Not all of us can be a positive speaking person...

 I am a person who can speak the words of truth to those that need it and I can say the positive, uplifting things when the situation requires it. But, if you ask me to some motivational speaker. It's not my way. If I was, it will be a motivational speak that will incite a riot, a revolution or even worse a lazy act of nothing. But, I see so many folks on so many social networks, even those that I know as friends and acquaintances that like to post some of those words of positive living or upliftment. And so many just post words of thank you, likes, retweets, etc. I usually overlook most of it because I normally find most of it not laughable, but empty. Me honestly, I am not that type of person. I don't know those who do, but I will be honest and keep it 100 with you when I say - it's not for everyone. I never been that way. I'm a realist. I don't think a few words of positivity and whatnot is going to be the sprinkles of sunshine of the shitty-gray skies that can be around in life. Call it the cynical part of me. And I will gladly accept it with a smile. But, I just know that a positive word, some quote of inspiration, or a bible verse is going to make it better. (sorry friends it just not that simple) or it would be allot less stress there with many and the hurricane stress in my own life.

I won't speak or respond with those words others post. I know they mean well and I can understand and appreciate it. Yet. I do laugh at most of it and think to myself...yeah really un huh. Ok. Rainy days are just interludes of the shiny days ahead...blah blah blah. Pardon me as I grab my raincoat and walk into the deluge. These storms are not simple ones - and not something a word or two can easily fix.

I guess in the end, it's just who I am. A cynical who don't see the positive or negative. But the truth. Truth has no moral compass. it is what it is and right now, things are pretty messed up. I can say that with a few more, colorful words.  But, I'm refraining from using it for my friends who have an allergy to profanity.

Any words of upliftment??

SAW

It's Story Time...folks!

this is just something I been working on for a while and finally got around to writing it. It just a psycho drama that has plots turns and twists...like any good reality show (that's been obviously scripted) I will attempt to get each chapter in this done and make it like a webnovel or something. Who knows. Maybe it can be a best seller in the making. Move over 50 Shades of Grey...I'm going for a 1,000,000 Shades of Green. KA-CHING!

It don't have a title yet...will do that part last once it's done. So those who like free reading...here you go. By the way pardon the typos and stuff...as one of my creative writing teachers in college once said..the first draft is always bullshit...now...read on...

The news report ran the caption across the screen of Jarret Bragman’s television.

“Kenard O’Conner, almost known as The Summerdale Strangler has been executed by lethal injection. He was pronounced dead at 12:04 AM this morning in front of three dozen witnesses; those mostly the relatives of the victims he has murdered in the past decade. O’Conner was convicted and sentenced to death for the nine murders he committed twenty-six months ago in the Applewood Slayings that rocked this state to its core. After a multi-state manhunt, O’Conner walked into the FBI headquarters in Boston to turn himself in with…”

Bragman, hit the mute button on the television and sighed. He knew the rest; in fact he knew almost all of this. Special Agent Jarret Bragman was one of the leading investigators in to the Summerdale Strangler case. Spending nearly five years of his life, tracking down this monster, only to have him elude capture and to give himself up. Jarret felt cheated in not being the one to catch him. He wanted nothing more than to be the one to lead him in handcuffs to the execution chamber. Yet, he couldn’t do it and it ate at his soul. This was his first big case since graduating from the FBI Academy and he wanted to prove himself. He guessed that it shouldn’t matter. His investigation did help bring him down, but not much. He confessed to the dealings, along with others. And the trial – if one could even call it such – was nothing but a farce. He pled guilty to everything and not even flinched when the state attorney asked and was given the death penalty. He only smiled, bowed to the court and hummed a bit of show tunes as he was escorted out of the court room. The stint on death-row was a short one, less than one year. Being under twenty-four hour guard, to ensure he did not cheat the state out of its due justice. The week leading to the execution was chaotic in the slightest. Many wanted to partake in the witnessing of the execution. A lottery was drawn up and many asked could it be televised for other victims who could not attend. Just to have piece of mind. The judge refused outright.

He was glad the monster was dead. The case was closed and now it is time for him to be assigned to something new. Turning the power off on the televison, Jarret laid down and quickly drifted off to sleep.

“Agent Bragman,” the voice said. Bragman looked to see a woman in a FedEx uniform standing before her, carrying an envelope. “I have a letter for you, Sir.” Jarret signed for the letter and she left, leaving him looking at who sent this. He was not expecting anything. Opening a drawer to his left, he put on some rubber gloves and a breathing mask. Once he was felt safe, he looked at the address. It was from a mailing service out of Atlanta. He opened it and saw there was another envelope inside it. He also could feel something heavy inside it. He opened the other envelope to see a key fall onto the desk. He set the key aside and read the letter accompanied it.

