So here we go again, liking it much? That was dull. I completely hated it. What i saw was a waste of time. I couldnt believe they joined forces. But who am i to criticize a star wars movie or my own observations for that fact. I'll continue and you'll be greatful. It's all uphill from here. and dont forget downhill too.





They were considerably quiet for the first few miles. Then it sounded like death rode in the car with them. The type writer jiggled every speed bump they ran over and then the silence started back up again. It wasn't awkward for either of them. They were in their own worlds. Estella being the person she was, was thinking of how she'd begin her journey. Would she try a spiritual route? Would she try to become career oriented? Would she make friends with bums? Would she move to another country and develop its cultural habits and adapt to them? She didn't know. She wanted to get away from John. She loved him but he was a bump in the road. She was tired of the nights where she'd write countless journal entries about him and how her days went without him. That journal was now in between her legs and she never left it anywhere. She liked reading the differences between her first entries and her last ones. When he was there and when he was gone. This was the new Estella and she was off to find the moon that would fit her night.

Sam. She's the beauty of the flower. She's the sweet taste that you find in something you love. She knew nothing about her life. For the past few years she's run on cigarettes and cheap boxed wine. But she had a heart. She didn't have love but she had a heart. She kept that locked away in this invisible and imaginary apartment that had a wooden box under her floorboards. That was where the heart was. And only one person had ever felt their way to the floor boards. He was gone. He didn't find it to want it, he found it because he knew he could. He was her best friend but that's all he ever wanted. She was a mess and he was too but she was a different kind of mess. The kind of mess that you pick up only to find sprawled out on the floor the moment you turn back around. She found herself wringing her hands every night with the hopes that the scars would go away. She was still very beautiful but in a different way. You had to dig deep and John always did just that. He dug deep but without a purpose. He was only trying to help. She sat there in the car with her deep green eyes peering at the rocks and the shadows that it casted over cactus and small walks of life. She wanted to be in the shadow so that she knew she would be watched over. She was alone in a car with a woman she hardly knew. It was the beginning of the end for her. She felt the blood flowing through her veins and the words come flying out of her mouth....I don't want to live anymore.

Things happen in different ways for different people. Different strokes for different folks. But this story seems to intertwine with other stories and this is where I start off once again. I am your narrator and you are my reader. I know the story and you don't. Welcome to the world of deception and truth, you will never know what comes first and if there is an after.

She finds herself among strange people covered in brown dust. They all have the same facial expressions with the look of angst and depression. She finds herself traveling toward the middle of the U.S. and there's nothing stopping her. No family. No friends. Her self and her mind are her directions. No maps needed. Estella's adventurous. We all wish we were her. She feels it in her stomach and it is time for her to move. That feeling is the only thing that she can truly call her friend and she doesn't plan on finding anything else but that. She wants to find what she lost when John passed. Shes alone. As she's heading out the diner door, she spots a young blonde. She knows shes seen her some where and she hates recognizing familiar faces without a single clue of who they are. She figures it out. It's sam. well hello sam. welcome to the story. She runs up to her in complete awe and taps her on the shoulder. She welcomes her and asks for an explanation as to why shes left her home in Los Angeles for a dusty home that never ends under the moonlight. Sam looks and she explains. Shes missing something. She needs to find it soon or it will be too late. Sam regrets telling her this. She hates Estella. She hates her for being the last to say I love you. She hates her because she is everything she was not. She hates her because she wished she was there when he dropped the plates. John told her about the moment he met Estella, and ever since then, John was the only thing she cared about. They werent planning to meet. They weren't planning to make friends. They were both planned to find something. some ring. some story. some cupcake. some type of golden rush that would make them live again and breathe the same air that everyone else was breathing. And they decided this would be the only way it would happen. Two people in the same place, same situation. No differences except for the skin that covered their bones. John still in the same place he had been. They were in for an adventure. But what kind of an adventure? They didn't know. Little did they know that one would end up on the underside of the world and the other would be sitting in a field of flowers.

