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The lonely boy on christmas

Follow the Star
Image by Q, A, O, P, Space via Flickr

There once was a town it seemed that was always cold. Even when it was warm it still was always cold.

The people were mean. The people weren’t green. The people weren’t clean. They all forgot their dreams and no one could sleep.

Not even sheep, could make them dream. They all had forgot there meaning, and what it meant to be free.

They lived their lives as shadows. they lived in poor man castles, some were drunk and staggered, and some were slaves in shackles.

They all had forgotten, what once was their motto,— to live in darkness, you could never cast a shadow, and in the darkness, shadows never follow

and when the light shines from the sun in the seasons, whether frost bitten hands, or those wearing mittens, the sun always shined on the ones who asked for wisdom

and one did….the lonely boy on christmas.

and this lonely boy just wanted one thing for christmas, a dog or a kitten, wrapped up with a ribbon, a bright blue ribbon. If he had a dog… he could pet him with his mittens and watch him chase pigeons, and play fetch with the children.

But it never happened, no gifts were given to him on this christmas.

or any christmas.

there he sat in the town of castles and shadows, where the cold seemed to sting, everyone and everything.

and he began to reminisce of his families last christmas, the last time he was given a kiss on his head, and that warm feeling he had, and the last words ever said by his dad.

“you must live by yourself we can no longer take care of you”

and he said to them “I’m just a boy…what do you expect me to do?”

but his father and mother, they didn’t love one another, and they didn’t really mean to say what they said, so one day they both got into their cars and left.

But before they left they both kissed him both on the cheek, and said

“I’m sorry son, that we have to leave. Here are the keys this is your very own castle. And never leave, always stay in the shadows. We will always be with you, but we must leave and we hope for your forgiveness

and then they had left the lonely boy on Christmas.

PART 2

At the same time there was a young widow, who always sat by the window, with a sad glow, waiting for her husband to come home.

He and her, also lived in this world.

The world that was mentioned in part one, a world of no fun, where noone could smile in fear of being stung. because the cold was too cold, and some were too poor to buy coats, and besides,

the castles were hidden by shadows, and moats protected by ghosts, but still there was hope that her love would come home. and every day she wrote from a journal

that was given to her, from her husband who had disappeared, in the cold of the winter, and made her from married and happy, to a way too young widower.

Her name was Rosaline, and she was only eighteen when she found the man of her dreams. But one day he left to go to the store, and was never seen anymore, and

people had said that he had gone missing, in a cold storm, on a frosty Thanksgiving, and they stopped searching after a few weeks, cause noone could survive out in the

cold on those peaks. But Rosaline, never stopped looking out that window, till one day it started to snow. and then it suddenly stopped. And out from they sky an angel just dropped.

PART 3

Before I tell you how the angel dropped, and why the snow stopped, we must go back to the spot where the boy sat patiently, waiting for the day, when his family

would come back, and how all he wanted was that dog for christmas, a little dog wrapped up with a bright blue ribbon, but really

gifts were not on his wish list, just a little slice of happiness, outside of all that darkness

That day the boy decided to leave, he said to himself, I’m going to get a tree, so he left his castle and stepped out of the shadows, and headed to the forest outside of

the meadow, and began a long walk out of the darkness and into an even darker forest. He could have went left, and went towards the shore, he decided to go

north, and ventured forth towards, the forest and the trees, and the bright north star. He knew little of where he was, but it was better then where he would be, and

besides it was christmas he wanted a tree.

Before he left, he dressed in his warmest clothes, hat and coat, and scarf to protect his nose, and the only possession he had with him, was a backpack of provisions,

and a compass, and a map. And off he went, and took his first step out of the darkness, while in that same town a widower wept.

Part 4

Oh Where did he go, got lost in the snow? She sang to herself, while she sat by the window. Oh where did he go? And when will he return, to give me his love, I so desperately yearn”

She repeated these lines, like she was hypnotized, the saddest moment in a beautiful life. She was only 23 when he said good-bye and went out into that cold november winter, and was never seen alive, but keep faith good reader, a good love never dies.

“Oh where did he go? When will he return? why did you leave me, it wasnt your turn.” She sang this song in morning, she sang it still mourning, and that was when she realized, that her eyes were not blind, and in her heart she believed he was alive.

At the same time she sang by her window in that empty house, the compass was pointing telling the boy to go south.

But the map said that the meadow, was the way to go, but his heart told him to follow the star, and into the dark, he ventured in, to the deep forest, where

the trees lied there in.

PART 5

Well dear reader, you must be weary of me, so let me tell you how the boy found his tree.

