- "it came to pass that seclusion became his science" - alone, the frail bodied boy sat one day atrophied by his own laziness in a quaint coffee shop that was viral with its thought provoking propaganda his melancholic face mirrored beautifully in the oil slick black of the coffee (it was so bacterial) (its placidity reeked of boredom) (and burial..) cheeks hollowed out and sold greedily to the consuming store of famine and apathy lips plastered casually, yet efficiently with lipstick, red, which spoke volumes yes, volumes of feminine qualities (or did he really just hide the grey rancor?) (the rancor of slowly impending death and decay?) his eyes were always plagued with unsatisfaction unrequitted love, or perhaps a longing for the impossible something he could have never had.. haunted with an unquelled thirst (maybe he just like the bloodshot quality) with his hair unkempt and in curlers of iron all of the ends were short and long, unevenly cut (his comb had become the object of obsession) (for an all too filthy sewer pipe) - continuously, he continued, continuing to stare morbidly into his half full, (half empty) cup of coffee.. the ashtray becoming a circus of dead ashes as the ringleader kept on burning.. people milling around here and there laughing gaily with each other; lazily lounging around, telling insipid anecdotes lips formed into circles, inhaling nicotine freely (or sometimes pressed neatly upon porcelain cups..) hands moving this way and that, expressing physically.. what they could have done, all too well, verbally.. some teeth gleaming all too brightly and some of them just wouldn't come out from behind the clouds of plaque chrome cash register ringing, dinging.. its inbred greed all to coherent for the boy.. (whilst everyone else was ignorant) cashiers saying perfunctorily, "have a nice day!" like a ritual that had run its course years ago.. (artificial friendliness) (all i can give you is vomit) ("have a crappy day!) - and in a sudden burst of nostalgia, the boy begins to reminisce about the good ol' days, when everything was innocence... (or the bad ol' days, and he's deceiving himself?) - he recalls a boy of pre-school.. power hungry, trigger happy teacher.. the orange has been consumed.. the peel is left to rot in the garbage can.. but oh & no, and here comes the fascist bitch! and suddenly the peel is left to be disintegrated into excrement in the lower stomach and bowels of this young'in.. - he remembers a boy of kindergarten; of grade one, (kitchener) of grade two.. (london) the boy was proclaimed a loner.. (and no one offered their less than sacred friendship) (did he stand out a little more?) (did he have the mark of cain upon his brow?) and one day the blood flowed freely from unpunctured holes the drip drop upon the concrete scarcely heard dotting it here and there with red.. (my oh my, it's a new work of art from Andy Warhol Jr.!) - everything has been uprooted, everything has been fucked over.. an average paying job has been thrown away with disdain.. (but forced into independent submission?) and a family moves solemnly into a wooden shithole.. (from a luxurious apartment of the most gleaming white) the city left behind a clue in the first slaying of the soul (aquaintances left to rot in fake sympathy and loneliness) ("we'll miss you!" - - - bullshit.) - "it came to pass that seclusion became his science" - just as he became the new boy in school.. the children most assuredly shunned him as an outsider.. (an ignorant bitch in progress smashes down with shoes upon feet) and the desks hate him just as he wants to be their friend.. (eyes following after the passing parade of loneliness) and the three years of torment and pathetic angst were nothing.. (everything has been damaged) - once again a family uproots the child from his home.. (he had actually become accustomed to it) (oh yes, the wooden shithole had become a sanctuary) and into a seven and twenty year old house they moved.. (all of the furniture has been replaced anew) "just as he became the new boy in school.. the children most assuredly shunned him as an outsider.." of course, into another school he moved stock and barrel.. and the racist pricks spouted their anti-anything but white.. (and their own standards..) as the child continuously walked around the structure of bricks.. hour after hour, day after day.. (it's over .. finally) - for the next year to pass was to be his worst.. from class representative, and intelligence superceding the rest.. to a lowly maggot to be picked upon.. and a stupid motherfucker in a world of sin.. from blasphemous and daunting words.. (spat out like a poison that they didn't want) to a romp in a garbage can one "fine" winter afternoon.. (oh yes, thrown in he was, but his "friend" was there to help..) - ..he orders another coffee, and lights another cigarette.. - SAUCE00Seclusion was his Science Part II Eterna Scrollz 19981227ˆ