Post by Joey on Apr 28, 2017 11:28:07 GMT -5
There is no more light.
The scene is Austin, TX. 6pm. Sundown. Inside Feldmans bar. Its a nice upscale bar that is in the swanky part of town, right across from the venue once referred to as the White Rabbit. The place closed down many years ago, sad too, it had a great history and some of the best concerts ever.
Inside the bar is quiet, Thursday night doesn’t get too many patrons. There are several sofas inside the establishment. One guessed they wanted to be casual and comfortable. There are several large TVs around, for the sports fanatics. There are plenty of pool and darts, which are deserted at this time.
Saint Jude is sitting alone, small table meant only for two. He is wearing blue jeans, a white shirt, black sketchers. His blonde hair unkempt and disheveled. He has a drink between his hands which rest on the table.
There is a thin layer of cigarette smoke almost throughout the entire bar. It feels and smells like home.
When I was a kid, my mom used to smoke half a pack of cigarettes a day. The house always smelled of cigarettes. She would smoke Raleigh, Benson and Hedges, and when uncles would visit she would smoke Winstons. She never drank much, her vice was cigarettes. My father drank a little but he also liked to smoke, he smoked cigars. The entire house always had a thin veil of smoke. There were ashtrays everywhere, in the bathrooms, in the kitchen and living room, in their bedroom and even outside in patio. Out back in the backyard. Every cars ashtrays were used. Its safe to say smoking was a religion in our household.
My mother didn’t really care when my brother and I started smoking at age 13. It was something that was accepted. By age 32 I stopped smoking. I just got tired of smelling like smoke. It got old. I wont lie and say I don’t miss it. But I miss a lot of things.
I don’t talk a lot about my parents, because their story isn’t one I care to share. That past is my own. Nuff said. But the past always has a nasty way of showing up when we least want it. And that’s exactly what happened last week when my brother came back. Redd. There isn’t room enough on this world for the both of us. But we will settle that soon enough.
Lives rise and fall, as do all of us.
There is someone who has returned back to SFT much like my brother. He goes by the name Lucas Balkan. It was only a matter of time till you and I faced off. You have been climbing the ladder slowly but surely, racking up win after win. I would imagine you feel sure of yourself. I would too if I were you. You have been impressive to say the least.
But all good things come to an end eventually. I have seen all the things you've said about yourself and your past. You seem to wear your heart on your sleeve. You aren’t afraid of your own past. Or the things you’ve had to do to survive. I applaud you. You survived no matter what, at a price few will ever understand. But I do, in my own ways.
I cant sit here and say that I have been through the horrible things you experienced, the war, the pain, the personal grief. Some will never relate and they are all the more lucky for that.
There are some people who have lived a sheltered life. And Lucas no matter how well you tell your stories, they will never comprehend. They will never be able to relate. And yet it hasn’t stopped you from telling us your past. I like that. Because while some may never go through anything even close. It is our duty to show others, to expose others to lives beyond their own. This I learned from Shadow himself. His life was anything but a fairy tale, far from it.
But even though some can never relate, its good if they at least try and understand that many live lives less ordinary, that many live lives that some of us will never get to or should ever have to.
This is where I come in. For so long my life revolved around making amends, trying to atone for my sins and for my life. And I don’t think God will ever forgive me for my life, I'm not sure I can even forgive myself. But the point is I have to try. And try I will.
What about you Lucas? Do you believe in God. Because trust me, he believes in you. And I wonder if in your darkest moments if you wondered if there was even a God. Because if he exists why would he let such horrible things happen to you, your family, your country, your life. It happens because without suffering there can be no compassion. Without darkness we would not search for the light.
I am that light.
I will shine the way for you and others, that’s if you let it.
Fade
The scene is Austin, TX. 6pm. Sundown. Inside Feldmans bar. Its a nice upscale bar that is in the swanky part of town, right across from the venue once referred to as the White Rabbit. The place closed down many years ago, sad too, it had a great history and some of the best concerts ever.
Inside the bar is quiet, Thursday night doesn’t get too many patrons. There are several sofas inside the establishment. One guessed they wanted to be casual and comfortable. There are several large TVs around, for the sports fanatics. There are plenty of pool and darts, which are deserted at this time.
Saint Jude is sitting alone, small table meant only for two. He is wearing blue jeans, a white shirt, black sketchers. His blonde hair unkempt and disheveled. He has a drink between his hands which rest on the table.
There is a thin layer of cigarette smoke almost throughout the entire bar. It feels and smells like home.
When I was a kid, my mom used to smoke half a pack of cigarettes a day. The house always smelled of cigarettes. She would smoke Raleigh, Benson and Hedges, and when uncles would visit she would smoke Winstons. She never drank much, her vice was cigarettes. My father drank a little but he also liked to smoke, he smoked cigars. The entire house always had a thin veil of smoke. There were ashtrays everywhere, in the bathrooms, in the kitchen and living room, in their bedroom and even outside in patio. Out back in the backyard. Every cars ashtrays were used. Its safe to say smoking was a religion in our household.
My mother didn’t really care when my brother and I started smoking at age 13. It was something that was accepted. By age 32 I stopped smoking. I just got tired of smelling like smoke. It got old. I wont lie and say I don’t miss it. But I miss a lot of things.
I don’t talk a lot about my parents, because their story isn’t one I care to share. That past is my own. Nuff said. But the past always has a nasty way of showing up when we least want it. And that’s exactly what happened last week when my brother came back. Redd. There isn’t room enough on this world for the both of us. But we will settle that soon enough.
Lives rise and fall, as do all of us.
There is someone who has returned back to SFT much like my brother. He goes by the name Lucas Balkan. It was only a matter of time till you and I faced off. You have been climbing the ladder slowly but surely, racking up win after win. I would imagine you feel sure of yourself. I would too if I were you. You have been impressive to say the least.
But all good things come to an end eventually. I have seen all the things you've said about yourself and your past. You seem to wear your heart on your sleeve. You aren’t afraid of your own past. Or the things you’ve had to do to survive. I applaud you. You survived no matter what, at a price few will ever understand. But I do, in my own ways.
I cant sit here and say that I have been through the horrible things you experienced, the war, the pain, the personal grief. Some will never relate and they are all the more lucky for that.
There are some people who have lived a sheltered life. And Lucas no matter how well you tell your stories, they will never comprehend. They will never be able to relate. And yet it hasn’t stopped you from telling us your past. I like that. Because while some may never go through anything even close. It is our duty to show others, to expose others to lives beyond their own. This I learned from Shadow himself. His life was anything but a fairy tale, far from it.
But even though some can never relate, its good if they at least try and understand that many live lives less ordinary, that many live lives that some of us will never get to or should ever have to.
This is where I come in. For so long my life revolved around making amends, trying to atone for my sins and for my life. And I don’t think God will ever forgive me for my life, I'm not sure I can even forgive myself. But the point is I have to try. And try I will.
What about you Lucas? Do you believe in God. Because trust me, he believes in you. And I wonder if in your darkest moments if you wondered if there was even a God. Because if he exists why would he let such horrible things happen to you, your family, your country, your life. It happens because without suffering there can be no compassion. Without darkness we would not search for the light.
I am that light.
I will shine the way for you and others, that’s if you let it.
Fade