He used to do alot of things for her. He'd wake up and sneak down stairs making sure the sunlight was blocked off from the whole entire house and he claimed her prize. She was his and he knew it. He knew it from the moment he dropped the plate. The moment that the light bounced off the walls and had shown off her bracelets and strong blue eyes. She'd awake and find him gone. But he'd be sneaking around down stairs and she knew it. She knew where he was at all times but not because she wanted to know but because he told her. He wanted her to know he was safe. He liked when she'd say she loved him and to becareful, he felt like he was laying right next to her. She's remembering all this and now she has no home to go to. No surprise to wake up to. The house they once lived in is occupied by new souls and old memories. She will try. She know's she will try.

She let out her last drag for the day. She opens her eyes and sees nothing but the stars. She touches the necklace hanging upon her neck, closes her eyes, and feels the tears slowly falling down her face. She never told him how she felt. She never sat him down and showed him how every time he walked by, her heart would slow. And so your thinking, when I see someone I like my heart beats faster but no, this wasn't the same type of love. She opened her eyes and brought her knees to her chest to keep them warm from the cold night breeze...

Estella finds herself driving, listening to the mix tapes he made her. He didn't really sing, he more or less talked with the strumming of a couple chords of his guitar. She loved it. There were no limits. There were no boundaries. She was on her way to find something that she lost when he passed. She took a deep breath of the musky night air. She felt it whip through her hair and brush against her soft pale face. She parks on the side of the highway, turns up the volume, and falls asleep, listening to him laugh into the mic and say, "I pleaded for you. OH! Your undoing my knots. You undoing my life. Oh, where have you come from?" She dreams of watching him record his favorite songs for her. She lays on the bed with a smile on her face, clutching the blanket for support. She needed it. It was too breath taking. She remembered every detail and relived it while she slept. From watching him set the guitar down, to laying down next to her, talking to her about the desert, while he held her hand. She awoke sweating and crying. She wasn't mad, she was thankful. She restarts the car and looks for a near by diner. She pulls into a truck stop and takes her type writer in with her. She sits down and orders toast, coffee, and ham. She takes a breath. Their first date was at a diner, for breakfast. He didn't want a typical date. He wanted something new. He wanted her. He ordered toast and a side of ham. She was confused by his keenness for different things but she found it intriguing. She snaps back to reality. She starts typing. I have a feeling its a diary but who knows? I just tell you what I see, remember. She eats and types, but noone notices her. This makes her happy, she was only noticed by one person, and he wasn't there anymore. The sunlight paints her with emotion. It covers her face and brings out feelings shes never experienced before. Shes not able to dress these feelings with the sound of her voice, pronunciating every single syllable with the ease of her unspoken language. The words are mapped out with the solid blank ink being projected by the type writer. The world shifts around her. It is night. It is day. The birds sing. The owls watch. Rain pours over tall city buildings. Sun shines upon the brown Earth and creates a smell only brought on by dirt and warm heat that is constructed by the everlasting star. She breathes in. It is only a matter of time till she wakes up and gets the uncomfortable feeling in her stomach. The feeling intiated by the binding of negative thoughts. The feeling resembeling the nervousness that is passed out by the seriousness of a roller coaster. Once this feeling arrives, she knows it is time for her to go...

