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emiewritesthings · 4 years

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when we were young - kevin atwater

requested?: yes by anonymous

Could you do an Adam Ruzek or Kevin Atwater imagine where it’s like a flashback to the time him and the reader met and about their relationship and it cuts to their life now?

kevin atwater x fem!reader

a/n: i’m not sure what happened but i kept writing and it came out with this, hope you enjoy. please send me requests :) - emie

masterlist

ten years ago

y/n’s arms were numb as she ran up the stairs to the apartment for the fourth time in a row. her slightly impaired by the boxes that were piled up in her hands, leaving her feet in full control to guide her to the apartment that just so happened to be on the fifth floor.

as she reached the floor, she could already hear her brothers from down the hall. they had barely been in the block for more than an hour and they had already started to bicker, it was in moments like this that y/n wished she had sisters.

“where did you put my baseball bat? i know you have it!” flynn groaned as he searched desperately through the boxes that were labelled according to what room they were for, unfortunately for him ‘weapons’ wasn’t one of them. flynn was only 8 years old, but his fascination with breaking things astounded y/n and pretty much everyone else he met.

“no one cares about that, where is the laptop.” kai shouted back from the other room, not seeming to notice y/n struggling to hold onto the boxes in her arms. knowing she wasn’t going to get any help from anyone in her household, she continued to struggle alone, making sure to avoid her youngest brother fletcher that was running around the apartment like some play area.

“will you two shut up, i’m trying to listen,” and finally there was phoenix, who was holding his phone tightly against his ear as he wandered around the apartment trying to find some sort of signal. y/n dropped the boxes next to the other ones that were beginning to fill up the living room.

“wow, y/n, thank you so much for bringing in all ours things and for paying for this place,” y/n mocked in a deep voice, in what she had deemed her ‘angsty brother’ voice, despite sounding like an idiot. “no problem guys.” she smiled sarcastically, patting flynn on the head as he let out a groan of annoyance, not having taken in a word his sister had said.

y/n was only 18 and yet she had spent the last 6 months of her life in court to get custody of her brothers in order to get them out of foster care. her parents were who knows where, on whatever drug they could find, while drinking whatever they could get their hands on. she knew that she had saved the boys through a life of pain, that she had not had when she was their age, but she would have appreciated a thank you every once in a while.

“so what’s for dinner?” kai called out, finding the laptop that all five of them had to share and had been sharing for the last few years. his body slouched against the couch, eyes not raising to meet his sister’s.

“dude, it’s three o’clock.” she snorted, she had learnt over the years of taking care of her brothers that they seemed to always be hungry, no matter the hour. yet still it amazed her. kai shrugged, the sound of his fingers tapping against the keys echoing throughout the bare apartment. “i guess we could get a pizza tonight, i still have the tips from friday.” she scronged around helplessly.

“pizza!” fletcher yelled as he ran back into the living room and into the arms of his sister, who picked him up with ease. the look of pure happiness on his face, reminded y/n exactly what made her moneyless, tiresome work worth it.

“you know, sometimes i’m sure you are the only one that loves me.” she grinned, as fletch wrapped his small arms around her and squeezed her softly. however the mood came crashing down when she heard a loud crash coming from one of the bedrooms.

“found it!” flynn yelled, as he appeared with the stupid baseball bat that y/n was sure she had thrown out and a wide smile on his face.

the knock on the door came just in time. y/n was busy unpacking her room, having completed everyone elses and the other rooms. her stomach was making sounds that had she been in public would have made her embarrassed.

“i’ve got it!” she yelled, but when she ran out the room no one had even made an effort to peel themselves away from the tv that was playing a rerun of friends. y/n grabbed her purse and pulled open the door. “it’s 15 bucks, right?” she asked, holding the money out, only to find as her eyes rose the three strangers at her door were certainly not the pizza delivery guy.

“ugh, sorry to bother you,” y/n could feel the apple of her cheeks burn as she met the coffee coloured eyes of the tall man that made her feel like she was 2 foot tall. “my name’s kevin atwater i live next door and this is my brother jordan and my sister vinessa- i’m sorry are we interrupting.” the man spoke, a small warm smile pulling on his lips as he looked over the woman’s face. he had been brought up properly, his desire to check her out was pushed down and he kept the friendly smile on his face.

