Sunday, November 1, 2015


CHAPTER ONE. of A BOOK by John Edward Randall, alone in his room. blah, blah, blah,
I AM Jack's thoughts...

          A BOOK           
by John Edward Randall, alone in his room.

Author's note:
This needs to be spell-checked and word-checked.

What is alone...? Something you get from the Bank... HA! The 'wizard' is sitting here, wasting time. *type* *type* *type* 

HA! I said 'WIZARD'...! Rhymes with lizard (What is it with this rhyming lately... (I should make a rap (Or write a book (My vocabulary is lacking though (Oh well (Haha.).).).).)?).

CHARLES: "Come on, John! Go-ahead! Smash your head in...! Go-On! show the world...! Be - productive! B-B- productive...!"

And as Charles threw me down, I had a thought that seemed to have spawned out of Newton's 1st Law of Motion, like the thump on the floor generated enough energy to keep going, to 'pop!' an idea into existence, and be pondered for a couple minutes, all while sitting on the floor.

(A thump is heard on the ceiling. Little white dust particles trickle down on the Johnson's dinner.)
Neighbors Downstairs: "What was that noise...?"

Ya know, sometimes I wish I did have a regular job. I often vacillate between choices: Oh how a regular job would be nice, it would be so easy...

Where is it? You-Know...? The EZ button seems non-existent in my present day circumstances. "But what are you talking about? It's right in front of you..." Channel changer, line of site clear open to TV. There it sits, almost complacently, in a docile manner, like a pet - ready to take orders, mounted in a plastic and pressed-wood entertainment set, product #23666 on last Fall's IKEA catalog... But who is the one that is taking orders...? "Perhaps it is the opposite and the TV demands that I attend to it."

He notes, that it is funny, 'funny' as in peculiar, that the whole room is packaged to sell. This is the future. Soon before you know, people will be packaged the same. But isn't that a funny thought...? Only 'funny' because it emulates reality. The PRODUCTS are not made for us... WE ARE MADE FOR THE PRODUCTS. Or conditioned to be... So it is the future... Uncanny, such an uncanniness it is commonplace.

TV: "The man on the T.V. says, 'Oink, Oink!' I always thought they were PIGS...! Well, they want our money, don't they...?"

I don't know. I need something, something to challenge me, but a regular job would be a sell-out. I feel like I have this chemical potential that is not being used up... How does something come from nothing...? Now, that - the answer to that, is probably worth noting.

The difference between THEN and NOW is that I was working for somebody else before. God Damn-It...! I got good at that! NOW, I am working for myself (Well, myself and God, really (That sounds corny, I know (We'll have to change that.).).), so something has to come from nothing. What do I want out of life...? Where do I want to go...? How hard can it be, to find a resolution, to be the spark that starts the whole universe and keep it in balance...? Well, my universe (At least.).

Before, I was solving mysteries for other people. There was a knack for it. Kick-knack, paddy-wack, give a dog a bone. And give me a problem. I would solve it. NOW, it's different. I must solve my own problems, and it seems to me to be the hardest thing I have ever done or pursued in my life. I have the gratitude of facing, and if never solved, the perplexing enigmas that could never have left so much of a mark or a chip off my gravestone, as much as gouging an inascertainable disdain on my legacy... perhaps. Perhaps only if I let it be.

What is it? What do I want?! What do you want...? What is the thing that is the most dangerous game, to choose to face and conquer, knowing full well that it could conquer you...? It... is out there. I believe it. It Must Be.

Do you think patience is a problem more so than a virtue...? It is a problem, and the only way to solve it is to do it, be it, keep it in existence (So I think.). Perhaps... there is no patience. But, there must be patience...! I always say, genius is patience. It has to be...! B-B- Because without it...

... I am just another man. Perhaps.

I am... I am... 

What is it with this "i Am"...? I AM using 'I' to much. Perhaps I should say "EYE M"...? ... Instant Message...?

Instant Message: Teachers note: John is somewhat Narcissistic. Neck's tie, he needs to focus on the world around him, focus on other people to understand himself. Concentrate on seeing the bigger picture. They say when you do good for others you do good for yourself. John must find something worth giving away to other people, something that will make a real, HONEST, difference (So I think.).

"You need Jesus." - Someone once told me. I am not too proud of myself to not say that I do.

There is too much calculation in what goes on; it's the dirty-ness that makes you sick on a long bus trip, the smell of vomit on the floor; you can feel the grit of the dirt in the crevice of the window pain, and for a second contemplate pulling the red handle. Did I just miss my stop...? Fuck my day and SMH.

doG: "sure, i'll shake your hand...! golly! look at this guy! Like A Million Bucks!" - ah the life of a nobody. where are these thoughts going...?

Find that thing that will surprise people, but not surprise - make you feel good. Yes, that will change the world.

But perhaps it's not about doing what makes the biggest difference.

TV: "On this episode of the Biggest Loser, it's not about who lost the most, as it is about who thought the most." But thoughts supposedly do have power. We shall see soon...

Perhaps... - the word that when used in a calculated manner, creates a copious amount of directions to which the flow of the conversation has the potential to spill into.

Perhaps it's about taking a left turn even when it is right. An uncomfortable feeling, but if it is what we were meant to do, it will always leave a good clean smile, no matter what...!

I AM just a wizard, but I will fight to the death! Time has no hold on ME...! Look, I've read through the whole magazine (Really, I just read to look at the layout (How they (The professionals.) use ethos, logos, and pathos in an aesthetically pleasing way to draw in their audience (Perhaps... (That word again.) I should do the same.).)

Look! On page 29! The wizard himself...! 'Fly you fools...!' TIME is haste, but minds afloat aboard the greatest ship that sails the sky! What is it...? They all waited, eerily and verily one cold winter night. But instead of an expected relapse - came a knock knock knocking.

Perception knocked on my door that date, an unexpected arrival, though I have thought it to be a man withered in Grey, such as a wise wizard, the splendor of his magnificence was of a valor and caliber ascertainable from the most precious metals, a brightness of the most brightest iridium, and a feeling of newness attributable to the greenest earth could not compare to youth the one displayed. Twas not Perception, but Perception at his Greatest. He said, "John, there is another mystery...! Another enigma...! Another place we will go..." I thought death would take me that night, but it was an opportunity to prove otherwise. To become the genius that cannot be sold in magazines, and to face another problem, the ONE problem, only patience can solve. I would hope to stop by Dairy Queen before we left on this EPIC journey into the dark realms of the universe that had surprisingly always been connected to the back of my mind.

John: "Will I see God on this Journey...?"
Perception: "You will see many things..."
John: "Will I be able to return...?"
Perception: "... ... perhaps."

... Perhaps, indeed. I should hope that the mind does not stray too far from harbor, such as a kite on a string. A warm spring day, the wind was perfect, my only friend, the kite, broke free from its bondage with the banks and continued upward into the clouds, where it was faintly seen for 14 minutes until it vanished. The clouds consumed it. And, though the weather was splendid, I had attached a feeling to the kite, and watched it as it slipped away, that when separated left me desolate of emotion. Silent as the clouds flow by. I would have hoped that the feeling was mutual, but why wouldn't it have been...? If I am the kite, the kite is me. And if my mind is anything like those clouds, I have no telling where I may get lost, what I may lose, or what I may find... I dream that the kite is on a journey, or maybe it has already gotten there, it would have been sad to lose it's owner, but I would say, DON'T BE SAD...! Where are my trash bags...? B-B- Be GLAD...


(How to end...?)
The End...? Perhaps. ... Perhaps, not.

by John Edward Randall, alone in his room.


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