A scar grins

quietly

its never loud

it doesnt need to draw attention to itself

at a glance its remembered

its searing memory need only smoulder a moment   to remind

a scar never fades from ones mind

it gets the inside joke

it is an inside joke

--   Hmm                                                                                                                                    touching the back of her shoulder

holding her to him

Whats that

--   That

--   Here

he presses it under his fingertips

--   My scar

--   Thats a wicked scar

--   Its not a wicked scar 

My scar  is wicked

--   Sorry  a little slow on the take up  It would be your scar  not a scar

--   Im pleased you can recognise the difference

Im very proud of it

--   Proud

--   Very proud  I got it doing something I was told not to do by my mother  Dont do this dont do that gets old  so I did exactly what I wanted to do and despite the hell and the fallout afterwards she backed off

She got it that I had a head on my shoulders and I was going to follow it no matter what she said 

 

The way she talked she never got to do anything she wanted

So why she said should I be different  or allowed

Because Im not you I said  

--   No youre not

It feels mighty wicked

--   You should have seen it when I was younger  Doctors wanted to do plastic surgery on it said I looked disfigured women shouldnt be disfigured we should be attractive every moment we can be

--   You . ah . . . collect scrotums

--   I do

--   You should frighten me

--   You should be frightened

--   Ill remember that

  

every time I touch your shoulder

--   Every time

--   I promise

      

--   Nice

You gonna kiss me now

0056,  Monday,  22  12. 14

“The same delusion of mistaking irreverence for ignorance makes people confuse 

skepticism for nihilism.”   (Fooled by Randomness, Nassim Nicholas Taleb)

for years his irreverence has been mistaken for ignorance  skepticism for nihilism

neither  however  is to say that he hadnt been ignorant (he tried very hard not to be)

or a nihilist (he tried very hard not to be)

he groped and picked at the dirt to tease out any ignorance (before he spoke) and

nihilism (before he acted)

he could say it would be less tedious

and consume less effort

to simply be either

THEN

he would be no better off than what or they who inspire him to combat

or check them down with lists of irrevocable fact

but his lust and fealty to Confrontation informed and afforded his combative Nature 

there is nothing he loved more than a good fight (thatd be a lie  --  restate) there is nothing

he loved more than winning a good fight (hed lost too many to be blithe or nonchalant  --  it is

hard to smile with your lip busted nose leaking eyes swollen or blackandblue)

                

which isnt to say that all his fights were had with fists

although to confess  he had a strong predilection for hard heads knocks and raw knuckles

it seemed abuse rendered quick deliberation  and solution

 

hed read his Prince (Niccolò Machiavelli)  its terse maxims

which were no less radical or encouraging than Nietzsches Übermensch ascetics

 

perhaps it was this devised nonmonastic austerely simple life which beckoned him

fixed his head and brawn

affirmed his fists and tightened his back his leg straps and balance so when he was rocked

by a blow to the temple his gears and machinations continued to whirl until his consciousness

or senses beat it back

                                               flying at Night or by the seat of his pants intrigued him

 

 

so little by little he informed those who were confused by him   and precedence and reputation became his twinned beams  his matte black Maglites brilliantly lighting his way before him

 

no one had to ask where he stood

 

he could lift a foot and beneath it see that X marked his spot

 

and he rarely missed his mark

 

 

 

it was really nice to take delusion out of the equation      

 

 

0054,  Sunday,  21  12. 14