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The Way it Ought to be

SYNOPSIS: About a man who failed to properly live the life which had been granted to him, and the opportunity of new love that he so wished to have as his.

Light a candle to remember the fallen soul; the deceased wonder of us all;
the child of a deadly sacrifice that which is love eternal and infinite.

Such could, if I be lucky, be the words spoken on the morning of my passing
over an intrepid candle that burns most brightly in the hour of my death,
for failing terribly to properly live the life that had been given to me.
Although I wished to be not nobody, I failed to become a certain someone
and so I am forced to sit in the abyss of my soul whilst contemplating love,
as I stare into the eyes of the man who stares back into me from the mirror.
His expression fills me with sorrow as he forces me to remember the past;
such as it was the element that brought me to the place in time I am in now.
Perhaps if I had changed my actions, life would have become the way it ought to be.
But then again’ I think, as the face of the young woman that I love fills my mind,
maybe everything that happened, happened because fate had always wanted it to.
If such be the case, then fate it seems, is an insidiously twisted creature
for leaving my withered heart to die alone within the passages of this text.
The story behind how I came to feel this way happened during the last winter;
such being an event I remember so well for I relive it everyday.
I will paint the scene as it was for me; in colour; vibrant, fluorescent and true.
A party, it was, in a friend’s giant house, with music playing from dusk till dawn.
This friend of mine had just turned twenty-one, this party being a special occasion,
for nobody ever turns twenty-one twice, thus, everyone had been invited.
The house itself was two storeys in height, looming like a huge, pitch coloured monster.
The lights that were on were its facial extremities, making it look so alive;
if one judged the party on its exterior they would have been terribly wrong;
music was passable, food was delightful and the alcohol kept on coming.
The lights were turned up to their highest extent illuminating all of the house.
The walls were constructed from the thickest plaster, yet they rocked to the beat like leaves.
The luxurious furniture looked so eccentric, whilst someone puked up their guts.
The people present danced to the groove, dreaming of getting into each other’s pants;
and as all of this transpired I looked towards the tower of erected gifts
and just as my eyes came to land on my present, they began to drift towards you.
You were leaning up against the far wall with shadows dancing across your features.
One boot covered foot was against the wall, whilst the other was placed upon the floor.
You wore tight blue jeans that were glued upon your magnificently formed body.
Above the waist you wore a light brown, formalised jacket, with buttons down the front.
Beneath this was a feministic shirt that was an aqua and pink in colour.
Your jet black hair was curly in appearance and tied back in a crimson scrunchie.
In one hand you held a piece of literature, whilst in the other a beverage.
I would go on to describe the beauty of your face but I could not find the words,
for there are no words in any known language to describe someone as beautiful;
those, bright dark brown eyes; those luscious crimson lips; that incredible, heartwarming smile.
I realised then I need you, the same way I need oxygen, food and water
and I know from now on my thoughts when I masturbate will consist only of you.
I wish to love you the way Achilles loved the battle and how he loved the sword;
the way Marc Anthony loved Cleopatra, or the way King Midas loved his gold.
It is now in this story that I proceeded to make my way over to you.
I wonder, how you would react knowing your beauty has captured a man like me,
and as I undress your ravishingly fabulous body with my dark brown eyes,
I know I should be put to death for the heavily sexualised thoughts that I have.
It is now that I go to speak, but I unfortunately fail to find the words.
You look up at me and seem almost annoyed; you don’t want another pick-up line;
but the unfortunate thing for you is, you’re about to receive one anyway.
You roll your eyes and stand aggressively before eventually asking my name;
I say you won’t ever require it, for you have everything you’ll ever need.
From now until your body is but dust and your life’s all but a sweet memory;
until forever is no longer forever you will not need to know my name.
Besides, what is a name, even my own, when you don’t have the man to give it to?
This is why my silence is so bitter sweet, for together, we will never be.
With that being said you gently tilt your head and wonder what question you should cite next.
You ask ‘where are your feelings, where do they reside, where do they shine the brightest?’,
and I say ‘they are where the sun does not see and where the moon cannot penetrate’,
for I’m the pariah; the interloper; the worst of all the world’s pretenders.
This is the excuse I wish to give for trying to grab your heart and soul with lies,
for inevitably, such is the later conclusion I will be forced to write.
Never in my life have I been captured by a beauty that I could not have;
but such a woe it is to find that such has unfortunately occurred
and I am been played love’s romantic fool the same way a musician plays the drum.
But even as all of these words, thoughts and ideas are, all of them, but said and done,
I would very much like to get to know you until we are not strangers no more.
I’ve never felt this way for anyone or anything in the entire world;
for you’re everywhere inside of me; you are in my air; my bones; my heart; my blood.
However, as sudden as your heart struck me down with such a force, light lightning,
more sudden was it when another man came up to you and stole your heart away.
He asked you then, with his truly, romantic words, if he could mould your heart a-new.
You looked to have been swooned with joy; captured in the oceans of an age old romance.
He took your lusciously silky hand in his, just as you took his damn hand in yours,
emotions flaring uncontrollably as you stared into each other’s eyes,
being fueled by a powerful passion that made me swoon in the most horrific way;
and with this, he whisked you away, to make love to you the way the Gods intended
and now, every time I see you, you break me, for I wish to be more than friends.
You have made the heroic lion living inside my soul weep a thousand tears;
you pulled out my heart, raised it towards the Heavens and lost it in the black of night
and now I am forced to carry your memory, that is; unforgotten.
Because of you, I have so many scars that cover what this man once used to be.
I have a scar upon my broken heart; a scar that fails to ever go away;
a scar that is in fact a plague, insidiously caused by this ravaged romance.
If you were to come back to these arms once more I would never – and I must stress this,
if you would please come back to these arms once more, I would never be broken again.


