The Midnight train

Prelude

Murmured voices echoed down the platform. Rushed words in excited tones littered the pavement.

It was close to 8 am and an over-toned voice announced the departure would be several minutes behind schedule. An odd thing to consider, considering the overhead clock had malfunctioned weeks ago.

The cockatoos paid the announcement no heed. One, in particular, was hanging upside down almost mocking the robotic-like voice used to calm the more anxious commuters. After all, it was easier to relax when you relied on the more obvious signs of nature.

The trees were particularly relaxed today, showing no evidence of their great wisdom to those who apathetically took them for granted.

“CREEWARRK’ screeched an unseen crow, eyeing off a packaged pie, discarded well before its worth was consumed.

Risu knew exactly why that moment was of particular importance. A young girl rushed beyond the safety lines while her guardian stared blankly at his black screen.

Risu whistled to the tune of the Rossella, a calmingly soft tone that easily shared his message to his airborne friends.

Without thinking the little girl froze in disbelief as the cockatoos now also joined in his song.

She looked up and shared the bird’s vision like a cataclysmic dream.

The train was approaching and had she continued down her reckless path, the day’s outcome may have been that of dismay.

He found a great sense of gratitude in the bird’s harmonies. Their dream was easy to share, beauty and prosperity for all.

It was what accelerated his grandiose illusions. The once upside down avery flapped its wings and took off as the wires were now a thunderous manifestation.

The train was approaching.

“But Mike, we can’t possibly sell any lower,” chimed the girl’s parent.

Seemingly unaware of the existence of life singing and dancing that protected his young kin.

Her purple backpack was decorated with pink fairy-like patterns.

An omen of hope and protection seemed just for this little free spirit.

It made it quite easy for the flightful saviours to assume she didn’t know about the danger of this world’s frightful shadows.

Her hair was braided (poorly) and her shoes were slightly dampened in what appeared to be her morning journey’s aftermath.

Risu let out a large belch and with it, drew many looks of disgust and dismay. But he didn’t care for such politics of decorum.

The young lady, now properly behind the yellow lines let out a joyful giggle.

“Daddy! Dad! Did you hear that?” … No response except a pacifying gesture so as to get back to his important phone call.

The little girl stared at Risu, but he feigned disinterest. Best not to intercept a potentially valuable lesson for the father to appreciate at least some of the wonder left in their relationship.

Risu now took his attention to a spider nurturing its prey, in the final stages of its delicate ambush.

The little fairy girl finally stopped eyeballing him and was now pretending to be a part of her father’s coat pockets. The magic was indeed still alive and well for the pair.

His preoccupation had clearly only momentarily got the better of him.

The spider made a quick gesture and with it, trapped itself some breakfast.

Risu found it difficult to be around so many civilians in this way. All so rushed, unsuspecting, and disenchanted with the world around them.

His job was simply to observe for now until he was sure they were ready for the magic to be born anew.

It was an odd precarity how children, despite their fearless attitudes and sense of wonder, found solace in being disenchanted like their parents.

You see, Risu was more than a little odd. He was a child of the sun, a group of nomads, dedicated to the ways of old.

Or at least, that’s what he chooses to believe.

To many, he was an unemployed, homeless, recluse, known by many in this area, by native slang as a ‘no hoper’.

But Risu didn’t know any better, his experience with wonder and ancient knowledge protected those around him. And he had spent half a lifetime, unlearning the ways of ‘grown ups’.

And the more he practised the greater his potential and indeed his power grew.

Druidic messages were blinding his vision of ‘normality’ and ‘stability’ when it came to life in the daily grind.

He loved discovering and sharing his vision with the world, even though they may never be ready to employ his strategies.

One too many visits to psych wards taught him this lesson on a very personal level. He figured he was either born in the wrong era, indulged in human life one too many times, or something else was in store for him that he was unsighted to. He hoped for the latter.

Nevertheless, he was determined to find his people. The ones he heard about through timeless art, poetry, music, and natural phenomena. He knew deep down his path was righteous, he just wanted to make sure he would make the right decisions when the right timing and placements were beheld to him.

