The Negative Creep: (My Writing Thread)

Flipping through pages of forgotten lore
Things can never be the way they were before
Come step over me
What do you see?

Nothing
Nothing
How can this be?
Why cant you tell me?
Tell me
What do you see?

Nothing
Nothing
Inside me
Nothing is inside me
I'm hollow on the inside
Nowhere to hide

Our innocence was tortured till it died
As we fell victim to incesticide

Sister
Tell me why
Tell me why this feels so right
There's nothing inside me
But I'm inside you
Looking down at me, you enjoy the view.

[Wrote this while on the road after meeting a girl who had sex with her bother.]

You cant escape your shadow
Something's wrong with your aura
You're on the floor and you cant stop trembling
Your shadow takes control and pulls your strings
Mocking you as you suffer through withdraws

The phantom limbs reach out to feel the Gaza strippers
Static is running through your body
Its useless to run
You give in!
You cannot escape your shadow
You give in!
It controls you
Contradicts you
Makes you bow down to the slumlords

Needles pierce you skin deep
Sanity begins to seep
Dark energies begin to creep
Use back magick spells to make young girls feel cheap!

You cannot escape your shadow!
You cannot escape your shadow!
You cannot escape your shadow because it's you!

Your phantom limb is stabbing whores
Closing doors
Giving young girls sores!

You cannot escape your shadow
You cannot escape because it's you!