“no, no, of course not,” y/n rambled, turning to look behind her at the four boys that were brainwashed by the small box that rested on an old tv stand. debating what to do she quickly moved out of the way of the door and gestured for them to enter. “come on in, let me introduce you to the boys. i’m y/n y/l/n, it’s nice to meet you guys.”

y/n had only had a couple of friends in her life, when you move from foster home to foster home it was hard to keep in contact. but this was a fresh start, it had to be and it was being offered to her on a silver platter.

“kevin, vinessa, jordan these are my brothers, malakai, phoenix, flynnigan and fletcher.” she introduced, making sure she gave the boys a sharp glare to behaviour while they had guests over. “guys, these are our neighbours, be nice.” she made sure she was looking at flynn who was holding onto his baseball bat like some deranged lunatic, but he flashed his most innocent smile as he looked to their guests.

“how’s it going, dude.” kai was the first one to speak up. standing from his position to shake kevin’s hand. then came flynn who completely ignored kevin as he nodded his head at jordan, who was around the same age as the boy.

“you like breaking things?” he asked, catching kevin and jordan by surprise as y/n quickly pulled flynn away from the boy and towards him.

“he’s joking.” he was not joking, but flynn happily returned to the sofa. y/n soon noticed that they were just standing awkwardly in their living room, knowing that she should probably play host, she pointed towards the kitchen. “you guys want a drink or something?”

“sure.” kevin smiled, his eyes following her as she excused herself and left the room. y/n didn’t like this whole host role, let alone for a 6 foot something god that was getting a first hand look into what a nutcase family he was living next to. the last thing she needed nor wanted was someone calling in CPS and taking them off her again. “uh, i was just wondering if you guys wanted some help.” y/n nearly dropped the cans in her hand, as she turned to face the man that didn’t mean to cause any hand.

“yeah, thanks.” she smiled, steadying her heartbeat for no more than a second before he took a few steps closer and it was off beating again. she couldn’t help it, she had not been with anyone in nearly 7 months. with the stress of the custody and the time taken to work, she didn’t really have time for a sex life. so one look at the man had her palms sweating like a creep.

“so where did you move from?” kevin asked. small talk, i can do small talk, y/n thought as she looked at kevin who was helping to find enough cups for everyone in the apartment.

“uh we were actually a few blocks over in the south.” she replied, not wanting to tell him the entire story, after all they had met moments ago. kevin hummed, noticing the way her shoulders tensed. anxiety was radiating off her, but he found it cute. “you always lived here?”

“yeah, pretty much,” the silence resumed and y/n didn’t know what else to say. maybe small talk wasn’t her thing. who was she kidding, she was killing this conversation and not in a good way. thankfully it was cut short as there was yet another knock on the door. y/n cursed, trying to put down the cups she had balanced in her hands, but kevin placed his hand upon her shoulder, stopping her. “i got it.” he offered, walking away and towards the front door.

y/n could feel her skin tingling, but she shook it off as she followed kevin out of the room.

“thanks, bro.” kevin called out before the door slammed shut. y/n put the drinks onto the coffee table, making sure that kevin’s siblings got first dibs before the boys got their hands on them. kevin appeared the his hands holding the rest of the cups and the pizza. “here you go, we should probably get going and let you guys eat-.”

“stay,” y/n said all too quickly, causing all eyes to look her way. realising she sounded way to desperate, her eyes widened as she tried to fix her words. “i mean why don’t you guys join us for dinner, i’m sure the boys don’t mind sharing, right guys?” she looked at her brothers who didn’t look impressed, but one stern look and they were all nodding.

“of course.” they cheered in unison. kevin placed the box on the table, and looked towards his own siblings that seemed to be eyeing up the pizza just a little too much to say no.

“that sounds great.” kevin smiled, admiring kind eyes that seemed to warm his body to an unusual heat. y/n’s body began to relax as she walked over and grabbed her own slice, knowing that when being surrounded by brothers it was always best to dive in before it all disappeared.

as time went on, y/n began to learn more about kevin and his family. the kids were playing some kind of game in another room, whilst y/n and kevin were sat on the sofa trying to get to know each other. a very tired fletcher asleep in y/n’s arms as she rocked him slowly.

“wait so you are a cop?” she asked astounded, she had never met a real life cop. in fact she had been raised to run away from them. when one showed up at her door it was either to bring back her pissed parents or to remove her and her brothers from the home. nothing good came out of the police, until now anyways.

