The monster in front of you

Its face is warped, decomposing away. Pieces of its flesh are gone, and bone peeks through like deep puddles on asphalt. Its eyes are like black marbles, large and round with the reflection from the light in front of it shooting out like beams. Reptile like, its skin tears as it stretches its mouth open, screaming at you. Its inaudible scream fills your ears with a numb nothing. Its foul hot breath reaches you as a chill, like a gentle hum running down your body making the hairs down your spine stand up. You straighten yourself, clenching your jaw hard. Your head fills with the piercing pain of holding back tears. You let it scream at you, stare into your eyes with its own empty sodden expression.

And then you scream back. You can’t hear it, but your throat itches and rips as you tear all the breath out of your lungs. Screaming at each other, your screams combine to make a harmony, a harmony that gives you a kind of peace.

You carry it, even if it’s heavy

Your eyes are closed, your head is bent over, but you still know it’s in front of you.

Loyalty.

It’s there because you want it to be. You make a point to have it in front of you, even when you can’t see it. Loyalty has a hold on people, and maybe that’s why people struggle so much with it. Because, it does dictate us. It is the reasoning to why we do things, and it is the wall that keeps us at bay.

People don’t always like having something have that much of a hold on them, and people choose life without loyalty because of that. Loyalty requires strength. Loyal is a word that is thrown around with importance, but not always carried as so. It’s a word that’s meant to carry weight. Loyalty should mean more than being faithful, it should represent you caring about something, actively being a part of it, and standing strong with it.  You have to know what you care about—what’s important to you. It’s something worth carrying. It doesn’t have to be a heavy weight, but it should be felt, always. Whether you have loyalty in people, in love, in work, in beliefs, in places, or even in things, it is a lifestyle that you are proud of, happy about, and is worth the weight on your shoulders.

Because we can’t go around walking with nothing. To carry something you care about is strength. We don’t have to do it, but it makes walking a whole lot more rewarding.

The shoppers card, man, it’s the shoppers card

Standing in line at the grocery store with a carton of eggs under my left arm, a half gallon of ice cream in my hand with a loaf of bread balancing on top of it while I dig around my purse for my shoppers card.

This is my life.

Holding tight to the necessities, the nutrients, that I know I can’t go on without, mostly because, well breakfast…—the eggs.

Grasping hard onto the sweet things that I don’t necessarily need, I guess it’s more of a want, but let’s be real here, it’s a need—the ice cream.

All the while balancing what’s thrown at me, hoping it won’t fall, but if it does, it won’t be a catastrophic event, only some dings that can be squished back into place good enough for a sandwich—the bread.

A plastic card that represents “discounts” and “‘loyalty” is what makes things hairy. Implied loyalty, and the search of a good deal suddenly becomes more important than your health, your desires, and your opportunities. Placing such trust in your left arm, the less dominant one, the weak one, to search for a symbol of your crutch is what can fuck your shit up…The whole thing can come tumbling down, but still, you balance. You look like a damn fool, but you balance and search. Why? Because it’s important. We hold what we can, and search for the tool that will get us what we want. Because if we don’t go after what we want these items will only be that, items. Items that fill yourself up, take up room, and just stay there. They don’t have a purpose nor a direction. Not until you scan that shoppers card and get the $2.50 in savings for shopping there.

Not to piggyback on the successful credit card slogan that Samuel L. Jackson has hammered into our brains, but, what’s in your wallet?