And also a brand new family.

It starts where we left, with the boy’s lonely trek, and ends, well were not quite there yet. So the boy began his climb into that deep forest, while the angels sang to him,

this simple chorus. Follow the star son, follow the star, follow the star son, follow the star. Yes, the boy was lonely and scared, for sure, but in his head and heart he

was strong and secure. People would leave him, for that he was sure, but never his family, that scar was the worst, and his head began to hurt. But before the tears

started to fall, he took a step and all of a sudden he was not by himself, and while he was down and thinking about life, he somehow had wandered onto the thinnest of

ice.

PART 6

Oh reader, Oh me oh my, What did this boy do on that thinnest of ice. He walked oh so carefully, and he could hear the ice creak, and then there was the crack in the

ice he could see. He thought to himself, dang if I wasn’t thinking about all my problems, I might have seen this coming, and i could have done something, instead

of being stuck where I am, and then something happened.

The ice cracked, and splintered

and cracked, and splintered and cracked,

and the ice fell underneath his feet, and the boy was suddenly over his head, and while under the coldest degrees, he began to see,

Christmas wasn’t about getting presents or trees, it was about being happy. He was under the water gasping for air, trying desperately to be freed from a horrible death indeed ,

then at this moment

a hand reached out to him. And now enters the man, Jim, the widowers husband.

PART 7

Hey Kid!! Hey Kid!! Can you hear me? Grab my hand! Hey Kid!! Hey Kid!! Can you hear me, grab my arm, I’ll pull you in. That was the voice of the widowers husband.

All the boy could hear was a muffled sound, but saw the arm, and tried desperately to get out. He grabbed the strange hand that had come from above, and Jim pulled

him out with the strongest of tugs. Jim pulled the boy off of the ice, and made sure that he was alright. Can you hear me kid?! Can you hear me?!

But the boy was barely breathing, cold and shivering. What could be done to save the lonely boy on Christmas?

Jim started a fire with some sticks around him, and hoped and prayed that something could heal him. But as the fire grew stronger, soon the boy breathed in, and looked into the eyes of the man that saved him.

And at this very moment, the widower was sleeping, and dreaming what seemed to be the same thing. It was about a boy who fell on a dark night of the thinnest of ice,

and her husband was surely alive, and saved this boy’s life.

PART 8

The widower hadn’t left her house since her husband had disappeared, but she had to leave, her heart was telling her so, that she had to go, out of the darkness and

back into that snow. And as she left, she took a deep breath, and that was when she realized for the first time her self, that the darkness she lived in, this town, of castles

and shadows, there were more places to see, like the place in her dream. She visioned a stream, lit up by a bright star, and there she ventured out into the dark.

And there she sang.. My heart tells me to follow my dreams, and I will sing this song until he hears me. So she began singing. My heart tells me to follow my dreams,

andI will sing till my angel hears me. And just like that, the star lit up the whole place,

and though they were far apart, she could see his face. By the place in her dream, right by the stream, where she would find her Jim, and where she found…..me.

Part 8

Yes I was the lonely boy on Christmas, but now that I have grown, I am no longer alone. My family, Rosaline and my father Jim, we live outside of the darkness, where the shadows live. And though you must find your own way, and sometimes follow that dream, to get the biggest tree, or play station three, all you really want is a good family, and maybe a dog. Like the dog that I have. But really in the end a mom and a dad, and people that love you. And believing that the right star will shine above you.

So there you have it.

Merry Christmas to all of you, and all of yours.May love and light unlock all your doors.

Merry Christmas

from Jason

editor

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soul release- free prose. (bueno)