“training to be one, yes. i’m only 19.” he chuckled, taking a short sip on the beer they had found in y/n’s fridge.

“don’t tell flynn that, he will most likely try and steal your gun or ask you questions that no 8 year old should ask.” she giggled, her brother had seen more than most which left him asking questions that received concerned but mostly confused looks. she called him their little psychopath, but underneath all that he was her little teddy bear that she had literally taken care of for all his life.

“i’ll be keeping my eye out for him, don’t worry.” he promised and he meant it. the pair were both legal guardians of their siblings while they were still teenagers themselves, they had to look out for one another, they were the only ones that understood. “what about you, what do you do?”

“i’m a waitress until 1 and then i work at the bowling alley until 7 after that i serve cocktails to rich white collars at the bar in the city.” she explained, even the explanation made her take a long and painful sip of her beer. the exhaustion had never been so agonising in her life. trying to juggle looking after her family and providing for them proved to be much more difficult than first thought, but they were family, she couldn’t give up on them.

“holy shit,” kevin breathed out, noticing the way her eyes saddened into a darker colour. a shadow of tears rising in her eyes, but quickly disappearing as she reminded herself that she didn’t have time to cry. she was the strong one. “okay then, what do you want to be doing? if you could be anything in this world what would you be?” he asked, bringing a smile out onto her face.

“i want to be a nurse,” she smiled, completely zoning out of their conversation. “i want to help people, i want to care for people, i mean i have been doing it for my entire life why not make money from it?” she giggled, as she was brought out of her trance by someone placing their hand on her’s. her eyes found themselves locked on kevin’s.

“nurse y/n, huh?” kevin smiled, lightening the mood. however as he did, the small child in the arms of his sister seemed to stir. y/n excused herself, as she stood up and walked in the direction of fletcher’s room. just as she did, the door to the room the kids were in swung open revealing a very intrigued flynn.

“hey, can i talk to you for a second?” kevin nearly missed the fact that the child was indeed talking to him. looking around and realising no one else was in the room he nodded, patting the space besides him which flynn soon took. “i think my sister likes you, dude.” flynn spoke, not even a hint of guilt in his voice as he looked towards the man that the family had literally known for a total of three hours and a half. kevin tried to hide his smile as he nodded.

“i like your sister, she’s a nice girl.”

“i don’t think you get what i’m trying to say,” for an 8 year old, he really didn’t take any shit. his look was stern as he kept his eye contact with kevin strong, only making the small child look 10 times more intimidating. “you can’t do that thing that mom and dad always do, or what harvey did, or jacob or callum. y/n needs someone that loves her and stands by her, because y/n takes care of everyone but no one takes care of y/n.” kevin could feel his chest ache as the words came out of the boy’s mouth, the hard look in his eyes softening revealing the small child that was hidden beneath the gore loving child.

“she’s a good person, huh.” he gestured towards the woman who could just be seen through the crack in the door tucking in fletcher and kissing his head softly. her hands gripping some book and the words falling off her tongue softly. both flynn and kevin sharing the same small smile.

“the best.” flynn confirmed, before patting him on the back and returning to the room. for a moment, kevin had to figure out if he had just imagined that conversation. the 8 year old spoke like a teenager, making it hard to believe that he was so young.

kevin had no desire to break his vow he had made that night and he never did.

---

present

“you know i miss the days i could actually fit into my clothes,” y/n sighed as she leaned back in the office chair looking over to hailey, who let out a giggle. hailey was the only member of the unit that y/n had found in the office, and just so happened to be her best friend. y/n’s hand rested on her rather large stomach that only kept growing, even at 8 months.

“and yet you look stunning, how do you do it?” haley asked, making y/n scoff. she looked a hot mess. she had been on maternity leave for far too long in an apartment alone until someone came home. she had been still working as a nurse until kevin convinced her that it was time to take some time off, which left her showing up the office more and more just so she could tell herself that she had done something somewhat interesting with her day.

“give it a month i will have stains i won’t be able to identify down every item of clothing and hair that i haven’t washed in weeks because i spend all my freetime sleeping.” she recalled the times she was younger and had spent sleepless nights trying to sooth fletch and flynn when they were babies. she had gone to school with far too many vomit stain to count, which only motivated the bitchy girls to point it out daily.

the sound of footsteps hitting the stairs made both of the women turning around. an immediate smile taking over y/n’s face when she noticed the tall man that shared the same grin on his face. his eyes a wild mix of excitement and affection as he quickened his pace to embrace the woman that just managed to push herself off the chair.