He was commonly dressed in cheap tattered clothing, stained with adventure and overuse. This helped detract or distract him when fame and fortune came helplessly knocking at the door.

The train was now filling up, legions filing in one by one. And being that it was one of the first stops on the line, people found personal spaces easy to obtain.

He contemplated his day’s goals to find one free spirit to love a singular moment with, And being that the lovely fairy child had already stolen his heart, he decided to see where this particular train would guide him.

What he really needed was a friend. Someone to share his passions with, but he set very strict rules when it came to children. Although he had none of his own, he knew it was only right to let their true guardians guide their way.

He looked on as the little girl was now investigating a displaced man and thanked the girl silently for the invitation.

Risu’s backpack was filled with all sorts of oddities from his former life, and by the look on the apparently homeless man’s face, he too could probably do with some enlivening.

He looked into his wallet and found a $10 note, illustrated with graffiti of some form of mushroom erupting from the gentleman’s head.

He sat down next to the man and farted abruptly, slipping the note into the man’s pocket.

It was easy to be generous when wealth was so prominent in this country. He considered for a time, an untold conversation with the man when an announcement broke his concentration.

Attention passengers, the 7:58 to Flinders street will now be delayed due to line works.

``How exciting” he thought to himself.

A mindset that didn’t show much synchronicity amongst the disturbed passengers.

He watched on as the humans one by one grew restless, annoyed, agitated, and then almost perfectly timed, reached for their devices to let whoever was important enough know that their day was ruined.

The delightfulness in Risu broke his face into a pacified laugh. This to Risu meant that coincidence would erupt on the day like volcanic ash.

One man cursed so loudly that the fairy child was prompted to ask her father what a ‘pack of conts’ was.

Her father, who was now also eagerly looking at his phone, quickly explained that ’sometimes when people are upset they say naughty words.

White lies were ok when it came to socialising free spirits, but their inquisitive nature would soon dissolve barriers of trust if guardians played that card one too many times.

Risu always believed distraction to be a far better method, but it wasn’t really his choice to make.

Besides, it appeared the infamous ‘Mike’ on the other end of the static, appeared to share the same ideology, based on how furiously he was now texting.

So distraction it would be. He would play a small game for the pair after all.

He unfolded a pair of headphones, plugging his ears, and pretended to bounce to music while the train sat idle. Just as quickly, he offered the headphones to the man next to him.

Who, surprised by the gesture, reluctantly accepted and plugged his ears instead.

A confused look sprung onto his face, as evidently, no music was playing.

Instead, Risu winked, pointed to the man’s pocket, and watched as the man pulled out the note from his sleight of hand magic moments ago.

“Feel like messing with them a bit?” asked Risu.

The man raised an eyebrow, but responded in a dreary tone ‘sure’.

That was the thing about lonely humans, you could always rely on them to play along with humour if they learned to trust you.

Risu sprang to his feet, startling some of the passengers.

The crows outside took this as an invitation to scavenge their territory through the humanistic wasteland.

The bewildered passengers looked on as Risu began to dance to the crow’s song. Unheard by most, crows and ravens alike appeared to bind to humankind through their willingness to see trash out of treasure. Or perhaps it was the other way round.

Apathy for the wealth that continued to grow.

HONK!

The train horn blasted. And Risu pretended to be thrown backward by the upcoming withdrawal of the stalemate.

A split second later the train jolted and the commuters consumed by computers also lurched backward as Risu did (just out of time with the crows beat).

He looked the father directly in the eyes and announced to the carriage that he was a transit officer and would soon be looking for valid passes for the train’s efficiency.

A beautiful girl with frizzy dark hair giggled at his jest. Her eyes were a deep brown and her face was perfected by a lack of make-up.

“Excuse me miss” he preached,

“But as rude as it is, I’d like you to take this tape I’ve made, cause my crews on some shit, its for you to borrow, so here’s my number, call me tomorrow”

He produced a pen and paper and scrawled on it -Headless princess- Bliss n Eso.