Part 1

The sun beat against the brown rustic floor. There was no wind to be felt or heard. The hills saw everything, still and silent, with it's watchful eyes. There were no trees around. No sort of shade for a being to relieve themselves from the sun. Now I know your thinking, we're starting off this damn story in the desert. Well, yes I can confirm that we do start off in the desert, but we definitely don't end here. More or less, it depends where your mind takes you. It's all up to you now.
So I'll take you to him first. He's no smarter than your average 24 year old guy. He works at a small Japanese restaurant in the middle of little Tokyo. I'm not going to describe him. I want you to form some special illusion of this man in your head. Don't forget your mind is taking you where ever you want to go. Now back to him. I'm going to let you recognize him as John. Now here we are with John in his small, miniscule, meaningless life. He's one out of a billion. He's not important. But I got you to think he had an impact on our story. He doesn't. He's our background person. The man you see laughing, having a good conversation with a woman. So fake. So unreal. We laugh at those people. We watch the movie countless times and even though we find them ridiculous, we can't keep our eyes off them, we can't stop pointing them out. Why am I talking about him, you ask? Because I feel you need to take on every aspect of this story as much as possible. You need to see what I see, you need to see what he sees. Do you know what he sees? He sees nothing. Because he is blind. Not literally. Oh no, we are not looking for a trajedy. We're looking for a memory. So let's go back into this meaningless person's past and capture a glimpse on how he lost his vital eyesight...



John's laying on his bed. Hair sticking to his neck and forehead. His air conditioning isn't working. Poor John...You poor man, who means nothing to this story. His legs are partially sticking out of his blankets, flailing over his bed side. He can't remember how he got home. He wasn't intoxicated. No, he was drugged. Sitting at the bar looking at the brunette with false eyelashes and false hopes. She saw the desperation in his eyes. She saw the meaninglessness in his life. She fed off of it. You bet she was hungry for a sucker. And you bet he followed her like a sick homeless puppy. One moment there were whispers and the taste of hot breath beating against eachothers necks, and then there he was, falling to his bed with his clothes completly gone. unconcious. Did anything happen? Oh, I know your quietly asking. I know your mind is going to places it shouldnt be. But I'll answer your question anyway. No. Simple as that. He was drugged and that was it. Poor John. You desperate man. Do you see now his significance, do you? Because if you don't, I will have to tell you what happens next. You dont? Alright. I will go on. John lays there, naked. Cuts on his wrists. Cuts on his neck. Bruises on his legs. Would you ever committ suicide John? No, silly. You wouldn't. Your too weak. You over analyze your life like a poem with multiple meanings hidden by metaphorical phrases and symbolism. Your too weak. John gets up, puts on his clothes, finds his glasses, and heads to work. His life is slow but it's all he has. His parents left him when he was three years old and his foster parents disowned him. He used to live off drugs like they were bread and water. It was all he needed. They were all he wanted. His lips were chapped and crusty from dried blood. This was normal. He bit his lips constantly to reassure himself that he still had feeling left in him. He was numb. He could feel, yes. But he was numb. Body, mind, and soul. All numb. He walked like a zombie, night and day, challenging anyone to make him feel something. Anything. Tears roll down his cheek because he knows he is numb, and it burns. It burns what is not there. His boss knows him well at the restaurant. So he never speaks to John. He has grown accustomed to John's far away personality. That's a nicer term for it. But today is not like any other day. Today is the day John notices her. Notices who she is and where she's from. He doesn't know her name. But I do. So I'll tell you. Her name is Estella. She wore jeans, regular tennis shoes, a wife beater, and her hair tied up in a bun. She wears chopsticks in her hair, even though it is held up by a rubberband. He gasps. His heart races, and there and then, he drops the glass plates. Shattered into a million pieces, clean, shiny, almost new. They are what he's been waiting for. His numbness shatters along with the glass. Into a million pieces. Not being able to be brought back together. His hands are shaking. His lips bleeding. His eyesight is back. He holds onto the metal sink's cold hard edges, sparkling underneath the light. The light bulb illuminates the offwhite walls with more than its gleaming light. The energy is telling a story of how the light came to be and how it will come to an end. The smell of the food roams the restaurant, creating a feeling of nostalgia to it's regulars. The loyal customers ofcourse. John crouches to feel the broken pieces of glass on the floor. His hands bleed and he watches the blood flow, slowly down his wrists and onto his apron. Her smile flashes through his head and he winces. John falls to the floor and he lays breathing slowly, watching the light flicker above him. He is no longer laying on the kitchen floor but a place in his head where the sun shines against the brown rustic floor. Where the wind was no where to be seen or felt. Where the hills saw everything with its watchful eyes. And there she was sitting indian style on the floor. Picking up the mud and watching it fall from her hands, creating a sort of dark heavenly mist around her. She's not perfect. She's authentic in her own ways. No serial code or certificate of legitamacy needed. No, nothing at all. Just his hand in hers. Yes, thats it. This is where I begin. Yes, this all begins with John and Estella. Hand in hand. Falling.



