Noir

Here is an experiment. I know a few read this from time to time.. how does this story continue..

The jangle of the telephone cut through the heavy silence of the night like a knife. An unsteady, nicotine stained hand sweeps through the desk , lifts the Bakelite black monstrosity and disappears behind the desk. After wrestling with overpowering nausea from the mind numbing antifreeze the Spaniards call wine from the night before, I reach for my crumpled overcoat and stumble out into the night.

It was quite late in the night, or too early in the morning, whichever way you see it. Lighting a match I cross the wet cobblestoned streets towards the pier. She said to meet her there. Something wasn't right. Some things are never right when she is in the picture. Still intrigue and an old familiar pang lead me into the mouth of madness like a divining rod. A light April drizzle befriends the mist and further reduces visibility. I stumble through the rubble and rubbish that garnish the pier. She was nowhere to be seen. Turning up my coat collars, I trudge towards an old familiar haunt. The Boathouse.

A sharp crack pierces the monotony of the rain. Gunshot! .. I race , two steps at a time, run towards the sound Instinctively, the right hand was already on my Walter shoulder holster as I burst through the door. The streetlight drew a sharp silhouette … a single rivulet of blood trickled down the steps into the river below. She lay there motionless..

A Rude Awakenin'

Its curious how oblivious we get to certain things after a while. It was always a known fact that a byproduct of smoking was the unbelievably strong and repulsive odor that clings on to your clothes and hair. It has been 5 days since I stopped smoking. Not a very big achievement but the experiment has been interesting. Day 3, I was sipping on some tea, reading something from a very drab book, when this gentleman walks by and sits on the next chair. The events that followed has left a lasting impression on me. He was a smoker. There was a cloud of some kind that engulfed his aura. He reeked! Oh my god! Wasn't I that same man a few days before?

You dear reader would probably not be surprised to find another post on my nicotine quitting streak. This whole blog is peppered with mentions of the various failed attempts. But till recently I just didn't have the right kind of motivation to quit. So what is it that's brought this about ? well now..;-)

addendum: Another reason why it hasn't been very difficult so far is probably cause of a horrid head cold I've been having for the last two weeks. We'll have to wait till it passes to see if I can stay off the butts. peace folks.

Raging Bull

I remember those cheers
They still ring in my ears
After years, they remain in my thoughts.
Go to one night
I took off my robe, and
What'd I do ?
I forgot to wear shorts.
I recall every fall.
Every hook, every jab
The worst way a guy can get rid of his flab.
As you know. My life wasn't drab.
Thought I'd much… though I'd rather hear you cheer.
When you delve… though I'd rather hear you cheer
When I delve into Shakespeare
"A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse", I haven't had a winner in six months.
Though I'm no Oliver
I would much rather … And I'm no Oliver
If he fought Sugar Ray
He would say
That the thing ain't the ring, it's the play.
So give me a stage
Where this bull here can rage
And though I could fight
I'd much rather recite
That's Entertainment.

That was the opening scene to Scosese's Raging Bull. An overweight, over-the-hill Jake LaMotta played by Robert De Niro lights up a cigar and goes on this rant. De Niro actually put on 45 pounds to play the role. The story is about a boxer back in the '40s. He was known has the Raging Bull for his fury in the ring. The story portrays his ring skills and his private demons he. We all have our demons. The length some people go to shut them up. … Cigarette ash flies in my eyes.. I smile.. careering through the universe.. axis on tilt.. guiltless and free… song from years ago. Moments passed.

The weather has turned to be quite a bitch. Old man winter's one last blast I hope. I haven't been back on Yonge Street in the last week or two. Too cold, the café's haven't put out their chairs and the crowd just shuffles as quickly as possible to their respective destinations. In addition to that, I seem to have lost The Eagle. Sorta kills the charm of having to walk up to a table and popping it on a pack of smokes. I wont be buying another lighter any time soon. Hopefully wouldn't need a lighter in the next few months. No, I don't plan to develop some self igniting cigarettes, although, that would be pretty slick. Crack it like a glowstick and inhale. Brilliant. I trademark that!