Of those who have eyes to see, few have vision.
And of those who have vision, fewer have feet to march onward.
Choose a road, and walk! Your personal epic is awaiting your footsteps.
Forewarnings for the Fall
And when you awaken from your inebriated self-absorption in the dead of autumn, I will be gone, with nothing but cold sticky moisture around the pedestal of your neck to remind you of My shadow.
Choreography Vitae
Verily, I say unto you: As effortlessly as Purgatory's prima ballerina twirls, I pirouette your malignancy off of Me.
For I am the Mastr Choreographer of My life, and your cancer is immobilized by My greatness.
The only foe that is worthy of My sweat is the inner critic, and He testifies to My sublimity. It is so.
The Explanation
"Ok, that just about does it. Sign here please."
"Thank you SO much, we really appreciate it!"
"No problem! Oh, can I use your restroom really quick?"
"Yes! Of course! It's the second door on your left."
"Thank you."
***
"Mother! Mother!"
"What is it? What is it?"
"I, I...I don't know...the young Turk who just installed our water heater outside, he, he..."
"What did he do???"
"He, he...I can't explain it. There's red stubble all over our sink, resembling the glowing-red, forged wrought iron of a blacksmith's!"
"Ok, then I suppose he must've shaved before leaving, how rude of him to do so! How rude, and bizarre!"
"No mother! You don't understand. He wore no beard upon arrival, and he surely was not red-headed, he was a brunette!!"
"Oh dear." "Call your father!"
"Father! Father!"
"Yes? What is it Ophelia?"
"The young Turk who just installed our water heater outside. He left red stubble all over our sink, resembling the glowing-red, forged wrought iron of a blacksmith's!"
"That BASTARD! I'LL KILL HIM. TERESA! HAND ME MY MACHETE!"
"No father, no! You don't understand. He wore no beard upon arrival, and he surely was not red-headed, he was a brunette!!"
"Dear God." "I'm calling Priest Morales."
***
"Yes, Priest Morales, a word with you please. Ophelia! Here, tell the Priest what has happened!"
"Hello, Priest Morales?...The young Turk who just installed our water heater outside. He left red stubble all over our sink, resembling the glowing-red, forged wrought iron of a blacksmith's!"
"I see. 10 Hail Mary's and 5 Our Fathers."
"No Father, no! You don't understand. He wore no beard upon arrival, and he surely was not red-headed, he was a brunette!!"
"My God in heaven!" "Ophelia, are you sitting down?"
"No Father."
"Sit down, I will tell you at once what has occurred."
"Ok Father."
"Ophelia..."
"Yes Father?"
"The young Turk who just installed your water heater outside. The one who left red stubble all over your sink, resembling the glowing-red, forged wrought iron of a blacksmith's."
"Yes??"
"This is what has occurred."
Vagina Dentata.
And at once she was straddling Me. I looked down and grimaced in horror.
Her cunt had a dentile disposition–incisors projected out menacingly along the ridges of her labia minora–a pink fleshy spewing gargoyle that existed only to tyrannize My dreams at night with its satanic and caustic clutch.
My range of motion was deprived, but I could feel My body convulse as she governed over My anatomy, My fears, My erection.
I slaved to breathe from the bloodcurdling brutality as she siphoned My seed into the wickedness of her ravenous receptacle, but before I would lose consciousness and the will to live, she was gone in a flash, and so was My virginity.
Descent
Spiraling down from the sky, I waited on land with outstretched arms. She landed celestially with the grace and elegance of a hardened dancer.
As I carried her close in My arms, she noticed My own scorched wings, and interrogated Me.
I looked into her eyes, smiled, and whispered in her left ear, "I'm going to fuck the hubris out of your marrow." This silenced her, as she knew that I was her holy terror.
We walked toward our little cottage where she would accept the moon's mandate.
Ascent
She had the gift of flight, and she reveled in it.
Her friends and family warned her of Icarus' fate, but she reminded them of the other part of the myth that they had overlooked–that if she accepted complacency and flew too low to the sea, Poseidon would surely make her his bitch. So she soared.
Closer and closer toward the sun she ascended as I applauded and cheered.
The clouds lifted her up in eulogy.
Capital Punishment
I wasn't particularly tickled pink with the proposal given to me.
Frankly, I wasn't into feet fucking. But after having been shown the heights of what was physically possible that fateful Groundhog's Day afternoon, certain ethicalities of mine were being condemned to death.
The capital punishment of our preconceived notions is the mark of an ever-evolving individual.