But to watch them walk away…. To have to endure that level of delicacy and devotion eating at your sore spots is too much to ask, simply too much to ask.  This poor soul, withered and pale. This languishing pin cushion to the world has a last breath in him. Do not forget the tourniquet, I beg you.  I know the air escapes you and the bend in the road is nearing, but hold on to that impulse driving at the blank spot of your being.  Ouch, now that number hurt, cut a little too close to the bone.  I just figured I would stop it all and let the example ring loud and true, you know, a visible representation of the preferred behavior, conditioning the rabbit so to speak.  Trust me, or not, no matter, only when fading away slightly until the rations run dry and the lapse is at full circle will I beg for more.  It is simply terrible and complex, I suppose that means terribly complex, this is nothing, grammar is nothing, all swooning, ill gratified masturbatory tendencies, slop, and fresh steaming slop at that, and once again, nothing more, have I said that before?  The trash heap is too high, brimming over into the vast vegetation that has become my surrounding.  Thick and lethal, that is how I imagine it to be.  Thick and full of fire, piss and vinegar type shit, you know, the real McCoy.  No characters, no deductions, no prescriptions, total and utter chaotic malpractice.  These fools will never know what hit them.  A swift one to the rocks and then we will move on to more important things, essential things, to be perfectly clear.  Man x, Man y. Each on their way.  Two bodies. Have been for some time.  Face to face, appearing to one another at a well placed intersection. Toe to toe, nose to nose. Too close. One step back. Much better.  Man X greets Man Y.   Man X, eyes Y’s trousers. Man Y eyes the hat in front of him.  Man X eyes the shoes. Man Y eyes the mustache. Man X admires the overcoat.  Man Y sees the discomfort in Man X.  Man X nods. Man Y takes two steps left. Man X takes two steps right. They have nothing more for each other. They fade, slowly falling apart towards the distance. My earth, this earth, moving at steady volition, suddenly turns transparent and I feel ill.  I am  moving at approximately sixty six thousand, six hundred and sixty miles per hour, yet remain perfectly still. I never gave up, I can always say that much, at the end of the day, when I bend my neck and tilt this skull towards the night sky, I can forgive myself and find comfort in the idea that I simply never gave up.  We are steady. We are on board.  Man X, rather ginger in his steps, proceeds, moves a little further on.  On a road. One must have a place to stand. I am somewhere in the scene as well.  I am on an even plane though, no advantages here, besides, that has all been done before.  Yes, I am at an even keel with my prey.  Man Y, watching, steadily in his own right, turns to face a new direction.  Rain becomes a factor.  Wind assists the rain in ruining an otherwise warm occasion.  Dogs are now to be heard in the distance, scowling and howling as the clanking rattle of an approaching locomotive becomes more discernible. Thunder chimes into the mix, yes thunder, what story would be complete without it, the sky has blackened, and in the mean time, has become quite chaotic.  Pure white loud noise engulfs the helpless quietness . Blackness deep and dark has crept upon our little scene, one revolution at a time. One must be cautious of such things. No lightning; however, for that would simply be more than enough.