Things are looking good, in a world I misunderstood
things can get rough, but in the end it’s BUENO,
awesome on the mind, like a trained rhinoceros
my mind bends like a bullet in the city of Metropolis.
A rhyme, with rhinoceros, things are looking up
need to stand up on the stage and get the front page
or fall like the others who played this game we play.
I want to go to the moon, in this hell we live in
we gotta go soon. Because whats with the stars
we see in the night, a wounded mind can stand up, enlight
I never been the best at anything in my life
but a bastard son, like this one, should learn how to fight
Fight for the science of control that sticks to my soul
See I thought that a manic episode I had once, was from staying up too late, and not eating lunch. But the mania I had, it was something to watch, as I passed out for a minute and woke up in the dark. Thats a manic episode, when things think too fast, see I don’t think fast
I just write fast, I sleep nine hours a day, and I am getting fat, yeah I let the THC take over in my head, but it’s all good man, because I can still
hold my head, up high, and stare at the sky, and wonder those stars, why do they shine? And the sun, I know you’re a star, but why you have to be lighting up ants in my yard? And the ocean is being fucked up, and that shit pisses me off. I mean what is with offshore drilling, and oil spilling and people thinking they can kill a living organism, make the most beautiful thing in our life die. I mean that’s fucked up. Oil spills and toxic air, and people throwing their shit over here or there, or whatever, but man, ruining the ocean will be our undoing forever. It’s such a beautiful and mysterious peace, i bet the cure for cancer is in the reef. I know I am a scientist, just thinking with my mind, about why the fuck we got so far, and why we lost our minds. Not mine, I mean I’ve lost mine, but remember listening to Bad Fish, and smoking up in summertime, cook outs, and garage parties, listening to Sublime, watching the surf go, and wonder when I could ride. Man, I want to surf the waters, cause that shit would be kick ass. I want to skate again,cause I used to be really good at it. I want to rock these streets, till they know my name, senseone, sane and science back in the game.

I want these streets, peeps and people know I got something to say. I know I gotta let them know I’m doing shit my way. Cause my mind is a mountain, and I’m gonna climb it, and when I get up there to the heights of this headache. I am gonna write till I die or until a meteor or an earthquake, And even if some shit like that did exist, I will keep climbing cause intellect gains respect, and my mind, will never stop learning, I gotta keep the fire burning. Gotta go to sleep, but still got shit to prove, maybe sleep will show me something new ,and maybe one day I’ll share it with you.

soul release- free prose

another jagged thought by Jason

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Tales from an unemployed waiter part two.

The work week was as expected, gloomy, like the weather today. This past Thursday, I worked a double. On break, I came back to blog, about the first half of my shift. Now with the memory of Thursday night slipping away from me, I will try to remember the three, yes three tables i had that miserable night.

First off there was the woman, who barely spoke. And when she spoke, she spoke lightly, nervously. She had two sons with her who seemed to be adopted, and that’s ok. She seemed like she had been really screwed up by past relationships. Generally, I felt pretty bad for her. Her kids didn’t like me. Even when I brought out icecream for them, they seemed perturbed. The bad thing about this is that they took the survey home.

Now you may ask yourself , who cares about surveys? And the answer is surveys are actually very important in the corporate chain that i work for. They let the higher ups know how the restaurant is running, and who should be commended and who should be put under the radar. I usually have a few good surveys a month, but lately all bad ones. Regardless, after the dinner, I still gave them a survey, hoping to the powers that be, that they wouldn’ take it, but they did.

The next table, was a table that i had waited on before. I knew they were difficult, but genuinely nice people. I thought I could be myself around them, and tried to incorporate humor into thier experience. First I argued with her about her primavera. She said she wanted it in a red sauce, and not a cream sauce, no problem. So I said to her, you want it in a pomodoro sauce. She said no, I want it in a red sauce. I said to her that pomodoro is a red sauce, but nevertheless, the customer is always right, and I was wrong. I went up to the kitchen and said, she wants it in a red sauce. They said you mean pomodoro? And I said yes, but she wants it in a red sauce. and Pat my friend the chef, said yeah, a pomodoro sauce. And I said that’s what I was trying to tell her. He said that she was a douche difficult customer, and I said, “well yeah”… Anyway, her kid started ordering me around, he was a ginger. Don’t get it twisted, I said ginger, meaning a red head soulless southpark character. Anyway he ordered me around for a bit. It really takes a toll on your self-esteem, when a kid, who’s barely out of diapers starts telling you what to do. I wanted to scream “I’m a grown man, your really damaging my sense of self worth.” But all i said was “sure, another milk…more bread, no problem.

I don’t know if I looked visibly annoyed, but the situation fell apart from there. The father came in with a Rolly Fingers moustache. A villainesque, mad scientist Gene Wilder looking moustache. Normally moustaches are suspect to me. In this case I thought, wow quite a nice moustache. He might have seen me examining his moustache and once again was not amused. Anyway, I don’t really recall what happened, besides the fact that they took the survey. Another pissed off customer. Another day of me shooting off my mouth. I swear I should stop talking completely.

The last table was a really chilled out table, who liked me but left the survey behind. FML

Anyway,

Respect the server who knows how to write, and stop ordering me around kid….just another jagged thought by jason.

