What the fuck?, she asked as she stepped into my head. I never intended to answer her. I had no motivation, no pursuit in life except to live in the moment, to feel each second ticking off as I took my next breath. Slowly my lungs filled and for just an instant the world stopped spinning, gravity was all but lost and I was thrown through time and space, slamming into the concrete wall of reality. To think that I have been sober in my most thought provoking moments. How can my collective consciousness depend on my intellect awakening the monster that I mostly choose not to acknowledge exists? We are each the product of our own circus of experiences, even those we choose not to remember. What the fuck? I asked, returning the vulgarity as if a favor. Why the fuck do you think its okay for you to invade my thoughts? For you to stomp your feet and hold my memories hostage within a tattered scrapbook of bullshit laden black and white photographs. Shall I keep a civil tongue about me while you pull out your well-honed dagger and ask me to turn around to give you my back? Its time for a drink, I muttered. Something that will give me the courage I need to scratch out her eyes. Perhaps a double served up neat. The battle will ensue shortly. The night is too fleeting and for all my bravado, I am afraid. ~MCM ©2014