Indescribably Thoughts turn Flesh

Thoughts are random and a quaint source of ideas and images; where do these irregular notions come from? That's the question. Our individuality and our thoughts are the repository that holds the woken self (or it could be just electrical signals give rise to that of a conscious) - but in a stance they appear, with no weight until given action. In how one's consciousness form thoughts that are positive or negative in a literary sense: though there in between, either or not. We give rise to that of the soul or the source, the embodiment of one’s true being. What’s this negative impression to why we fringe against the dark half of ourselves. These rampant but engaging impulses of our dark selves, we subdue these strong but slightly dressed back and but departed fragmented sense of ourselves. Am I to repress my beast though I feel myself giving into this unbalanced portion of myself … in a way an expression of excitement and heart pounding appetite for informal behavior? These wild rapid thoughts give shape to something that is a desire that manufactured from within me or is just trick of my mind’s eye. A soul or spirit of that of person’s wild but free and unexpressed energy, though locked away. I wait for reason, solidification of these cravings to act on these urges, turn them into action to free my true self, my spirit or my soul’s intent. Like a wild beast stalking its prey.



To pierce the very  vale, the surface of that intent … the beginning of something twisted. A twisted wayward but instigated but vile intent.



At this moment I feel myself regressing back when... something I don't want get into right know( I can’t help but be myself) ... let’s say it was something not so pleasant, though the only thing I remember are flashes of what happened. One image that I can’t get rid of, I am not sure I want to, is a woman, her face. Her long lashes and blue eyes were like the ocean as it sparkled with dark intensions, piercing milky skin and long luscious hair graced long pasted her neck- down her back. The reminder is the scares on my chest and the lucid images drifting in and out at moment notice- when I lose myself. The other half is things my family and friends told me. I see her… this mysterious woman, this shadow of shell I am compelled or drawn to … she haunts me.



This painful thumping heart and pleasure of something not nor sure is a nightmare or is light heart-ted dream- jumbled together into in something pleasant and unfortunate. The very fact that of waking up like this day after day… is a fortunate fact but this night … riding in my car , I feel the burning desire - a aroma, a provocative notion and physical provocation in the moist air that  consumes me. Walking out of my car, shutting my car door ... I exhale for a moment.



Walking across from the parking lot, an intoxicating exhilaration electrify the hairs down my back, the tastes buds sizzle... a relaxing breath of ease grips me as my heart beats faster and faster – a woman in a muted dark blue short two piece dress, her tall legs – with her other friends as they banter and laugh among themselves. her glance... locked on to my eyes and her smile felt as though she wanted my attention. I followed behind on this long line this was popular place to be



  In the crowd of people, loud music and flashing lights trickle to the back of my head inducing me in kind of trance. Tilt back a bit and roll up my selves to pull my thought back to reality.  Although I am here stand lost in thought, luscious soft female bodies touch and press against my exposed arms - dancing around me trying to hold my composure. As they rub against me, the fizzling feeling bubble up in me. Ladies night on Fridays (you come to think of it) the dark but beaming lights and the loud music bursting in all directions. There are a few guys in the crowd but I wash them out of my mind- come to think of it my few of my friends (boys) must be here somewhere.  These friends have any clue of my imaginations and its powers over me. This place called the bridge is an awesome bar we meet up every Friday night. So this night, is a packed night of course- Jason pats my back from behind with fresh brew-ski as he refreshes his taste buds.



"What’s with the shirt man looks a bit (he exhales),  like you’re going to chop some wood or something. That shirt doesn't  even match your pants or shoes the whole night theme and thing  - whatever...ah though, look at... All these luscious ladies, women, girls, chicks, dude what’s with you, your acting weird, stop fantasying man and take  look at what's in front of you, see, know that's a hot girl right there"



Both of them glancing at this pretty girl (with dark eyeliner ) in dark gray dress and long brunette hair dancing with about four other girls, see stood out to Jason - her abrupt curves pulled hes attention to her.



Ringing my collar feeling kind of awkward, in a weak and soft but harsh voice "come on dude give a me break"



"really that shirts not you man, first you have to grow a bread , sprouts some muscles  man, wait , dude"



" that said man really you never give me a break"



" that's what friends are for my friend "



Jason puts arm over my shoulder and says" don't you know it man, mike my man"

how long have I known you ... really  he squeeze tighter  "come on we have been friends since where toddlers ... our mothers are best friends of course me and you. This our life we are at our prime - we are wild wolves - a pack on the prowl and they are our prey for the taking"



  In his lite black stitched shirt and dark jeans and well-polished shoes (a peer of silver sunglasses folded hanging from chest off his shirt - a 90s style kind of guy) he guides me towards the guys (ever since high school )- wait a moment we'll meet those guys later, rewind before Jason interrupted me. There were are some lovely girls dancing somewhat provocatively toward my direction  and smiling at me of course. Purposely looking for my attention. One girl in a group  pulls down her neckline of her dress teasing me turning away with smile on her face. Though there are a lot of women in and around me, but they caught my eye. That remind me of the corn of the club a group of exclusive girls but a particular girl, I cant stop thinking of.



  Every Friday night at far side of the bar, there are some chairs and tables, at the very end a particular chair ... this angel, this goddess.. Though this night she wasn't there, but friends her or so called crew was present but she was anywhere in sight at the booth. Looking so hard i could imagine her smile and perfect physique - imagine those bright green eyes and that smile of hers and the long straight red hair, wavy at the ends - its as though I was conjuring her into existent right there at this moment.



"Dude what are you spacing out about ... you look like drooling dog at the pound, man and the guys are here like always to hangout and .... man it like those girls vampire-jeti pseudo mind drained you or something"



" Well I am ok dude ... "



" here are the guys for starters "



At the bar the guys knocking back some cold ones though I don't drink - Robert , Dean, Jamey, Phil... the loud music kind of drowned what the guys are trying to say... " where is Zane ? where could he be ?"

Phil and Robert , also Jamey chime in "  Jamey :  I don't know but I texted him just a moment ago"

" Phil :  yeah man what's going on "