She reluctantly took his note and said ’sorry mate, I have a boyf..”

She then looked slightly bemused and smiled again at his now evident lie.

Her tone changed and said ‘Thanks’ but he didn’t look back, he simply hoped the girl understood his strange language, beyond words, but entangled in belief.

He then went on to find unsuspecting victims for his grandiose show.

The little fairy was now trying to reach for the grubby handrails designed for stability for passengers without seats.

Her father, now slightly more in tune with her wonder, held her up so she could pretend she was as large as her spirit truly was. He was a good father after all.

As he approached the more irreproachable passengers who accepted his careless wit as the jest intended, he prepared himself for a game of chance.

In time, he headed for the seemingly homeless man, but instead of asking for proof of travel, he asked instead for money.

This sparked concern from a few curious onlookers. One in particular man, who he had noticed from past travels, mouthed a word of intrigue that Risu knew to be discontent.

The dishevelled man promptly produced the note, which sparked more alarm amongst the growing audience.

”Hey now, hey now” The discontented man decided to interject. “If you need money, why don’t you just get a job?” Obviously, he was a fan of RIsu’s earlier work.

Risu didn’t answer him, so instead the man tried a different tact. “How about I buy you both something to eat at flinders huh? “

And there it was, magic after all. The established generosity that all men seek once their hearts are content.

Risu’s eyebrows danced and he clung to his foot like he was an acrobat about to perform an act of celebration. It was at this time the carriage jolted and Risu lost his balance. He crashed hard on the synthetic train floor, knocking the curly-haired girl’s belongings out of her purse.

Embarrassment crept in like a starved beast and he promptly left the mess he had created and moved into the space in between the carriages for time to reflect.

The jester and the martyr were some of the earliest teachings he had received from his father’s pagan and druidic teachings and yet, he could never seem to leave this station of his own life to produce the poetry he was inclined to leave behind.

He knew there was more to his gift than simple parlour tricks and gifts of laughter from the birds who looked at him in wonder, but he loved their friendship most of all, and he hummed to himself…

At the end of the day, he had come to love the lost. Listening close is not what they would usually do, their ceiling was a skyline with a beautiful view.

Later Risu watched on as the pair were at the station cafe purchasing dim sims and a doughnut.

A clear and beautiful demonstration of conscious capitalism in all its gloriousness. He chose himself to remain unseen (or unapproachable) until the demonstration concluded.

He approached the displaced man for a proper conclusion. He explained that the headphones were the real gift. And that freedom of music meant freedom of self.

The pair enjoyed a casual, if not a brief exchange of ideas, before moving on. And with that, he evaporated into the day, just a little bit more powerful and self-assured than the day before.

Learning from tomorrow’s visions is cast from the shadow of today.

He looked directly into the sun and thought a thought he had every day, “Thanks dad”.

He then cast his gaze downward deep into the centre of the earth ’Thanks mum”.

One day i’ll grow up… he laughed at this lie

Much like he did every other day.

Bars, pubs, clubs

Freak-nicks, drenched in vampires’ blood

But wait, she looks like a nice girl, I’d like to meet her

She seems a little lost though, I’ll try and reach her

Nah, that’s oblivious, don’t get involved

She’s known to hold the dice of life and let it roll

Oh, I see, a bit of a gambler

I’ll grab my cape and a bag of convo’, I think I can handle her.

A subtle air was stirring through like friction creating static electricity in the mind’s eyes.

Sweat was beginning to build in Riso’s pits of despair. He noticed the winter sun giving a breath of hope to all that sprung towards it. And he reminded himself that the first thought never belonged to those that clung to it.

A sort of psychic vision shared by all those that appreciated subtlety over egotistical manifestations.

The roar of nearby traffic and dancing wind patterns reinforced his belief system.

He was on edge, having agreed to meet some friends for social engagement. He was re-adjusting to life on the outer walls of freedom and still found it hard to accept both sides of his mind’s inclinations.