Hello Agent Bragman,

Or should I just call you Jarret Dylan. Agent Bragman is just so formal. And I for one really don’t see that we should be so formal with each other. Granted, you been after me for so long. I think we can pass such things and be quite personal…”

O’Conner. He thought. This has to be from him, sent with instructions that it was to be delivered to him after his death. He continued on reading.

…and be as frank and comfortable as possible. I have to say, that I was hoping that you could had caught me over the years. I figured since our first meeting in that bar in Landover, that you could figured out that I already killed my latest victim. The one you found headless in her bathtub. I figured you could have detected the smell of the blood.

Well anyway, it does not matter. I wanted to write you because; I have to say that over the years of playing the cat-and-mouse with you and your comrades in the FBI and state law-enforcement, You were the closest to knowing and understanding my methods and my mind. Oh yes, I known so much about you in so many ways. I had many chances to eliminate you. But, I respected you for your sense of duty, sense of honor and the determination that few had shown. And your respect towards your fellow man was admirable. You and I are allot alike, Jarret. Oh yes, it’s true. Soon, you will find out how much alike we are. Enclosed are a few things that I left to you. I know that many of my estate items is caught up in lawsuits with my “friends” and I really wanted you to have this before the vultures pecked over my other possessions. They are the true criminals. Lawyers. I should have killed more of them. Call it a public service. Anyway, this contains a key to a safe deposit box and I left instructions into how you can obtain what is stored there. Rest assured, you would not want to just turn it in for some cold-case. Seriously, why bother? I am already dead. And why waste time with further investigations. I will not say anymore. I await you once you obtain my material. I believe it will be worth the trip and effort.

Till then, I remain.

Kenard O’Connor.

P.S. I know that the agency has a standard practice of wearing gloves and masks when handling unknown correspondence. Let me assure you, I did not put any anthrax or richen in this material. Why do that? So you can remove the mask and gloves. Ta Ta.

Jarret set the letter down and removed the gloves and mask. O’Connor was right. Why go through all this effort, just in some act of spite from beyond the grave. He looked at the key. It had a number etched into it: 392. He looked at the other paper. It was an official letterhead from Chesapeake Bank. It was instruction in how to obtain a safety deposit box. Jarret saw the address and sighed. Of course, it was a two hour drive to Virginia Beach and the bank would be closed by the time he arrived there. So he decided to set out the next day. He looked at the key. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. But what secrets did it contain? What evil could it hide? It was in a bank vault. It couldn’t be much. Or could it?

Around noon the next day, Jarret arrived at the Chesapeake Bank. Parking his agency issued Ford Focus, got out of the car, grabbed the binder with the letter and checked for the key. He started to walk toward the entrance, with a woman heading towards the same way, pushing a stroller. The automatic door opened and he allowed the lady to enter first. She thanked him and pushed past.

The bank looked like more an office building than a bank - rows of cubicles, with people discussing their business and to the right were tellers processing transactions. He walked toward an empty cubicle. There was a man sitting there, dressed in a maroon colored suit with white tie.

“May I help you?

Jarret replied in saying, “Yes, where are the safety deposit boxes?”

The man pointed his finger in the direction to the far left. “You go through that corridor and you will find a lady who can assist you with that.”

Jarret thanked him and walked towards the direction indicated. He walked pasted the two guards who were standing on either side of the corridor. The nodded as he past and there was an older aged woman in a light blue pants suit sitting at a mahogany desk. He walked to her and she looked up, smiling pleasantly.

“Good morning, how may I help you?”

Jarret took the set and withdrew his folder, producing the key to it. “I am here to open up box 392 please.”

The lady keyed the number on her computer terminal.

“May I see your identification please,” she asked?

He withdrew his wallet with his driver’s license and handed it to her. She scanned it and entered his name into the system. “Everything is in order, Mr. Bragman. I will escort you to the vaults now.”

Standing up to follow her, Jarret walked to the secured area. The lady entered a keycode on the pad opened the door. “This way please.”

Inside the vault, there were countless drawers, shelves and safes. Turing to a corner, he can see rows numbered 300-500. After a few moments of walking she stopped at #392.

“Here we are. 392,” she started to say. “This particular box only has one key, which you possess. I’ll give you some privacy while you access its contents. Just press this button on the wall whenever you are ready. I will collect you.”