“hey, baby,” he greeted, pressing his lips against her’s, before he placed his hand on the bump. “what’s up little man?” he grinned, as the baby began to kick against his touch. kevin was very proud of the fact that he had the effect on the little baby.

“you never know he could be a she.” she argued back, remembering that they had specifically decided not to know the gender of the baby. kevin rolled his eyes jokingly, as he gave her an incredulous look.

“you have 4 brothers, your dad had 10 and your grandfather had 8 and you are seriously trying to tell me that the baby could be a girl.” kevin snorted, earning a light thwack from the woman that he had loved for the past decade. her eyes full of the same light as the day they had met, but y/n no longer kept her burdons locked up. she wasn’t alone anymore, she would never be alone again.

“smart a-.” she tried to speak but a sudden pain raked through her body like a wave. her hand gripped onto kevin’s as she shut her eyes, keeping her breathing calm. “holy shit.” she breathed out, catching the attention of the whole unit.

“what the- what’s happening?” kevin stuttered, watching his wife in so much pain made his heart hurt. but the not knowing made everything ten times worse. hailey walked up behind him, her hand placed on the shoulder of her best friend, as her eyes flickered to the floor. “what is it?”

“i think the baby’s coming.” y/n and hailey spoke in unison, making the soon to be father gasp for air. adam and jay were the first to react, patting kevin on the back congratulating him while hailey ran around looking for her keys.

“i’m gonna be a dad,” kevin muttered slowly, as if the last 8 months and 2 weeks had failed to indicate such a thing. “i’m gonna be a dad!” he began to get more excited until he noticed y/n still slouched over in pain, hailey rubbing her back slowly talking her through it. “oh shit, i should probably do something, what should i do?” no one had seen kevin so jittery, his eyes flicking from each person in the room before hailey chucked him the keys.

“we should probably start with the hospital, big guy.”

“oh yeah, right.” kevin agreed, taking over rubbing y/n’s back as he helped guide her down the stairs and out of the district. hailey and jay following along, ready to welcome their soon to be god child to the world. “let’s go have a baby.” kevin sang, as y/n looked up with a painful smile.

“i love you, you know.”

“i love you more.”

after hours and hours of kevin nervously rambling about how excited and nervous he was and hours and hours of y/n telling kevin to shut up. y/n finally began to question how her mother had gone through such a pain 5 times, however when she got to held the small child in the her arms any pain and discomfort was washed away.

“is it safe to come in?” y/n had nearly fallen to sleep when she heard the soft voice call into the room. her eyes flickered over to the door and a large smile pulled across her face and kevin’s when they noticed the familiar faces. fletcher, kai, phoenix, vinessa and jordan all stood in the door way. vinessa was clutching a balloon, while the boys were all holding onto some kind of gift for the baby.

“is the rumour true?” kai asked, as their eyes flicked over to the small baby that was resting on y/n’s chest. y/n snorted, her eyes meeting kevin who was still high up on cloud nine despite having been in the same room for the last 30 hours.

“meet evelyn vinessa atwater,” she grinned, her fingers tracing over the small boned human that she was now responsible for along with her husband. she made sure she was looking at vinessa who seemed more than stoked to be part of her niece’s name, being the first one to take steps forward to get a closer look. y/n picked up the baby and passed her over to her aunt, smiling as she noticed the love already in vinessa’s eyes.

“we have someone else that you might want to see,” kai called catching her attention as she noticed the laptop being placed on her lap. her eyes widening as she noticed the black screen morph into the face of someone she missed.

“i heard i have i officially been named the cool uncle,” y/n let out a soft sob as for the first time in the last year she saw the face of her brother. his body clothed out in camouflage print and a badge sewn into the material clearly reading ‘US ARMY’. “hey, big sis.” he greeted her. flynn had enlisted to join the army the moment he graduated from high school, much to the dismay of his sister.

it wasn’t that y/n wasn’t proud of her brother. if you had asked her 10 years ago what she thought her brother would be doing, the army would not have even passed her mind. but she knew that she couldn’t protect him when he was out in the middle east fighting for their country.

“hate to tell you, dude, but that title has already been claimed.” phoenix challenged, as he appeared besides y/n with baby evelyn in his arms. flynn didn’t hesitate to flip his older brother off, who seemed to just laugh it off.