He played an internal game of sorts, where both thought and mind met each other halfway and greeted the other like old friends, rather than opposing sides of a coin toss waiting to see which side held steadfastly.

His inclination was that he wasn’t ready for socialising with the unbroken, but he knew his prior agreement would see the night through.

He thought back to a sort of broken dream that he found much solace in. Self-love and Social love somehow had to collide.

He had a special angel of sorts to thank for this conclusion. A youth who taught and reminded him that you are always on the right path and always at the right time, there is always a reason to reach for the sun.

Meditation had gotten him further than could be expected when it came to self-indulgence, but he desperately wanted to manifest relationships that would always move forward and upwards, rather than hiding in the ground like a worm ready to be fished out by a sky dweller.

There was much he could do to prepare himself, but that quickly became a reminder not to dwell on what could or has been, but rather poke his head out from the ground and simply see what awaits on the other side.

The worm inside would have to trust in mitosis ‘Tonight would require a special kind of magic’ he thought.

I never hesitate to burn a bridge.

Sometimes I just remind them ’em what a furnace is.

And with the burners lit, it feels like the perfect gift,

I could see the future, figure out what your purpose is.

As far as social grasping went, his torch had already burnt most bridges to normality. And those closest to him had come to expect the unexpected.

Which in itself, brought disillusionment and dissolved his social standings.

He remembered back to a time not long past when he thought isolation would be the key to ultimate freedom for all beings. And in a way, he was right, he learned many lessons from his dependency from lack of dependants.

Where his mother had returned to being his best and possibly only friend that truly gave way to allowing his dream to manifest.

He dreamt of ants marching their lines and carrying out their orders, unphased by the judgement and the people marching over them.

Soldiers lost to a long-forgotten war of Giants was exactly the kind of war he idealised. If he had a druidic familiar, it was not the crow, but that of the free-roaming ants. The ones who broke the lines in search of unfamiliar territories, where attentiveness to the unimaginable was stronger than the changes the humans created in their wake.

He found referring to humans in this way a great reminder of the bones and the body he inhabited. Always at war with the giant inside himself who refused to bow to that of the small child that kept him from finding bliss in simple pleasures.

“Tonight would be a grand rewind” he chuckled to himself. This was the balance he came to love about himself.

Heads, he wouldn’t lose his cool, tails, he would see what dangled at the bone connected to the base of his spine.

His meditation had grown quite powerful over days of late. He felt the cells in his body shift and change as his mindsets ebbed and flowed through his system, catching every janky motive and reassigning self-love at every crossroads.

It all came back to attentiveness and he surely was attentive to where he was right now. Not at the end of his story, but always somewhere in between the Shire and Mordor.

A plan sprang into adjustment, soon he would prepare his body for stamina.

Good food, a little exercise, and relaxation. He was never too sure how tired his feet had grown since he first levitated. An exercise of the mind where he tossed his spirit directly at the sun and yanked his body in directions even the birds were unsure of.

He was a chronic smoker for just that reason. Directing air patterns was a way of assuring himself that he was indeed on solid ground and in one piece (at least physically). There were many things he had learned through this process, like when and where he should move based on his shadow’s guidance. He was just never 100% sure that he trusted the inhibitor of his exercise, which he found to be known in human speech as ‘self-love’.

A profound experience the day the angels whispered that direction in his ears.

It was such an obvious answer he often confused it with egotism. He knew the greatest sin to be that of pride, but he had met a glorious lioness who taught him the very meaning of the word and all its many treasures.

Like a dragon protective of its wealth, he too was determined not to keep undermining his worth with disagreeing and reluctance to wherever it was he found in himself. Which led him to his preparations.

Gentle but confident reminders that no matter what, he had the love of his queen, who much like the ants, praised their dutiful activities throughout the day. Would always be a part of something much larger than himself, so, therefore, he was worth it.

His friend Angus had invited him to a sports bar to proliferate their bond and help Risu adjust to coming out of the ward.

It had been many moons since they last shared an adventure together and although Angus was unaware of it. Risu had cast a powerful spell on him the last time they met.