“Thank you,” Jarret said as she turned to leave. He looked at the box, and began to wonder what was in it. The box was not very big, yet to him, it felt like something as big as the building. This man, this killer, has done so many things. Could it be a confessional or a list of all his victims? Items he taken from those he killed over the years? Steeling himself, he took the key and inserted it into the lock.

Here goes he said to himself as he turned the key. The lock clicked and he pulled the drawer forward. The drawer was almost empty except for huge, black book and silver chain with another key attached to it. Attached to the key was a small note. He took the note and opened it.

Hello Jarret

I knew you would come. Even from beyond the grave. I knew you would. Well this is just a sample of what is to come. This key is a storage unit that has many wonderful things, but I won’t tell you all of that just yet. Good things come to those who are patient and wait. However, I have given you something to keep you busy. This book is one of my personal journals. A diary of my life so to speak. There are plenty more of these you will find once you reach my unit. And I have left clues in this very book to locate it. But in the meantime, enjoy it as you get to do something that very few have ever had the glace in doing. Knowing me…for me.

K

Jarret looked at the book; black, worn with time and usage. He thumbed to the first page of the book. It only had 4 words.

Deus amat. hominem occidit

He knew this was Latin but would have to wait to return to the agency to translate it. He knew that this should be turned into authorities for analysis. However, he felt cheated in not catching this man and if he could learn how and why he escaped capture, it could help in any future cases where he would not fail. Taking the book and chain, he closed the drawer and walked to the panel where the button was to call for the lady. He felt the weight of these items dragging him down, almost making it difficult for him to walk or even breathe. Calming himself, he pressed the button. It would be a few minutes before she arrived. And then he would read this journal, find this storage unit and find some closure to what has tormented him for so long. But, for now, he only had this book. What would be in it? He walked towards the woman as she approached.

“You can have the key back ma’am. There will be no need for it,” Jarret said as he gave the box key to her. “You can close out the account.”

Minutes later, he was in his car, hearing the baseball broadcast, but not paying attention. He thumbed through the pages of the journal. Looking at the numerous entries and seeing pictures, sketches and clippings. Suddenly, his cell phone rang. He looked at the Caller ID, it was the office. He answered the phone.

“Bragman  here.”

“I will be there in an hour,” he said as he hung up the phone and started the car. For now the book would have to wait, as he placed it on the seat next to him. He had more current matters. He drove out of the parking lot trying to force himself to think of the task at hand. But, he couldn’t. He will have time for the book of The Summerdale Strangler. But, it will come later. He had plenty of time for it.

**

Wearing false smiles...

I can only imagine just how most of you are trying to understand that title. Don't worry, it will all be explained in its due course. It was just a title that sums up what this entry is about. The truth is I was very reluctant to write this - yet, since I know many would never digest its true content - why the hell not.

Question before the board: Why do we all wear so many false smiles for others? The reason being for this is why when others have such good fortunes going for them and wish to share it with those in their circle, why do so many only throw on a forced smile of joy - especially when in their own world, their own lives, they have nothing to smile about? I am not saying those friends that are simply haters in disguise. Nothing such a sinister sort. However - just do a pretend gesture of insincere celebratory joy for others blessings, good luck, whatever. Is it truly hard for one to be happy for others when deep down in their own little world there is little or nothing to be happy about in themselves.I guess it is easier to wear a false smile and do the required amount of gestures and bow out.

I know before anyone else throws out the classical and every present counter-point, because I know many have it already uttered in their minds. Let me give a per-emptive response right now to your question. No, it does not matter if the role was reversed. If one wears a false smile and I knew would it bother me. Not at all.

I don't think it's wrong wearing a false smile for others. If only to shield our own pain in our own lives. I know that it is said to be happy for others blessings is to be blessed yourself. With all due respect to those who believe that - and no offense to those who believe it. That is utter and pure NONSENSE!!!! I don't believe that for any second or any minute.

I pose an example to you. If you have someone gets their dream job and know you been out trying to get on board with something. Sure it's good to know you can get a hook-up and your foot in the door. But, do not think for a second that it will not be in their heart of hearts that now I am owed my own opportunity by someone else and not my own effort. How is that for one's own self-worth? I know we all need help in the world, in our own ways we need a hand to extend to others. But, isn't it not as rewarding to know you did it on your own too. Is it not said those are helped best are those who help themselves? A bit paradoxical don't you think?