SYNOPSIS: Outline, of what one can only hope to be the start of a beautiful romance. May contain a sexual reference or two.

Drum roll please. A beautiful woman sits there at the bar, like she often does, drinking an ice cool margarita.
I say to my friend ‘do you dare, do you dare, do you dare go talk to that beautiful, light brown skinned signorina?’
He dares, yes he dares do that which so many people believe cannot be done. He dares, yes he dares to do the unthinkable,
and go talk to that lady, yes, that lady, you know the one, who is in every possible way beyond this world beautiful.
He stammers, he stutters, he looks like a fool, before he finds his perfect line; the one that gets ‘em every time,
but not this time, I however fear, for she ain’t the kind of gal to be captured by a mesmerising rhyme.
‘Yeah, yeah, yeah, that’s what they all say. Yeah, yeah, yeah, screw you buddy, I ain’t that kind of girl, no I am not, it’s just hearsay.
Don’t believe everything you hear’ she explains, ‘don’t do nothing stupid, don’t do nothing that’s gonna piss me off today,
cuz if I need a man, I need a gentleman, and he had better be the kind of man I can settle down with and live beside,
cuz I’ve lost a lot in my past lives. I’ve lost friends, I’ve lost family, and the one thing I can’t afford to lose no more is my pride.’

Damn! My boy has been shot down in flames; he’s burnin’ in the centre of the bar. His head, it is just so red, I don’t think he’s comin’ back from that one. Whoa! What a bust,
but I have to say, if that beautiful lady cannot be won over by his flattery and by his words then I’ve certainly gotta have her, oh yes I must,
for there is more to her than meets the eye. I’ve a craving for someone like her, someone whose description defies the realms of Heaven, Hell and Earth;
someone who was destined to be the Queen of Aces, to be every little thing that she could ever truly be from the moment of her birth.
‘Is it so wrong?’ I enquire aloud, ‘to think and to dream, of this fabulous, tattooed blue eyed black girl?
Is it wrong, to want to take her, and give to her everything, yes, everything, including the whole wide world’,
for this young lady, she is so much like the sun, an ultra violet, that she is just so colourful. Cuz of this, she defies all meaning of black and white,
and my feelings for her they begin to show, and in doing, become so wild, so vivid and so passionate, I fear they could instantaneously ignite
and in all the countries of the world we reside upon there would not be any kind of extinguisher
that could ever put out this beating heart of mine as it burns for her, and only her, its blazing fire.

Looking at her I shall admit never have I laid my eyes on such a splendid sight, never have I felt so good,
not even when I was living back in my mother country, residing in the comfort of my own neighborhood
did I ever feel this way. I remember looking at all of the beautiful women, back in Australia,
and not one of them ever made me feel the way this young lady does, this young lady who lives in America.
It is almost quite funny, for this world seems to no longer be on the right side up, for shouldn’t I love an Australian? Apparently, not in the world of upside down,
where found is always inexplicably lost, and lost is always remarkably found. Where depressed frowns are frequently terrific smiles, and terrific smiles are great depressed frowns,
for this young lady, this national icon, she is the view I have come to love, the view I love the most,
the view I will very easily come to cherish forever and ever on the entire east coast.
However, the world has a way of making even the most splendid of occurrences turn sour. Once men, women and children, now, all but monsters.
This is the unfortunate fate of all who have and had once, and are to have, experienced a lifetime of love, enjoyment, family and laughter.