Not even Risu knew that tonight would be where that portal would find its partner.

Angus had a distorted view of Risu.

And although they both knew deep down that they were spiritual brothers, that sentiment often led to Risu feeling belittled by the other.

Bound for excellence, the pair based their journey on the joy they could produce in others.

Their very presence of being present despite their differences was much to behold. Risu found pride in that sentiment and took to writing it down.

That is why he indulged so much in the written word, concreting a path to the future of heaven as he saw fit.

He wasn’t sure what the night would have install for the pair, but he knew that in the multitude of potential, it certainly meant uncertainty. And that was a crown jewel to the dragon within himself. Especially if another of his kind was there and ready to adjust themselves with him to his irregularity.

A selfish thought perhaps, but keeping some of the lioness’s teachings with him he pushed on as if it were to be just another day. (*just another day is used sarcastically here as if any day could be the same as the precluded one)

So here I am,

Still trying to make this stone bleed,

In the city of late trains and broken dreams

Where you rap with your talk or you graff on the wall

You gotta make something out of nothing at all.

And yes, I built this house

I made it wrong

I watched it crumble, now I’m moving on

Now shit is rotten to the core, what a pity

We don’t want to be forgotten,

That’s why we write our stories on the walls of our cities

He found himself staring blankly out the windows of his sister’s house when he got the call.

Constant rap recorded reminders that he would watch out for anyone he called sister while they watched out for him, a fair bargain of sorts.

She was his new protector and legal guardian after all. Her unregistered guardian was a dutiful canine named Sting and he trusted this fine fellow very much with her heart.

Angus would be there soon, so he took off in a rush to make himself (In his opinion) presentable to the public.

A fine Hawaiian shirt and shorts to match. Perhaps not most people’s thoughts of appropriate attire, considering winter was sluggishly creeping through. But his body was a furnace of ideas and calculations, which exuded from him constantly.

The cold air to bare skin barked up his spine whenever he paid it heed, and that was enough to moderate his modest attire.

“Can I smoke in your car?” he asked Angus as he arrived.

A gentle reminder that Risu’s true love of smoking was always at a juxta between him and society.

“Nah buddy” came the reply.

He sucked down the remainder of the cigarette and promptly set off on their tame adventure.

Risu appreciated the idea of male friends as a wolf pack, constantly growing and fighting for social dominance. By placing himself in neither Alpha nor Beta position, Risu dug his heels in and simply listened to the inevitable revelations that Angus had to behold.

He always had fresh ideologies and crooked concepts about the world at large and Risu was grateful that this brought his friend peace of mind in these confusing times.

It also meant that he could hold firmly inside the shadows of conversations and only leak out pieces of himself when he felt ready. For this, he was very grateful to Angus, who loved taking the lead, as he proved himself time and time again as a worthy leader.

A pause in conversation reminded Risu of a worm sticking his head out of the ground and he chanced that Angus may like to hear some of the writings he had foretold of their night’s dream.

Angus agreed but didn’t have much to reply with other than ‘righto’.

Australians were very good at not saying anything by saying things, thought Risu.

They soon arrived at a very special location. One more member was to be added to their party before their final destination was attained. And it was here that Risu felt the presence of his leaders marching beyond social bounds and invading humankind.

“These bloody ants!” claimed Billy. “They’re all through the place, I just don’t know what it means!?”

There was Risu’s unwelcomed laughter again, he couldn’t help himself when natural phenomena and messages foretold met head to head in a dance of neutrality for all.

From here on, Risu felt the dice of life rolling about in his head.

Never sure where they would land, but due to his father’s sacrifice he chose to always trust in the rising sun.

“So why not take the gamble?” he thought.

He wanted to pay his respects to the elders who led his idea of the sage of the 6 paths.

“Tonight will always be different,” He told himself.

If 1 Part of man is 3 parts of the devil, who would he be to leave that dog alone in his kennel?

Soon he was offered lettuce from such a character and with that, he fell asleep in the waking world.

From here on in, I Russell Austin, cannot contain the vibrancy of the enchantment foretold in my strange language.