Do we wear these false smiles because we do not truly care? Of course not. It's not wrong to try to express our happiness in those close to us. Yet, how hard is it when we don't have it in ourselves? Would I expect others to do the same if the role is reversed? Well, thing is I am already expecting some to. Would it bother me? Not in the slightest. Because, I would know and understand.

So today, I wear another false smile. Not for I do not care for ones happiness. But to mask our own pains. So please forgive those that have it and never speak of it. It's just we not in any good place for other's joys when we have none in ourselves.

SAW

I'm famous - so my words mean more...

I kind of wonder anyone can answer this ponder. If two people speak and say the same thing, one a normal person and the other a celebrity. Both speak the same words of positivity and uplifting. Yet one was all but ignored because it came from someone who lives an ordinary life without the name behind it. The other some famous person that has a large amount of money, social status and maybe a sense of license to grace humanity with a sense of public consciousness. Who would one believe? I ask this for the simple reason that I consider how so many people can follow the shepherd of the famous - as if his words will lead the flock of the non-elite to Nirvana.

It makes me laugh how so many of those famous people just go out and do those commercials for one saying oh do this, give that, help this and blah blah blah. Now I am all for those that do have a genuine cause, or a worthwhile charity. I am all for that. But I do consider myself thinking of this. How many these folks actually cough up the money they ask many of the viewers and citizens. I am like hell you make a few million dollars a year, you cough up most the cash for whatever. Think you can use the tax write-off anyway right? Think my poor $.52 a day going to help. I remember someone say oh yeah 52 cents (the price for a cup of coffee can help feed some starving guy in Africa.) I'm thinknig like where the hell is that place right now. I wanna eat for fiddy-two cents a day. And I know many more who do too. Today, you can't even get bubble gum that cheap. Oh how I miss those days.

And the other I have to get a good chuckle at is all those who just post all these videos and posts of all these positive, uplifting, motivational words of good merit, cheer and hoopla, that I know about 100 folks who don't have the platinum charge card from American Express and the common gentry laps it up like snozzeberry icecream from wonka's factory. I guess it is true the messenger is more important the message one gives. Yet, I wonder, do many of these people believe what they even say or is it just a ploy - or a case of absolute bullshittery (yes that is a word). And I do ask, if you have a friend who can say the same thing, may not in so many words, or so many others who follow them like a shadow. But, you sometimes need to ask - where is the credibility of those paid endorsers of the common welfare? Ever wonder they just say most of this out of pure sincerity, or are they just entrapping the mind with scented words that can cause you to fall for anything with no substance? Now, I know many others would say the same thing. There is always an agenda for everyone - but do you fall for the one who captures the masses with the honeyed words of falsity, or the ordinary Joe Schmo?

Who knows, maybe writing this entry, or even keeping this blog is the thing that so many others (well those who have bank statements that look like my phone number). I don't know. Difference is that I just bring a harsh reality of enlightenment. I don't consider myself to be anything motivating - but maybe in twisted way, I could be. Who knows. Yet, I ain't famous...except in my own head. I'm pretty popular there.

SAW

Love is in the air...

so why does it smell like sulphur and rancid milk?

I am not one to be a bitter Betty but, it just something that I been pondering allot as of late. Has this become a summer of love? With new romances, June/July weddings and the like, you kind of have to ask yourself is there something in the air that is becoming all amore - amore (that's international talk - I tend be like that at times) It kind of laugh at all the many that just run towards the summer fling. All full of intense fervor, like a fireball in the sky, or a comet, comes brightly - shines on and then fades away. While some may linger around ( some like a bad canker or a stubborn bill collector ) and have a long term relationship. While others will fade away like the seasons. With memories, potential lawsuits or even a positive test for a baby or a notice of a court order to pay child support. WHO knows how those seasonal escapades can end  or evolve.

I guess with all the nonsense and trouble in the world, maybe a bit of love or something is necessary, if for anything but peace of mind. Not that a good bottle of Don Julio and a plate of wings can't provide that same need. Or maybe that is me. Who knows?

I just find it funny how many people just post all kinds of love related nonsense and the amazing inspirational, romantic pictures and quotes and all that crap you find when one is in that state of mind.

Hear something like..ooh love with the right person makes all troubles seem nothing - a blah blah blah. I can come up with about 30 cynical and quirky comebacks and believe me, I have. Yet, I hate to be a killjoy to them. No matter how tempted I want to, how much it would give me a bit of sadistic pleasure to be the storm on the sunny day of the world. I'm a villain damnit...you expect lollipops and dandilions here? HELL NO!