“you doing alright out there?” y/n asked, pushing herself up slightly but hissing at the pain that lingered throughout her body. it seemed pushing a living creature out of your body wasn’t as easy as the movies made it look. her eye’s were slightly weeping as she looked at her brother who was not the same boy that she had diapered, he was a full fledged man now. she couldn’t have been prouder.

“i will be when i get home and can teach my niece how to annoy her dad.” at the mention of him, kevin appeared in front of the camera, giving his brother in law a long stare that caused the whole room to crack up. “you know i expect the next kid to be named after me, flynnigan junior sounds cool, right?” kevin and y/n looked at each other with wide eyes, mentally telling each other that that was one of the worst ideas they had heard. hearing her brother chuckle over the line, she felt 18 again. “listen i have to go, but i will call again i promise.” y/n didn’t want to say goodbye, but she knew she had to.

“love you.” she smiled, a couple tears trickling down her face.

“love you too.” and just like that the call ended and y/n was met with her reflection. closing the laptop, she noticed that the only one’s in the room were her, kev and evelyn. looking towards kevin she didn’t have to say much, as her eyes said it all. her fingers reaching out to her daughter’s, that effortly wrapped around one.

“thank you,” y/n blurted out, looking up at kevin with nothing but love. “i don’t think i ever said thank you for saving my life all those years ago. i didn’t know it till later, but you pulled me out of the deep end before i even knew i was drowning. you changed my life, kevin atwater.”

“i love you, mrs atwater.”

“i love you too.”

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concretenostalgia-blog · 7 years

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Concept of a Hero

Hero- n. a man of exceptional quality who wins admiration by noble deeds, esp. deeds of courage.

Another one? A feeling of perpetual dismay? Held tender with a whisk of silence veiled over and over, as a scarf around neck and face, over and over veiled with no sight to end. Yet it is comfort, and stability, and plumpness. Two images, shadows, silhouettes of men eager to be alone, a mirage splattered before blood as well as after love. If you look so close you can taste the hidden songs carved between the lines of brushstrokes. One would call that a masterpiece. And there goes a hidden stance, now revealed, the push of heroes past and present state of decay with no new light, or is there new light? Bastardized, jeopardized, leopardized, alone and in a difficult situation while still on the hunt. The hunt for what? The search for what? The make way for what? The stand so tall head hits the clouded ceiling for what? FOCUS. I’m on a ramble again and nothing at all makes sense, pushed forward and now cut-off I’m working on leaving this train behind. Rip and roar into civilization, those fuckers have no degree of belief or saturation of color and people and others and heroes and decades where the same story is told forever a seasoned veteran of the America, go ramble onward, go touching walls wherever you slide, go young one, go on loose ends. Frayed and whipping into that shallow night, heartstrings detached collide survive another day long lost and now remembered until you yourself shall perish, a song leaning on the end of it all, whistled and hummed by lips of saviors and villains, both reconciled after the globe spins us into particles vacuumed through this concept of time multiplied by space.

What would you call a hero? The dead man in gutter? Spent another day alone again and thought about it, thought about myself, thought about this America and what has changed forever now sudden incomplete. Put away your cape, I’ve seen it all and have felt it already and this will end again in despair comatose teeth smacking frosted air and now lies when making noise the lifting of human spirits, what a need, what a drag on us called society, pushing carts full aluminum cans out trash cans gotta make the money hunny, gotta say something I guess.

And to experience this slide downward, a total confusion, loss of belief and haze is clearing up yet not wanting to know or realize the truth. All these people surprised at these actions this regime has attempted and, to a small degree, has succeeded in doing to us. People are shocked at this absurdity. I don’t understand how people are shocked or in slight disbelief at anything that has happened. It’s obvious the momentum was in that favor, it’s obvious that these fucks are vile and terrible and soulless puppets who will shove their regimental, slave-like, self-glorifying rituals down this stupefied and partially timid (mainly frozen out of pure shock from absurdity) America in their personal quest for the insignificant power they grasp on to as though they are the baby hungry for mother’s breast comfort. Those grotesque swine, lolled up in their own mudded pins, snorting around their collective white-nationalistic agenda, there to do thy bidding of their masters.

