The Captains of the Hook!

ONCE upon a time, in a land far far away there lived a vicious monster, an evil beast, size, well it's about the gargantuan. His heart beat would be audible for miles.
Tick Tick Tick Tick Tick!!
I say, FUCK that!!
The land of the hooded school girls and porridge eating bears is probably now having a nice dinner party with the dinosaurs. In fact, with only a little glimpse to it's first chapter, the story of the Captains of the Hook has only just begun.

Craig, Hudstin and Siddharth, names that ring a bell?! (if you are hearing bells in the middle of nowhere, m'dear sirs/madams you are going pyscho and if not, it is one of those bells you DO want to hear, fucked indeed!!) Moving back to a world of "unbracketed words" the names are familiar, the faces need getting familiarising and that too, QUICK!!

Playing bartenders, they will serve you Galaxies in Coffee Mugs, wearing a chef's hat, they cook y a platter of Fairytales. What comes next, is not yet known but I'd suggest you have all eyes out on them.
Vintage to some, mordorun (read: brand new) to the others, these boys have grown with invention in their hearts. Growing still, they've found their magic beans and now they are all set to take us all up the beanstalk this time.


Galaxies in Coffee Mugs

So then, this world is a world of wonder. Very similar sounding words, wonder and world, but it throws this odd blend of concontions at you that you don't know what to expect next. I looked at my coffee mug and found galaxies. Galaxies that were juggling playfully about. Sip it! Sip it! and you're two inches tall, A tiny fetus out to discover aliens that hold their hands out to you promising peace amalgamated with an odd merriment of dancing about through the narrows passages of a maze. Never neverland is never too far. The war has been long fought and the hooks have been long discplined. The Captains have arisen after 3.24. What was masked as an end rose again as a giant. I bet I'd see a clockwork rabbit next. The coffees, the mugs and the galaxies. Hello Alice. You were missed!!

Lost deep in thought, thinking of nothing really at all. Your head,immobile against the window. The only life you feel, is that the music that floats around you, the music that floats in you. The world seems to move about perfectly normal yet it doesn't register. The umbilical cord that bound you to the word lost it traces ages ago and today you're only a cuckoo. The wishes that seemed to be whispering warnings in hushed tones today don't seem to matter any more. Nothing does!
You lie very still in the pool of your own blood. Nothing stirs within and outside of you except the hushed tones which are now probably screaming the movie that plays in your head. Johnny cut his throat open but no one heard anything he had to say. That's not how I . . That's not how I . . die. Seeing angels that you don't believe in. None that will come to your rescue. Seeing silver shinny horses running at you in all directions but these don't exist. The tale will never be sung. The movie will never be understood. The mind will never stop dressing up. Today it's dressed as a giant pig. The giant pig that grunts in mock laughter at what you have become. The giant pig that decides your future and feeds off the pity you have for yourself. That enjoys the froth that forms around it's mouth.
There are daisies spread across many many miles . But these daisies shine such darkness. You sit there gazing at nothingness that lies deep within your heart while you're looking at others banging their heads against the wall. Over and over again. The blades of cool breeze dig in your skin. Waiting.

So then, I imagine!

I am sat here in the dead of the night and I amuse myself with my fancy sentence formation. "I am pondering at the oddity of the whole situation."
Since when did my sentences start pushing up pansies? And them questions, they always breed in adundance, so then. Who am I? Who have I become? Who do I wish to be? Answers that are habitual to playing games with me.
So then, I imagine!
I wish to swap this balcony for a mountain top and I am Monet, only I paint pictures with my words. My words that colour many fantasies, which shall be hung in musuems, reminiscent of a world that once was. A mind lies here in the nude. Oblivious eyes only seek glamour. I would glitter for you babe, only if you let me shine.
So then, I imagine!
I dance with the shooting stars, your hand in mine. I laugh a million lotuses onto the friendless lake. I mother Jewelweed, along side poison ivy and oak. I cry diamonds in the running springs. I die a tree where now you stand in the shade of me.
So then, I imagine!

Exploding Minds!