Its starting to rain. The cars are honking beneath the loft in the streets below. Creating a music only known to the ears of the people of the city. This is only aquired with sleepless nights, watching the salt and pepper fight on the television. I know nothing about this music. To me it's all noise. But what do you care about my opinion? I am only your narrator, and you are only the reader. The lights flicker in building windows. Oh how the lights look from here. Are you jealous? Dont be. It's only an image. You'll feel and hear this all someday. For now, these are my observations. I hope you will tell me yours soon. She's lying half naked on the floor, waiting for him to pick her up. She can't stand on her own two feet without him. John where in the world are you? So she cries because he has left. He is gone for good. Hours before she kissed his cheek and lay him to rest against a bed of flowers. Their relationship flashing against her eyes like a broken tv that won't stop the channels from changing. Scene to scene. Kiss to kiss. Hug to hug. Smile to smile. One blank face against the tv screen calling for help. A hand grabbing onto something for a sense of feeling. Searching for something to hold onto while she sinks to the bedroom floor of their loft. Her hair falls into her eyes. her cheeks are cold but she still breathes. She flashes back. She watches as they cover him with what made him. When they are done she lays on top of his own special spot in the earth and whispers only words he can hear. Dont be so selfish. It's his moment. I will never know the words and neither will you. She brings her legs to her chest. Holding them. Keeping them from the cold. Shes alone. Laying under a roof that is being hit by tiny droplets of water. Under a sky that rests for noone. She wants out. No more rain. No more music. No more lights. Just night. Just day. Nothing more. So up she gets and shes on her way to write a new chapter. To draw pictures in the margins. To scribble out secrets. To dot her i's and end her sentences. Shes gone forever. The floor is empty. The walls are bare. The streets are wet. The lights are glowing. The music is playing. Her mind is leaving the station of reality. Say goodbye. Take out your tickets. She's gone.


Hot wind wraps itself around her body. Creating a moisture that she finds comfort in. She watches everything pass her by. Dont ask where shes going. Shes as clueless as I am. The car runs out of gas and the journey ends here. Or does it? Dont doubt her. She leaves with one backpack full of things only vital to her survival. Hello nature.
Hello world. Hello sun!!! Her journey begins but we end here. She needs to find herself. her home, her mind. Will we come back? Depends. Im only here to tell you what i see, but what does she see? She sees nothing and again we are left blind.

Well now how do you like it so far? Shapes. Bodies. Tears. Earth. Oh all the possibilites, right here in front of you! I'll never stop! I promise. I'll go as long as you tag along. The garden is gleaming with new life. A new body is now what i see. You decide the rest. I'm not here to make up your mind for you. Let the imagination of a blonde body take over your mind and create a new face. So here is where we start again. She saw her whispering. She felt him smile. She knew he heard the words she spoke. You name her. Alright. I like that name. Sam. You beautiful person, you. She sits in the garden letting a long drag of smoke slowly drift from her mouth. Her eyes closed. Hands gripping the arm rests on her chair. Legs spread out in front of her. Free. Her mind is gone. She cant grasp the fact that hes lying underground with flowers blooming around his head. She fakes love every night. Poor human being. You think your giving her pleasure? Your waisting her time. Sad. Shes better than you, in every way possible. Sam, you liar. It was he who she saw, even in his days of blindness...





part 2 will begin shortly.