Villains, every hero needs at least one. The enemy of good and justice and righteousness. Such a confusing topic, so many facets to search through and digest and consume and explore and explain and touch on and argue about with thy self, with you too and humanity waiting on the sofa for the next movie summer blockbuster it has to be, man, or else what? The reality of the absence of heroes or even a hero to help combat evil ideas of inhumane philosophies has attracted the rise of pretend heroes, ones who do battle on the big screens. Something more too, something more too, something more to this experience and this struggle, the concept of heroes is as old as the written word, is as old as the spoken tribal songs, is as old as humankind.

Right now I am scared of myself again, and the totality of insanity I find while browsing the lesser known regions I have left to dry out. The emotions to save people, the love of having another human enjoy life and see life as beauty, just as I do almost every day. I am fearful of diving back into that place again, a drag on the spirit, last time I spiraled into it and was on the brink of death, not physical, but a loss of my human soul. And I wondered who could help save me, if not myself for at that time I was too weak to carry even a breath of fresh air. What saved my existence was what always saves my existence, writing and a love for simple moments spent with wonderful people out in silliness and exiting moments of deranged depression at least temporarily. And is what happened heroic? Just a talk and a hug or so and an exhilaration to be alive?

I went to her months later and stated how I thought and felt, love is bold and love is true. I do not consider that a heroic deed, either. I’m no hero, I’m just a broke poet, although sometimes I feel as though I save people, and I hope I do. Yet again, I’m no hero that is not my goal. To give a nod to a homeless man, letting him know that I see him and that he does still exist, that’s not heroic. That’s a simple human act of bonding, of unity. Treating another human as a human being.

Complex, this world is, as well as is not, I don’t use the term hero. That’s a lie, because I do. This wound is opened and will not close until the blood clots and dries and skin grows back beneath it, leaving behind a documentation, a history of that event which shaped the person forever forward.

I have heroes, people I aspire to, people I look up to and work towards and I am inspired by. And some of them have helped save my life, although they don’t know it and not necessarily on a personal face to face level but through their art or actions or ideas or thoughts or anything that I somehow was able to interact with at the much needed point in my petty existence, helped me keep this train rolling and loving life more and more and more and forever hopefully forever, only can dream of resting with my head in her arms while I listen to her sing or watch her paint and giggle all silly goofnik with a smirk in her eyes and brown hair and I am weak now again, alone as I want it to be, sitting crosslegged through the vacant Saturday night spitting out meaningless philosophies as only a psychotic human being would do. These are pointless hopes, these are stupid insignificant ideas, and yet these just might help people somehow. I don’t see this as heroic. To don the cape, carry the world on these battered shoulders, lift you Atlas, lift and do not shrug off the pain and toil.

I think it’s this ego getting in the way again, cut it off, get out of me, stay the fuck away and quit rocking on the door with your knuckles bloody no bandage I’m ignoring you la-la-la you don’t exist and the world outside is bitter and I’m bitter and I am wrapping myself up in thin air, excuse me, the madman who thinks he is a hero or a savior or a something that people need, I told you it is the ego getting in the way always in the fucking way, wanting to crowd and attention and needy, this is going nowhere.

The want to see the world delivered and fed a good meal tonight and every night, so much to ask for, the modern hero would die from stress put on them from the issues crowding the world. No matter, these sounds vibrating through walls are something else, reminding me of a story from a song. A man is listening through the walls in his apartment, listening to a couple arguing because the man has to leave his love and she doesn’t want him to go even though she knows he has to, so they embrace and part ways. And as I said, the man listening to this just listens.

I am just listening. The gas station lights are humming and people are hollowed by it all. I see it in their eyes. The two ladies behind the counter are not the least bit attractive although they are nice, I’m with my friend and I go to the bathroom and come out and they are chatting it up with him and he is being nice back and they chat with me and I’m nice back as well but we get our stuff and go after a bit of conversing and in the car he pulls out a piece of paper with a name and number on it that one of the ladies behind the counter gave to him saying, “call me sometime, we can do something with her too” referring to the other lady working behind the counter with her and I say something along the lines of that’s funny that you got a number did you tell them you’re married? And he replied to this, “No, I don’t wanna tell them that. They wanna be happy, I don’t wanna ruin their thought of happiness, everyone deserves to feel happy.”

