Giving this one a bump.

This my favorite of my “writing” so far. Looking forward to getting all of these essay type ramblings to book format. Starting that once my tablet arrives so i can get to work on it.

Day 93, 11:45pm:
If you listen closely enough to
patterns hidden within the rainfall,
you can hear even clearer than on
a calm night. You hear the
disturbances in the water. You can
almost pinpoint your focus to wash
away all other sounds into the
water and just keep your focus
clearly on what you’re listening for.
Giving a quick glance up, I’d say
it’s just before midnight judging
from the position of the moon.
Looking down to my hand I find a
brief, almost nostalgic comfort,
from the knife in my hand. Years
spent in the culinary field gave me
an apeciation of a good knife. The
weight and balance do all the work
for you when used properly.
I seem to be enjoying a brief
moment of pure calm and comfort,
feeling very comfortble in the
eliments around me at the time.
The calm is welcoming, yet almot
disapointing and troublesome in
In a last ditch effort to restore
some normality in my life I’m
almost forcing myself to feel worry,
concern, or fear.
Nothing. Just calm, clear headed,
and indiferent. Feel as a result
there’s almost some humanity lost,
but for the moment it’s probably
Suddenly I hear the break in the
rain pattern that I’ve been expeting.
I want to tell myself to calm down,
yet I still find myself frighteningly
calm and clear headed. It’s for the
best though, I don’t have time to
look for composure. From the
sound of it I have about 10 to15
I get myself into position, tighten
my grib on the knfe, and prepare
myself for what’s about to happen.
In about 10 seconds I’m going to
take a man’s life by lunging my
knife into his neck
10 minutes earlier:
Catching brief momemts of sleep
solely due to being awake for so
long now, but the pain still keeps
me up. Seemed I was just drifting
off when my backpack was ripped
from under my head and I was
somewhat dragged forward with it.
As I start to asses the situation I
realise that it’s an “associate” I
know, in a really bad drunken rage.
We scrap a little bit and I chase
him and the dog away.
About 30 seconds later, despite the
rain, I hear him coming again.
Things are heated. The screaming
and random swings keep coming
at me. All I want to do is try to rest
and heal up a bit. Not fighting a
drunken lunatic while I’m alreay
wounded and in excruciating pain.
Suddenly he throws his dog up
onto the ledge to attack me. Mind
you, this ia a very muscular boxer/pitbul mix, however looking into
the dog’s eyes, I could sense how
sincerely freaked out he was, and
that he wanted no part of this as
much as I did.
So I threw the dog out the back, got
a couple of key shots in, and
warned that this has to stop now.
3 Hours earlier:
Finlly it seems that the staff at
Uhaul is gone for the night, so I go
back into the truck yard and find
one with an open container, so I
can bed down and get out of the
rain that is going to start any
minute now.
I can barely climb into the truck
with this pain, and have the feeling
that sleeping on a metal floor with
3 broken ribs is going to present
quite the challenge tonight.
4 Hours earlier:
Looking up, I can tell the man
hovering over me means well by
trying to help me up, so I feel bad
for my tone as my responce was
“Don’t fucking touch me!!”
I was still busy proccessing the
damage, and making sure that
everything was still working, or at
least no much less than usual.
All I remember is other bike rider
coming out of nowhere, me
jamming the breaks, flying over the
handlebars and smashin into the
“Thank you, I just need a moment”
“Ok buddy, just trying to help” and
then he goes about hi day
“Two hours and I already hate this
damn bike” I murmer to myself.
2 Hours ealier:
Well I just spent my last $10 on an
awful new bike, but not left with
much choice at moment. This is all
I’m going to get with the money I
have. Have some cash coming in a
few days for producing clean urine
for a friend, but with my bike gone,
and appointments to make I need
this shitty bike for transportation.
“Fuck it, better than nothing. I’ll
take it”
6 Hours earlier:
I’m being tested here. That can be
the only explanation.
Having to help this idiot get himself
together, dressed, and get to his
court date first thing this morning.
Otherwise there will be a warrent
for his arest.
Considering that he has just
returned from 5 days missing,
crawling through the sewers, in an
Aderal psychosis.
I don’t have patience for this, but I
know he would do this for me.
The fact that he left 5 days ago on
my bike, and has returned with no
idea whatever happened to it, does
not help soothe my agrevation.
First thing first. He aint going to
help me get a new bike if he’s in
“Well, how much worse could this
day get”?

*note: after original wave of
feedback it’s clear that i have to
say, fortunately for both of us, The
drunk simply never returned the 3rd time,
so i never actually had to kill him.
Thank you all for your lack of
ability to just go with a flow of
story telling.
Couldn’t explain that in story while
maintaining structural and creative
Simply part of a new series of
accounts from my 195 on street
after i was kicked out of the

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