I think I will compose up a list of evil retorts for those love quotes and stuff and give it a bit of harsh logic. May as well. For there must be balance and why not give the darkside of all that equal time. It's the least I cna do right?

So if love is in the air...please make sure you are not passing a set of burning tires...

Looking Back....Looking Forward

I took me a while to really write this entry. Not because of the subject matter that I am discussing, but to really speak what I wanted to say to really give this justice. I know this time of year is a big "rite of passage" for so many people in terms of their lives beginning. Mostly, those who completed the big hurdle in their lives. Me graduating high school so many years ago - I can only count the years for I am getting old; I thought that is was just the biggest accomplishment in my life. Something that I worked hard to do and to share it with my family and my friends, many of them that walked the same journey with me from day 1. I can't say that I begun with them. Being transplanted from Oakland to Mississippi, I will admit was kind of a big change. Yet, in retrospect, I can hardly remember the times of Kindergarten and 1st Grade. Not clearly. Yet, 2nd grade unto that May night in 1994, I can remember those times fondly. The classes (some I kind of slept through YAWN), hamburger Friday, and the recces time. Lockers (which I rarely used), to homeroom (which to this very day, I still try to find out the purpose for that. - I wonder has anyone in the history of education ever failed homeroom.) Study-Hall, which I still think, does anyone every study there? I know I never did.

Then I think of my days back high school - 4 years that really say help define me as the person I am today. Being a realist, learning history (helping pass a class in the process), discussing conspiracy theories in Mr. Wade's class, to debating the topics of the day - only because if just play the devil's advocate. But the most fondest thing about it are the people, those that I call my friends. In a sense, it was a family, because in many aspects, we spent more time together than our actual family. (well it would seem the case.)

But, like many things, time passes, people lose touch, and we all grow up on the paths that we all walk. Some got married, have children on their own, followed their dreams, accomplished whatever they sought out to do. One thing that I can say about Facebook, is that it did reconnect many of us that it would be difficult to find - even those that lived in the same neighborhood. :P Yet, looking at so many now accomplish much, it does my heart proud to see so many do so much. (so may not achieved what they thought they would back in high school, yet you may done more than you expect and tomorrow is a day of ambition and never too late to do it.

Now looking back, I smile. Looking forward I smile at the possibility of what is ahead. A circle that widens with new experiences, new people that come in as well. But, where it starts are those that were there from the beginning. And me personally, before I was a cynic, before I was a villain, before I was just an overall ass, I was Marco. It is said  you don't know where you are going until you know where you come from. I know I came from Morton, Mississippi. I carry that place in my heart wherever I go. Sadly there is no K's Korner in Dallas and I can't get that teleport platform working or I be there stocking up on burgers.

Now, I look at the raining night in May, we all left the nest, planted new roots, raising a new generation and looking ahead to the future. I don't know where it may take me, but I know, as I knew then it will be something grand. Some those that have now reached this milestone. Know the future is bright and yours to take. Your story is to be written, as ours were. Make it a grand one. Look forward and start your journey.

With one step.

SAW 

Step right up...place your bets...

I know I'm going to catch all kinds of hell for this. Yet, then again, when I ever not got flak for many things I speak, ponder and heaven help anyone who ever takes a stroll in my mind. You would lose your damn sanity - and I would be on trial. But, I digress. The question I ponder, my people is it wrong for me to place personal odds and bets on relationships and stuff? I know that Vegas has put up odds on how long relationships last for several celebrities and I usually consider if I was a betting man and if there was a set of odds on how long folks relationships can or would last. I look at how much logic and reason can pull out the odds and we place it on such a board...

but in many cases, I know that it would a bit higher..

Now don't want to sound like a total ass-hat and cold to such a change in one's romantic status.Yet, I'm just a villain, what else would one such as I do. I can do all the best luck and wishes and all that. BUT, sometimes I have to consider. If there was bets and odds places and I can make a wager, I would. Hell I heard they had odds on how long Kim Kardashian's marriage would last and I would think there be a few that would be raking in the cash. And lord  knows, there folks I know that I can step up a betting table and be like I want to put this on this being less than 6 months at 3 to 1 and I be like...

KA-CHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I would be a rich villain with a few less friends but then again, with this, I could rent new friends. Call me a hater if you want, I call it being opportunistic. However, if I'm wrong, I would stand up and admit I'm wrong.

But, I doubt that I'm wrong. Alas...but that's how I roll cause I'm a villain....don't believe me...see this

we all going to place bets on that new relationship. We are the odds now...20 to 1....who got $20??

SAW