It is not an accident. It is not even weird right now that the conversation going on can not be heard at all even though there is a large crowd around you. You think that their are others that are watching your mouth move to the words streaming across your mind. You are wrong, no one detects anything except one.? You look across the vibrating wave of bodies at the outskirt of the dance floor to a set of eyes that are yours to match. A gaze that understands that music builds the self up and tears it down and the hypnotic nature of its core vibrates so that a union of sorts is made. No words necessary. Time is ignored as the beats roll and body pulses, the mind races and elation is experienced.

I will breathe. I will exhale.I will hum.I go by name of The Eug.

He was born Eugene Lasaro. He no more exists then you and I do. If you think about what makes you a person, now challenge that concept and more often than not and you will lose and yet people play it everyday. The Eug, half right in the head and as emotional on the left feels all things have being, no differentiators between a rock and Fluffy the hairless cat (no one owns one in this just a picture that needed a face). He was raised by his two twin brothers who couldn’t care less about why he gets called The Eug.

Worth a Fin Johnny and Mangus – Johnny never knew anything other then how to know nothing about everything. I mean nothing he didn’t know ever made him less then a fin – hence how he got dished the trophy. As he grew up with little to say but everything to gain he made a killing in the art of knowing – a thing Magnus should have picked up on along the way. Mangus was gifted in one way, the art of persuasion. At the tip of his finger he painted elaborate collages of lies and half truths till a learned person would question what he knew to be right in the beginning.

I could sit along the edge of the curb and watch life. I could feel the movement of the days potential give way to the depths of the afternoon and I try to make my imprint as I shave for the morning to come.

Walking out of my bathroom I place the song of the day at the beginning and I know that it will settle the score – It is Aphrodite – Calcutta

My feet are unaware that the floor should be an advisary in smooth movement but this feeling can be unmatched or beaten. That is how i leave this house today. I decide.

Lock door. Turn key look up.? Worth a Fin and Magnus hit me into the wall like a sally as I mutter some half-assed whine to show my loss of air. They shite kick me into 2:00pm just as the birds start chirping. This is the love only a brudder can understand, the sick, sad and methodical enjoyment of takin’ a piss. At causing displeasure at the cost of another – Not right definitely not sane like the ones without great clasped jackets just round enough on the edges to have you guessing if ever there will be a morning without the shite kicked out of you – that is what else every morning has to offer. Oh how i dream for change and at the same time welcome the smallest differences in the the everyday that most don’t pick up.

I will watch you watch me. I will hear it in your thoughts when it is not possible for me to know otherwise. I will question everything you say so that not one thing can be assumed to be what it appears to be. I have gained that perception. I have realized that quality many artists gravitate to. I am only as I can be right now with everything falling into place as it may or as i deem it possible.

You know Worth a Fin, could you just tap over here you missed a spot as i point to my ribs – acknowledging the tongue and cheekness of the comment he winds up and drops his right boot angled perfect to the bone as i name the brusie as it will appear later and we will become friends.

Many aspects of my accounting of this story takes plase as it happens and more than often the narration runs parallel to an event of no relation – scattered it is and busted it seems.

As i pick myself up of the front walk and spit out the copper reality that is my daily morning i hum the song of the hopeful. I carry the step of the aspiring to find and make what it is their mold to achieve.

A block away I stumble off the sidewalk and pass out only to be found by an elderly woman walking her scottie. This is what has become of me or is this what you meant for me to experience within my own mind so that the physical mirroring of the same sufferning is not experienced

The elderly lady says I was not making sense when she found me.