I remember exactly how it was the last time it had happened. Saying that, it hasn't been that long. The wounds are still fresh. The scars still hurt. Maybe the wounds seem fresh because they are. Maybe the scars hurt because nobody never lets them heal. I just wish they catch nobody soon. Just another part of your life that you live in a rewind and you live it ALL over again. . Live? Is that really right? Or is it that you die in that moment? Is that how I would frame the sentence? In that moment, you die a little, each time, every time. Death conquers all. A little bit of happiness that paints the smile of the beautful night sky. But Oh! the sky still sparkles, only it sparkles with the flames of what had once lived once. Faith turns enemy. Belief. What belief? Death dawns upon us and it calls itself indifference this time around.
The same city. The same people. I look out the window but it still shines every bit of that glamour that we associate with it. As if just a few hours ago it wasn't witnessing deaths, as if it hadn't seen the muffled cries, as if it had ignored the anxious waiting faces, as if it failed to notice the havoc that was created, as if . . or maybe it still shines because all of that has become a part of the city. Maybe the city had always anticipated this and was waiting for it to happen so now it's refuses to react. But then how do you react? What do you say? What could I have done? Just WHAT DO WE DO? Or what does anyone do? Fight a nation? Kill to stop killing? Last time around I know I felt so helpless. And this time around I am sat right in the middle of it all and it's all real but today I feel indifferent. And why shouldn't I, I managed to remain 'unexploded'

Record

A story . .
A story told all so many times, a story we all know word for word. Words? Words can be such aliens sometimes. What are these words? I know not them. The seeker turns me. I look at thee, a tree, you don't have a clue. And the devil dances with such malicious sarisfaction. Such a happy soul, he!
They move so swiftly on. Oh! so many sins they commit. The weight doesn't seem to bother them, the steps still so swift.
A murderer, a rapist, a bomber, a theif, a beater, a bully, a cheat, all that is me and him, sadist still dances on in extreme merriment. Rubs his hands in glee . . !! "You're mine, you're mine!!"
Fiery flames, cheerleaders are them.
Surrounded by insidiousness!
Con men and women.
No, I don't know. I don't know anymore.
I was only a child in the world, beautiful with roses.
I was only a child . .
Land of thorns rains only red rivers. It rains red. It rains red!!
Those lovely eyes mirror such sadness, the sadness imbedded in them as if for ever.
Make a stealthy swap, place a smile instead.
They don't seem to walk anymore. I am sure they are just floating about on ice. Ice, that hasn't been for ages. Food, it looks for. Food, is what the ice wouldn't get.
The trees once clueless, grow stones now.
Who ARE you, Lucinda?
The stones pelt away. It never did stop. It never seems to stop.
MAKE IT STOP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Hiding, is no solution and I find myself telling my troubling to strangers who wouldn't care to understand.
With his many allias, the rumplestunskin continues to dance.
I would break out in a song but words can be such aliens sometimes.
Paralysis is a bitch!
No more will do no good to the pain that has been buried in me for centuries.
Bring on a mat of sharded glass.
Bring on floors of glowing coals.
I will walk on them all.
It's all turned into a melody.
Deafeaned by such agonising screams, I am walking, blind.
It's only better this way.

i dream

A year that started in denial, a denial that doesn't row the boat gently down the stream any more. The knots got tighter. The waits got longer and heavier. Illusions lost meaning and reality, well, all reality is only translucent. I was headed to a land of no thoroughfare and they said it will set you free. When you've grown up being told what to do, freedom seems hostile no matter how friendly you are. Freedom makes it uglier, probably more than what it is. Freedom makes you forget.It makes you forget the littlest things, the littlest most important things, like dreaming. What else can a dreamer do if he forgets to do what his name demands him to do? She just gets lost. I got lost.

She gets lost to be found. I got lost to be found. Faith, is probably the most powerful woman that ever lived. She eventually finds you and you have no option but to surrender because if you look out he window, it's snowing. Everything is happy when snows. Everything lives when it snows. Like little reminders, it showers down on you and you remember what you were forgetting. Magic re-kindles and dreams once dreamt come true. I think it was then that I saw in the eyes of snow and what I saw fixed me. It held me tight in its arm and fixed me.

i dream