The simple act of allowing these two unattractive to feel some worth because a guy who they thought was attractive didn’t turn them down, giving them a taste of something better than the life they are stuck in, that showed me humanity. To bring life into people’s eyes again, if only for a second or minute or night or week, is that heroic? To help save people from a damaged life, a reprieve, a hope for a trickle of anything better. I listened, and I learned.

Today was dead. A life was saved. A life hath fade away. The classical hero is one of physical prime, highly attractive, and either superhuman or able to complete tasks that would be near impossible for the regular human being, Achilles and Hercules and the like. Yet those heroes are totally different than today’s heroes, or real ones, that “shaped history”. What the fuck am I kidding, these are all the same. Larger than your life entities which come and swoop in to save the day or fix issues too big for feeble mankind to work.

Or at least it feels that way, to some degree. Keep it vague, keep it out of reach. The hero of old is the current hero, the one losing mind on kitchen floor spitting all over self and lips and beard, losing control over the absurdity of human existence. The one showing truth, speaking truth, living truth as much as humanly possible. True heroes are fucking up all the time. They scamper through doorways and into people’s lives while dancing in front of coffee tables, entertaining and enlightening those of us who allow the couch to surround our spirits and bodies. Bleed for me, dancing monkey, bleeeeeed for meeeeeee. For MEEEEEEEEEE. The vast outlook of this America today has the wrong idea. Keep it simple, stupid. You look around you, quit being a self-diagnosed victim of society, we are all victims of the machine. Do not wait for a hero to come forth. Be the hero, when you can, when it is your turn.

Heroism, an idea as malleable as nature, taking time to shape and evolve. It is a concept that rises in the most unusual places, and most cases only shows itself in an instant, then retreats into the mysteries of the human psyche, lying dormant until death or the rare occurrence of another moment to act. And there is no playing hero. There is being heroic, and there is not. I get caught up in thinking I’m being a hero, I’m stupid, I’m insignificant, remember that don’t forget, I get caught up in somewhat playing the hero or trying to have that role thrust upon myself, it is my fucking ego and desire to help people driving that narrative into my own skull. And with that I am wrong. I am no hero. It is something I must remind myself often, which I have no obligation to use my life and energy and spirit to go out and save everyone all the time. Use this what I tell you to help yourself understand your actions and thoughts and motives for both. It is useless and a drag to go and play a role you are not all the time, you’ll lose yourself and end up driving towards the cliff of an eternal void, cast off into a blackened sea of raging oblivion. It is serene, and naïve, silent and I mean silent as though you have never heard any sort of noise silent as though you cannot even hear your own voice speaking to you in your thoughts, just delirium, the absence of understanding, becoming the animals we once were millennia ago, that beast is down far into the interior of our noggins, a perplexed and frightened animal, distraught and whimpering with a desire to feel love and comfort and to have a place in this world to call a home, to know where it is at all times and to be aware of nothing but what is around physically, a coma where the dream is reality and our bodies are make-believe this cage door is unlocked is decidedly unbolted and now tongue tastes moist air with a lapping for a full lung. Hanging head, passerby’s footprints, no cardboard to tell your story for the day hoping fortune will come your way and all the weak knees from fear escalating the humming vibrations carried through concrete, give way to sunflower blooming, cracked this human is cracked and eyes are widened, whippings give the whippings calm it down, calm it down.

It is felt along the vertebrae. Lumped, muck, sludge making tracks on the way down gravity lunging with ordained pressure, now soft kisses scoop human disaster and settle with misery on the banks of the Ohio River. I want you to understand hysteria, the mental captivity which keeps us from experiencing it. Push all personal energy to the edge, do it, do not fear it, keep only a fingertip with the tip of one line of fingerprint ridge attached, then know how to reel it all back into body and come to in a new understanding of thy Self, thy human existence, thy heroics and of deeds not worthy of documentation. It is the splintering of insanity which allows a human to explore sanity, many things are or can be a catalyst, physical action and drugs and captivity and pushing mental process to the limits and chasing an idea towards the end that end, the one not in sight but you know is still out there and hasn’t been found except by those who have taken an oath of secrecy with permanent lips sealed and blood spilt and body gone 6 feet under. Heroes. Every single one of them. For going into the unknown, bold and disastrous as it is. Disastrous to life and us who are still living.

Heroism is everywhere, in all forms, as grand as you believe it to be with Superman aspirations, as well as little as giving a starving mouse a crumb of cheese.

#writing #writers #hero #philosophy #beat #beat generation #poem #stream of consciousness

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