There are many paths the sage may take in the waking world and once inhibitors are triggered, certain events and paths are forced to intersect like insects marching to war.

Some may find solace in my written words, others in confusion, and delicate delusion. But all my intent is set to replace our own misunderstandings with corrections in playful jest.

I would invite you now to the tale of where I found Risu, and how his love of ants triggered majesty and eloquence into a malevolent force far exceeding my own expectations of grandeur.

I to this day am not sure how far this web has been cast. But I once read a tale of a little prince who lived alone on a small planet beyond the reach of earth. Who fell in love with the first weed that grew by chance on his lonesome planet.

For some, this tale will fall into untold pits of anguish. And I would invite those with softer hearts, unshattered by ignorance to skip ahead like a goose bitten choose your own adventure tale.

But for others, I think it may be important to understand the framework that has led to my odd precarity.

I must start my tale at the beginning, so with this impossible task, I must beg you to keep an open mind. Because as grandiose as my story may appear at times, it does come from just reasoning and harsh social development.

Many people in this world have not experienced death in all its avenues and are quite right at keeping their distance if it does not interest them. And I will do my best to warn off those with such hearts that it is ok to simply dream in the wonder that beseeches you.

Many would have you believe the white lies to keep the gears of human development that are most important to uphold.

But to this point, in particular, I say no more.

This world is ready, has always been ready, and will always be heaven to those that cherish it.

And although we may face certain truths differently, I will always welcome you at my table of dreaming for a better future for all.

I am deeply sorry to those closest to me for all the upsetting actions I have taken to arrive at this station in life, but let me remind you of one simple truth that always keeps my heart in tune with the rhythm of esotericism.

The Sun will rise,

The moon will guide

And the earth will always allow you the glory you offer it back tenfold if you allow it.

Welcome, to heaven on earth.

Welcome to the midnight train.

Where dreams meld and logic bends into reality.

The Midnight train

By Russell Austin

Timeline first station

It was a warm summer evening when I arrived in this world.

Because of my star-told birth, sometimes I am unsure of my time and placement.

I don’t remember the occasion personally, but I am told that the night was so.

That my birth was without labour and that 3 wise siblings helped see me into this world, on-looking in a great shed in the near outback of Australia.

My first memory was that of sitting in a forget me not littered garden, watching on as my brother played mercilessly on our 24-acre property.

I remember a divine consideration for the earth below my bottom and dwelling on the bugs and insects I had potentially hurt by finding my balance on that particular spot.

Levitation was the only option I could consider to benefit my new friends and with that my spirit soared like an eagle for a great moment.

This I now know to be my first experience with awareness of enlightenment. I was so excited by this revelation that I finally broke my silence and spoke my first words to my brother, who excitedly announced to the family that “Rusty finally said something!”

I was a late bloomer after all.

I remembered trying to convey thoughts without having the right language to pass forth this dream of mine. So when the others started going to school and kindergarten, I was forced to befriend a new creature I developed.

He would later become known to me in many different formats, to my family I called him ‘Charni’ to others he was simply a shadow of a thought, lost in a personal odyssey to all that bore witness. And to this day, I have always kept him close to my heart. As if we were the same person, yet somehow different.

Like the reflection of your mirror changing shape as you reconsider your internal emotional networks. For this particular story, I have chosen the name Risu. A character that comes to life any time the winds between us change, even if just for a moment.

One day I was left alone in the garden for my father to watch over. But due to the toxic nature of my parents, neither had inclined to tell the other to watch over me.

Unbeknownst to me, my father was at this point at the lowest peak of his life, considering his options on the other side of this mortal plane.

I went looking for him in his private shed where I found him with a gun toted to his throat.

This memory was blocked from my mind until my early teens when he revealed to me that that coincidence led to him discarding his weapon and choosing the life of his children to revel in instead.

A brilliant time portal indeed.

Since then I have attracted many lost souls that prematurely attempt to visit Osiris and for this fact alone I am the most grateful.

