Temple Massage and Slashers

There are still times when I am finding myself severly limited by my own lack of ability to evolve. The strangest part of my psychology is that I begin doing things often knowing what the outcome is going to be. A+B+C=X. Same result everytime, and yet there are times that I walk into the same walls, knowing full well that it is there. It is in my way. It is familiar. The growing shadow as it looms closer. The same anxious comfort, familiar and hardened as I hasten the inevitable clash of brick and flesh. The same dull ache as I stare up at the sky for a moment in awe of my own ineptitude, before scrambling up to scurry around the wall and go about my day.
It calls to me, this wall.
Sometimes it even appears to me when it isn't even there. a hazy vaporous apparition, hovering on an imaginary horizan; intangible, lurking, failure. Reaching from beyond reality caressing the underside of my chin, beckoning forward, pulling with all the lightness of smoke, engrossing and mysterious, making me want to chase it...Hold on (cue needle scratching across record).
That is not possible is it? that I would chase frustration, chase the veiled pain that has plagued me. Crippled me. made me somehow less complete, or rather less than complete.
It is like the dumb girl, or the big jock in the slasher movie. I know not to turn that darkened corner, because I know what is there, what awaits me. But feet defy memory and away I go. Walking into the strangly lit blackness hoping that maybe, just maybe the Psycho with the big knife will be on his break. Outside on some cheap aluminum picnic table having a cigarette, and gossiping about the other psychos, or sitting in some dimly lit breakroom with wood paneled walls, apron untied, idly rubbing his temples, wondering if he paid the gas bill or what to make for dinner tonight. Spent and worn after a long day of carving up naive, less than cautious young people, their screams compounding his headache.


He would moan, I think, as he sits there idly rubbing his temples.......Anyway, long story short you have seen the movie, he is not on his break. They know he is around and they turn the corner anyway. A blood bath ensues.
I know how they must feel, my psycho doesn't take breaks either. I just have to be smarter than him. Or at the very least, remember which corner he is behind.





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