In The Wild

There's a cool breeze in the air
Why should we be afraid to love

Last Wednesday was a great day as I was allowed to leave the institution.

“You’re doing better,” they say

I was never doing bad and because of that I can’t really agree with them. But they don’t want to hear. So using my voice I say “I do feel better.” Which is only a half lie as 30 minutes earlier they allowed me a cup of coffee. It made me feel better. I tell them half.

I’m back in the wild. Have been for a few days. People still look like wild animals or angels. Depending on the lighting. I checked our recent lighter collection: DEVOTION and it had sold out. That makes two of two collections sold out. Thankful for the enthusiasm and support on each collection.

I Hope They’ve Lit Many Cigarettes.

I am on Big Tobacco Pay Roll.

They’re Preparing Me To Usher In The Neo Smoking Culture.

Celebrating my release and the collection sell out I decide to go to Sheetz. The Diamond Of The East. The 24 Hour Haven. When they turn their lights on, they never turn them off until death. The hybrid mutation of a gas station restaurant created philly cheese steak can be gluttonous or it can be a peg on the ladder of 21st century poetry, motion. I am the grease of the consumer cathedral. I order online. On the App. I have ‘points.’ In the Sheetz Cannon, I am a Freak. This is like being knighted in England. Do you want a free car wash and order of mozzarella sticks? Winston can help you. Without the rats in the maze, who do the scientists observe?

Walking around waiting for my order. The Screen says WINSTON under the NOT READY side of the screen. I enjoy how simple society is.

Red blue. One Two Three.

Non verbal explanations made at a 3 year old level. We live in a play ground. I obey the head master. My order isn’t read so I stand and think about things. My favorite hobby.

Todays topic to go mad over is that people are giving themselves cancer by the stress that is personally induced when they Do Things, then consequently Shame Themselves, for What They Did. There’s a cycle of perpetual self imposed let down. They are the prisoner and the security guard all in one. Constant desire to escape, then punish.

I say THEY because I don’t consider myself apart of the Mental and Emotional masses abusive state. I’m outside but not outside in every arena. I still pay bills. I still consume. My guilty pleasure is movies, good tv. Sometimes when I view myself in third person watching television. I feel like a moth to a flame when watching the twilight zone (original). So - all to say - I can’t judge some things.

“Chuu Winston?” In a thick north east accent (Not the good kind. The marble mouthed kind.) The guy asking is behind the counter. His hands hidden but clearly at hard work over something. My sub. I assume.

“Yeah that’s me.”

He just kind of nods then said he loves the name. Usually when someone says this I say, “Thanks I’lll let my mom know.” Because she said she pi

cked the name in case I ever became President or a Nascar Driver. But I don’t say this today. Too loose for my liking right now. I let him know I appreciate the compliment. “Thank you.” And smile. Because I’m friendly.

“Yeahhhhhh… Winston……” He says as he scoff laughs at the end. Usually when someone does this it’s a clear sign they’re more in their head - mentally thinking or remembering something personal - it isn’t about me. He’s in a memory. And he hasn’t taken his eyes off whatever is behind the counter. He’s moving quick from the elbow down but everything else is stagnant and slow.

“I used to run with some Winston’s up in Jersey. Some good men. Good men. The Winstons.”

He looks like he is about to cry.

“Yeah, wow. That’s cool, I usually just get things like “my dog’s name is Winston or my aunt’s friend has a cat named Winston. So it’s good to know there are some good people out there sharing the name.”

I look at my phone because it seems like a good stopping point.

“Yeah. Even tattooed two of the brothers actually. Drew the tattoo that they put on they arms. Hahaha. Winston’s.”

“You tattooed them?”

“Yeah two of em. Used to do a lot of tattoos back then.

“That’s impressive.” And I’m not lying. I do think doing tattoos are interesting.

He smiles and goes back to Creating Art at the Sheetz. I take a step back to the area of the floor that I consider an appropriate waiting spot. Close enough to the counter, just far enough out of the way. I’m still analyzing, finalizing that this is the right spot when I hear,

“You’re all ready over here man,”

Our hands reach towards each other, his is holding my bag. As soon as the exchange is happening he says, “Me and the Winstons’s went to a concert. the band PARANOID up in Nuuw Yawrk. Met some girls there and went too went a party under a bridge in near White Lake and fucked em good.”

He laughs and I guess I did too. And I said something like hahah man, Long live the winstons. And he agrees and tells me to have a good one and there’s a since of camaraderie coming from him. I am experiencing wilder thoughts. My philly cheese steak had a strangers perverted nostalgia spoken over it. Intensely. At the exact time it transferred into my hand. I feel he conducted a ritual. Maybe I won’t eat today. I’m not hungry. It’s a good day to fast.

Am I doing Better?

To clear my mind I’ll work on Collection Three.

WINSTON

SOULED IDEA

PATIENT NO. 002214

SERIAL NO. 23752

SOCIAL SECURITY NUMBER: 244-62-9023

Books: Celebrating The Funeral, The Aesthetic Archetypes