But due to this irregularity, I’ve often been an outcast of my oddities. Many have found great pleasure in my jest, others great suffering. Never quite knowing the right words to speak or the right time to keep silent and convey love through action alone can seem an impossible task when dealing with suicidal people.

It is an art form in and of itself, simply to be present in the presence of death and decay.

But somehow as people, we find a way to pick ourselves up and find hope wherever we can.

This is the twist of our inner revolutions and we all share in the great enchantment of this potential change.

It was not long after that my invisible friend Charni did something quite rude. He changed himself into a great serpent and bit my right leg.

To this day, I am unsure if this was Apophis’s great war with Ra or if this was all a simple act of chance, but either way, from this day my life was never truly the same.

A change was imminent in me after this.

I began to see the real sorrow of my family as my father’s visits became less and less and their marriage dispersed.

My closest aged brother and I had a relationship dissolve over many years too that mimicked our parents. It tore us apart until early adulthood and for this my brother, I am deeply sorry for my part in such an occurrence.

I learned what begat real violence and lies as I bore witness to my father and mother’s malevolence and became obsessed with the idea of being the martyr for the unspoken for.

At the end of the day, I’ve come to love the lost

Soon I was sent to kindergarten.

And where most children saw freedom and potential, I was always left wondering why my best friend Charni had betrayed me so.

It felt unjust to the centaur inside me that others were allowed personal freedoms at such a young age.

But a lass, here it was that I found my first love.

A young girl named Ella who we quickly renamed ourselves ’RussElla”.

A beautiful sentiment for many reasons.

One, for the hope it conveyed to me at such a young age.

Two, because of how Rosella’s are a symbol of hope for my mother and me.

In fact, they listened in to our private conversations as I relayed a phone call to her telling her of the early conceptions of this very story.

And finally, my love for the artist known as Lorde also shares this beautiful name. And my entanglement of hope she has given me in the years of late is more than pure heroin.

I hope I can dance my words into her heart to really let her know how thankful I am for all that she is about. But we will get to that at a later time.

Call it unhinged sentiment if you will, but this is how I can perceive the world, from the scope of a child who was betrayed by his best and only friend into a vision of hope found in other human beings, also existing in personal trauma.

As time went on my imagination and love for the feminine arts increased as my spine developed.

All the time I was aware of the serpent creeping up and lighting fires for me to extinguish. It became almost a game to me to find the most tormented souls and proudly stamp my charisma onto them in hopes that one day if they ever fell behind the pack, they could always find someone or something to hold onto to keep their own demons at bay.

However, one day, I did something almost unspeakable.

One boy named Brendan who always seemed to be stricken with unsettled energy was so consumed with an imbalance that he struck me.

Not knowing what to do to defend myself, I simply cried until I could produce no more tears.

I saw before me several ant hills and remember my first memory of sitting in the garden of Eden and having such kind consideration for my little friends.

I wasn’t at the time sure why, but I took my experience and unjustly kicked over many of their homes.

This has haunted me to this day and for this, I would also like to apologise on behalf of my shadow.

I hope their queen found it in her heart to forgive me also.

Soon I found most of my work being the martyr for the unchampioned and less violent humans and always poked my nose into situations that required space in the middle ground.

“Bubby” was my name to my family at this stage and I had let that name replace Charni many years before that.

But even his flame finally went out when I copped enough beatings from students far older than myself.

Instead, I tried to live a life based on reality in search of known solutions to difficult outcomes.

Maths was taught to me by a very special individual named Ben.

He showed me a way of thinking around problems instead of head first into them.

I found it quite fun to show teachers I could outpace their curriculum when I choose to be a ‘smart ass’ and that title replaced Bub’s very quickly.

I’m sure this wasn’t Ben’s intent, as indeed he is actually extremely kind-hearted and to this day remains my oldest brother’s best friend.

I’ve shared much of my life with Ben and found a family within him on a multitude of levels.

But that story is not the one I intend to tell.

Instead, I will simply say thank you for all that you are, as I tearily write that apology for how our relationship concluded.