When I was in high school I used to love stories about killers and dead bodies coming back to life. To
me, those were dark and brutal. But now that I'm grown I know that the most dark brutal, soul crushing
thing is my job. You see, I work in an office building. I sit alone in a soulless cubicle. Doing the most
mind numbing work known to mankind.
No job where you work in a cubicle is ever good. Its most likely a dead end job.
And a mundane existence. I used to have dreams back when I was in high school.
I was in a band that could have been something big! But my bitch father got drunk and ended up
braking my right hand. When it healed I found out that my band had already replaced me. I would have
joined another band but because of my hand I couldn't play my guitar the same way I used to. I tried to
sing for this one band but they kicked me out as soon as they got someone better. And after that I
looked all over my house for my guitar. But then my mom told me that my dad had sold it for beer
money.
But looking back at it, all of that didn't even matter.
Why? Because I was me! No matter how much bullshit happened to me.
I was me!
I dressed the way I wanted to. And I had my hair as long as I wanted it to be.
I was me!
Then high school was over and I had to get a job to support myself.
No one would hire me because of the way I looked.
So I had to get rid of the upside down cross around my neck. I had to stop wearing all black and cut my
hair short.
I had to become a fucking sheep of the work force.
And the worse part is that I have no money for myself.
My job pays so little that I have to live in a shitty one bedroom apartment in the slums.
I out grew all my old clothes. The only ones I have to wear are my work clothes. Which means that I
cant even be myself in my fucking free time.
And so here I am, 38 years old, sitting in this fucking cube waiting to die.
My only solace were my dreams.
I'd sneak into this old janitor's closet.
I had bought the key from this one janitor who was quitting.
As the years had gone by I started having horrendous dreams.
The most recent is this recurring dream I've been having.
Its where I'm on a small island and in the middle of the island is a large 700 room hotel.
It was the only building on the whole island and the rest was just sand. It was just me alone in the old
abandoned hotel. The sea surrounded the small island, it was as if it
were the only piece of land on Earth.
I loved it so much. I was at peace and in a state of nirvana every time I slept.
The dreams were all the same for weeks.
Just me alone in the hotel exploring all the empty rooms.
Watching all the shitty talk shows on the TV's. For some reason the TV's still worked.
One day I saw an old rerun of Oprah and in the middle of it, the couch that she was sitting on turned
into a monster and ate her fat ass.
The water worked, as well as a lot of things that shouldn't have worked. There was always a full
buffet. And the mini fridge was always full too.
But the rooms were old and nasty with no electricity. Which was odd. Most things seemed to work
except for the lights.
The food looked like shit but it tasted so fucking good!
A few weeks later someone else came to my hotel.
An intruder in my own heaven. I wanted too kill whoever it was!
I was a corrupt god who wanted his heaven all to himself. This place was mine and mine alone.
I had become the 7 year old who didn't want to share.
I found the intruder when I walked to my favorite room. Room number 56.
Expected me to say something like 666, didn't you? Well sorry to disappoint.
Anyway, as I walked to room #56, the door dematerialized. In its place stood a bald and somewhat
skinny old man in his forties. He had crusty pale gray skin and only wore jeans that were a darker
shade of gray than he was. The only part of the door that didn't fade out was the number 56; which was
tattooed on his forehead. The intruder was named Lobo and to my amazement we became best friends.
He killed all the cockroaches and spiders and rats that I was far too scared to get near. Mainly because
they were twice the size that they should be.
He showed me how to unlock the porn on the TV, which was nice. And he showed me the hidden pool
on the roof.
As it turns out he was the one re-filling the buffets and mini fridges. He had been here first which
made me the intruder. Not him. But it was okay because he was “here to serve.”
One day during my dream I couldn't find Lobo.
I looked all over for him but I had no idea where he was.
As I made my way through the halls I noticed that there was something in them.
Hands and faces tried to stretch and claw their way out of the walls. Each of them mocked me and
laughed at me. Calling me names like “cock-snot” and “fuck-nut.”
I tried to ignore them but each insult made every hair on my head feel like a hot sewing needle stabbing
me in the skull.
When I got to the roof I found a girl swimming in the pool. She said her name was Lopo. Like Lobo
but with a Q instead of a B.
I thought it was funny.
Because I found Lobo in the buffet.
Buffet starts with a B and Lobo has a B in his name.
And here I find Lopo in the pool.
Pool starts with P and there's a P in Lopo.
I just couldn't help but laugh.
That was the first creative thing that had happened since I got that job.
Lopo read my mind and told me to stop thinking about work so much.
I told her that it was too hard not to.
Then she asked if it would help if I fucked her.
She had a nice body so I went for it.
I was the master but only for the first time we fucked.
But after that she became in control and made me her bitch.
She would always ask "who's a good sex slave? You are! Yes you are!"
Then a few days later the dreams got more fucked up.
There was the dream where Lopo and me fucked in one of the rooms and
on the TV there was this fetish porn that involved two amputee's and a lot of yogurt.
Which was new because until then TV's would only play regular boring porn.
On the TV there was this dickless guy fucking a girl with a strap-on. I wish sex with Lopo was as
simple as that.
But it wasn't. Lopo had a doggy chain around my neck and she wore a strap-on.
She made me suck on it and she made fun of me for being good at it.
But here's the truly strange part: Out of nowhere she had
a little baby Jesus in her right hand.
At first I thought it was a toy but then I saw that it was moving! It was a fucking real baby Jesus!!
She placed her left hand on the back of my head and pushed me down.
She called me a bitch and told me not to stop sucking.
Then she shoved the little baby Jesus up my ass.
The baby Jesus screamed as he was pushed up into my asshole. All of the sudden there was this ad on
the TV: "Get your Baby Jesus Butt-plug today! Only 9.95!"
Then I woke up! I woke up and found that I came in my pants.
I left the closet and walked back to my cubicle.
And then I sat there wondering what the fuck was up with that dream!
And soon I figured it out. It was simple.
You see, last month they had teamed me up with this girl named Cindy.
They wanted us to do a presentation together.
I introduced myself and she just said "uh huh."
I ended up doing most of the work while she just chewed bubblegum and text.
A week later we gave the presentation in front of all the office executives.
I had sneaked a note saying that I liked her into her folder when she wasn't looking.
I expected her to find it long after the presentation was over. But no, fate decided to spit on me and say
“FUCK YOU!”
She took it out and she read it, then she started laughing.
One of the execs asked what was so funny and she started reading it out loud and then
everyone started laughing their fucking asses off.
Then she read the last part of the note; "signed Alex."
Then she asked with a puzzled face, "does anyone know who Alex is??"
I put on a fake puzzled face and said "maybe some nobody."
(Knowing full well it was me).
And then one of the other execs said "maybe some poor fucker who works
in one of the cubicles!" Everyone laughed and I had to pretend to laugh too.
"Hey, what's your name again?" Asked Cindy between laughs.
"I'm James." I lied with a fake smile.
A few weeks later they gave her a promotion and I stayed in my cube.
Like I said before, here I am, sitting in this fucking cube waiting to die.
I leaned back into my chair and looked up at the ceiling. I thought about the band that left me. The
girlfriend I was too afraid to say I love you to. The mom who kicked me out even after dad died and
she got more then twelve grand because of life insurance.
The friends who outgrew me just like my old clothes did. And the talent that my drunk of a father stole
from me.
I sighed as a thin tear ran down my left cheek.
I wiped it away and told myself “no more.”
I sat up, grabbed my briefcase and walked out of my cubicle.
It's about 10p.m. right now. And most of the people on this floor have gone home.
I walked towards the bathrooms and saw Cindy walking out of the ladies room.
No one else is around. So I took out the gun from my pocket. She stops frozen in fear as she sees it in
my hand. My eyes dart around to make sure if anyone else was here.
It was just us.
"Don't make a noise." I said quietly as I walked up to her. She remained silent.
"Walk back into the bathroom." I commanded her.
She slowly walked back into the ladies room and I followed.
We walked into one of the stalls and I told her to "sit down."
She sat on the toilet and I said "don't bite" as I took my dick out.
She whispered "who are?"
That fucking bitch didn't even remember me!
"The second I feel teeth, I'll shoot your head off."
"Who are you?" She whispered again.
"Alex." I said as I stuck my dick in her mouth. "Now suck it."
She started sucking but she was doing it really slowly.
That's when I grabbed on to her hair with my left hand and
began to face-fuck her. I came in about 20 minutes.
"Now swallow it." I said to her with a smile on my face.
After a few seconds of crying and hoping this wasn't real she said "you're the one who wrote the
note."
My smile grew wider as I said "yes."
Then I put the gun to her head and said "say hi to your God for me" as I pulled on the trigger.
I ran out of the restroom to find everyone who I didn't see screaming.
There must have been at least five of them. Some of them called the cops while others hid under their
desk. And some even prayed.
I wasted no time in running back to my closet. I locked the door behind me and put the gun in my
pocket. I opened my briefcase and pulled out an extension cord that I tied as a noose. I swung it around
one of the pipes on the ceiling. Then I stood up, using my briefcase as a step ladder, and hung myself.
As I hung dying I thought to myself "they'll probably find my body when they smell the shit that falls out."
The End