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The Picture

O.k, so this is a little bit weird. Me and my girlfriend (or my girlfriend and I whatever you prefer) were cleaning out our living room closet the other night, and found something that we must have tried to hide along time ago, because it is incredibly creepy. It is a picture of an old woman, staring you dead in the face.We don’t know where the picture came from, but I swear this picture is haunting me wherever I go. I have these reoccurring dreams about an old woman’s house that I live in, that is haunted. Its so commonplace in my dreams that I don’t even get scared by it anymore. Anyway, we have this picture, and I was telling the guy at the corner store about it, because I talk to him about random stuff. He wants to see the picture, but I swear just staring at this picture, will haunt your dreams for the rest of your life.

We make jokes about it, but really this thing is creepy. We even are having a yard sale to get of rid of it. So if your interested in a creeptastic picture from beyond the grave, come to our yard sale.

Anyway, so last night, I was dreaming in a deep sleep, when something shook me out of bed, and I grabbed the pillow from underneath my girlfriends head, pretty aggressively, and it was pretty hilarious. She woke up instantly having no longer support for her prettyhead, and asked me why the hell I did that, we laughed, and I don’t know why, but I think it has something to do with this picture.

I really don’t know, I guess it was a you had to be there moment, and seriously not as funny to you, as it was to us. So closing off, when you have a picture that you don’t know where it came from, and you pull the pillow out from under your girlfriends head, it is time to get rid of the picture

so in closing

When a picture makes you have an impromptu yard sale, just to get rid of the damn thing, well then its time to move, or call an exorcist, or give it to your brother as a wedding gift.

just another jagged thought by jason

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The New Fight

Well, my story of my life has changed from this day on. I am not going to suffer through my life, complaining why me, because I have mental illness. People need to learn to deal with it. And people with mental illness need to realize that its not their fault. Sounds cheesy like a Good Will Hunting reference, but this is true. I am sick and tired of having to always say to my mind, that today will be ok. You know what? F that, my mind is my mind is my mind. Those who suffer from mental illness, like Bi-polar, SchitzoEffective, OCD, or thought broadcasting syndrome. Yes that is a real thing. No one can no longer sit tied down by their illness. We should be proud of who we are. Each thought, each voice, all this confusion, is not our fault. We, the mentally ill, need to realize that this life is our only life, and their is no longer reason to be ashamed. Speak up. Me, I’m PschitzoEffective, I can say it, may not spell it right, but that’s what I am. So you know what, people who don’t have any problems mentally, may not understand that.
And I ‘ll tell you another thing, I am a waiter, you know how difficult it is to maintain normalcy, in a world that doesn’t understand? That’s why us people with mental illness, we need to learn to stand tall. Man the storm, ya know what I mean?

So from this day forward I will no longer be ashamed to be Skitzo Effective, I will no longer be ashamed and guard my thoughts. I am as sane as anyone else. And you know what people with mental illness helped build this society we live in, and what do we do now? Stigma, Self-loathing, patronization, we treat our mentally ill like second hand citizens. Mental Illness effects us all, tell me you don’t know someone who suffers. And if you don’t your a lier. It is time for a mental health alliance. Mental Health effects all, whatever color, sexual orientation, brown eyes, blue hair, doesn’t matter, us the people with mental illness, we need to form a foundation, stop the stigma, feel better for once, we need to band together. Be proud of what god gave us.

Stop Stigma Now!

just another jagged thought by jason

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tales from the unemployed waiter

So I wait right? its not an amazing life, but its what an English Major from Umass who got his BA does. Its cool, but here are some stories from my work. First off, made 17 dollars at lunch today. I work at a joint where i am required to encourage survey taking. So regardless of how I am doing, I have to encourage the patron to write a survey about me. Now I have enough problems dealing with people as it is. I try my best, but it seems like it’s not enough, but that’s o.k. Anyway a couple of suits came into work today, and they were not interested in me, or the specials, or even a friendly hello. I guess when you are working at a place like mine, people assume you are some kind of failure in life, and that’s why you work lunch shifts. At night, maybe people understand, but during the day, they have an idea about you. This idea is that you are a failure. But that’s o.k

Maybe they think your a stoner, or a loner, or a broke asshole. What they don’t know is I am a writer, and I can intellectually blog about each experience I have with them. So, that was today. I had three tables, one was a really nice guy with a retarded son, and I was genuinely nice to them. The suits, fake nice. The other table was a table that used a coupon, that took five dollars off the bill, and then with a whopping 24 dollar check, they decided to tip me 10 percent, FML. Anyway, I am writing now this in my apartment listening to MadVillain. Still unemployed, still waiting, and of course still blogging.

people at restaurants shouldn’t breast feed in public, or breastfeed all you want, just tip me atleast 15 percent…just another jagged thought by jason