Wednesday, January 18, 2017

The Evening Series : VOL 5 (For Tom Neal)


I do love the pitter-patter of the rain tonight.  When there is a scent of moisture in the air, that is the time when I'm happy.  The dead bodies that lay throughout this house seem to me like it was from another time or even place.  What has been done has been done, and I can't cry over spilled milk.   I open the owner of this home's laptop and start writing in it.  I presume the authorities will read this in due time.  I may either check myself out or just leave the premise. 



Back to the rain.  Ever since I was a boy, I seem to feel great comfort in the storm.   The more it raged, and destroy, the more happiness came to my heart.   Even the leaks over my bed brought a sense of adventure to my life.   When I walk through an urban area, I often see a homeless person in a cardboard shelter, but you know that they are getting soaked.  I know what it's like to be wet and in a bed or sleeping area.   As a kid, I never wanted to fully wake-up, so the rain pitter-patter on my bed till it got soaked.  I just stayed in bed and counted the raindrops hitting my forehead. For some odd reason, I never got sick.   While walking I like looking at the wet streets reflecting the lights -it's like they are dancing on the pavement.   The sound of the rain is a beautiful piece of music.  Like millions of others, I feel like Gene Kelly in "Singing in the Rain."  I just want to dance till not only soaked but dead.   The end of time, the end of everything -it's blissful to be at that point. 

In a few days, there will be a new sheriff in the main house.  They're going to clean up Dodge and other towns.   Sadly, I won't be around much anymore.   Neither a lot of people.  No pun intended on the folks who lived in this home.   One thing I have notice is that it just takes only one incident to change everything.  You can plan.  Or you don't plan.  Still, just by having the stars set in a specific position can change one's presence, and I guess future as well.   One lesson I have learned is always to lock your door at night.  Even the most friendliest neighborhoods can have a tragedy take place.  It's always shocking.  I'm glad it's me that brought the news and not someone else.  

Well, I should mozy on.  It's getting late.  Don't want to bore the fans out there.  My hair is still wet from the rain.  Before I leave, I'll go to the bathroom and comb my hair into a sweet pompadour and then go into the night. 



- Tosh Berman
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