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Salty Tales of the Sea, II,5"Like what's your fucking problem, man?!"I had no idea who he was.I had no idea about his intent.I had absolutely no idea what to say.I didn't know what to do, didn't know what to expect.Somehow I guess that's just life in one very huge nutshell.One large, hard nutshell that does not expect, does not forgive.Nonetheless, I did admire the way he spoke, the way his, his... limbs moved.Gesticular! There's the word. I did like it, and even remotely enjoy it, so to speak.Coming to think of it, I guess you can tell an awful lot about a person by their gesture.What they really mean. Why they're here. What they really mean. All in all, simply what their true, honest intents are.Wait.I'm rambling on a totally different scale here. Like, a whole new level like you would not believe. It is the way I am, I admit that.But let's get down to brass tacks here - I'M NOT COMFORTABLE ABOUT MY OWN WAY OF BEHAVING, ALRIGHT? Jesus. Relax a little, calm down.Okay, I guess it's not so bad. Plant
Salty Tales of the Sea, IISo no shit, there I was.See, walking down the aisle was really a no-brainer.In reality however, it was a true scandal. The florist was rude, and there was indeed no point in being here.Off I went, nobody had ever seen me enter, nobody would ever see me exit. Or would they? I had no idea, and how would I ever know?Who am I to come up with such a statement? Who am I to rudely present such conclusions and insults? No need to pull out a napkin, no tears shed, no tears to wipe.On the street again, staying on track. I knew where I was going, I knew how to get there, but I honestly had no idea what to do when I got there. There were undeniably plenty of options.I was walking. I was breathing. I was looking at everything and nothing, glaring into the realm of straight down substantiality. Nuts and bolts, name of the game. But then something caught my eye.A note. A note so beautifully soaring in the wind. I picked it up, not knowing what to expect, but dare I say; I was delightfully asto
Salty Tales of the Sea, IYou should like, go.That was the words. Nothing less, nothing more. A little hint. Not even a riddle, simply a statement.Well, there was nothing to be confused about. His message was clear. It was not just his opinion - it was a clear fact, and he knew it.On with the backpack, down the stairs, and out the door. Didn't even bother to say goodbye! But I guess that's just how life is in the fast lane.Now, the fast lane is a pretty interesting concept. What is it, really? Dead men surely tell no tales, and storytellers are a dying yet persistent race.I have no clue. In reality I'm wise and fancy, but I lack style and proper manners. I'm a man of the past, but bound for the future. There's no denying it - I just have to follow the road.So, what is it that makes EVERYTHING so god damn special? To be fair, only a handful of people know. The truth is, everybody ought to know. The bottom-feeders and the true sons of God. All should have the knowledge.The problem is not the capability of
Yellow hairTNT is importantThe yellow hair comesBut he's a gingerThe pipe flies throughThe glove cannot stop itThe skull is being smashedHe eats from the plateSits as the sun goes downHe is breathing loudlyTwo rolls of Mentos are fallingThe cocoa ain't hotIt explodes in his handThe souls are still unforgiven
bricks are dangerousThe brick falls from the tree.Fights its way through the air.It lands softly on the trampoline.Bouncing once. Bouncing far away.He was bend over the flowers.The grass becomes red.Laying in the grass so softly.The man looks him in the eyes.He didn't even blink.