I feel sorry for those souls, and feel solace for the woman before me as she says ‘be not only but the bastard who did me wrong,
but the young man, the one of whom I dream will one day discover me, my one and only, who would do me right with his righteous love song.’
‘I ain’t certain I can give you that’ I say, ‘I ain’t gonna try to be nothing I am not, for I ain’t perfect, of that I am sure,
but I fear I have become a taxing riddle in a poem that no one in their right mind wishes to bear witness to anymore.
In your eyes however I long for my redemption, and to grant to you a flawlessly sounding orchestra
that is to be my voice, talking from my heart as it beats eternally for you, wishing to be your lover.
So young lady, if you would please just listen to my voice, you might just hear my rhyme,
whilst I explain my soul intention on how I will love you for the rest of time.’
For as I stand next to her, I feel just so honored, I feel just so blessed. I can hear myself beside myself,
and I cannot wait to give to her all my love forever which is comparative to all of this world’s wealth.

‘So if you leave, wait up for me girl, because walking behind you I am, and more importantly, here I come.
I will have you know, I am loved by certain people, whilst on the other hand I may indeed be loathed by some.’
This however is but the nature of the game. ‘Think of me only as a man with several masks – one looks just so happy, the other, not so much,
but in the end I am nothing more than but a boy, pathetically little, foolish, terrified even, who is cursed with an insatiable crush.’
‘Don’t look at me with those glass eyes’ she says, with a great glass of bourbon in her hand. ‘This ain’t the time or place.
On top of this, that moustache, it ain’t foolin’ no one, so get it off, please get it off, get if off your face!
You needn’t ever look to me for permission, for guidance, for no such thing, for I ain’t your mother
fu-, I ain’t your flesh and blood sister, your great aunt, your high priestess, your biblical queen or your lover,
so please sir, leave me alone, for this ain’t the time for fun and foreplay, cuz I ain’t comin’ home with you tonight’
and I say, ‘I don’t need foreplay, I just need to be with you’ and then I ask, ‘is this honestly alright?’

‘If you want some action’ she says, ‘you’d better put your hands onto your dick,
and find yourself a good porno website pronto and quickly double click
on the movie that gets your chest pumpin’ and heart racin’.’ ‘Like I said’ I begin, ‘I don’t need anything like that, and I can understand if this seems kinda strange.’
‘You do, do you?’ asks the young woman as I shrug my head. ‘Actually no’ I say, ‘but you have to admit, there is every opportunity something’s gonna change.
I would like to think that change came walking through those double doors to stand before you now, and that such a change might just be
this young man, because I know what my heart is saying, and it is tellin’ out loud for all to hear; ‘girl, you get to me.’
In turn, I can hear your heart, and it ain’t as hardened as you would gladly have others believe. True, you may feel tortured, from a life that to me is blind, but your heart longs for me to kiss your lips
and I long to do so too, and this intense feeling of unshakable lust does not wish to go away for it feels just as I do now that such would be the beginning of a onetime trip
of my life.’ To this you calmly reply, after taking a swig ‘please, don’t kiss me, I don’t think I could take another lover no more,
for my heart is still in excruciating agony from my last deserter, and my unforgiving soul is still quite very sore.

I truly doubt’ she continues, ‘that you have ever been burned.’ ‘Don’t presume to know me’ I reply in response, ‘for you would be wrong. I have in fact been burnt,
several times in fact, but that was not the lesson I was to learn. True love will come again for you, and so here I am, and that is the lesson to be leant.
I know what I do long for, and I know the difference between fake and truth, which means this has to be real,
for if the love pounding in my chest was not, such a romantic storyline would not be what I do feel
for you. It’s like, better than anything you have ever experienced, better than anything that I know. It’s like, more than what I long for, it’s like this;
an unforgotten romantic fairytale beyond your wildest dreams and that’s what I long to give to you when I provide from my lips to yours, our first kiss.’
I remember when I first saw her, several weeks ago. I thought she was looking at him, then I thought she was looking at them, but no, she was looking at me.
Was she really? That is a question I have always wondered, but it has not prevented my heart from concocting scenarios, believing it was meant to be.
It feels like it happened years ago, and at the same time yesterday. Back then, I felt, the moment I looked upon her luscious face, that I must have travelled into an illusion, into a world unseen,
for women as beautiful as her could never be real. It turns out that I was wrong, something I am proud to admit, and to this day, you still look like the woman I fell in love with; like a beauty queen.

The Gods gave me the option of choice. They allowed me to pick the woman who was to be the girl of my dreams,
and that girl I wished for, the same one I stand beside now I humbly admit is her, it always was it seems.
Like all of the others she was beautiful, she was smart, she was so funny and cute,
but she had something else that made all of these qualities so undeniably moot;
she had me wrapped around her slender wedding finger, like an exotic diamond ring,
another accessory I was; another piece of jewelry, a piece of bling-bling,
and just like that, she had me right from the start with her words, and her mesmerising blue eyes;
something that filled the empty void inside me for the first time with a marvelous surprise,
but the one quality she had that bested all of these, the one thing that matters when push comes to shove,
is her unflinching, unbreakable, unbelievable, forever faithful, unconditional love.