Excerpt from a work in progress. It was as apparent as the bulbous nose on my face that took up more room than it should that I was battling depression. It was an all-out donnybrook it was guantes with left hooks rights hooks, upper cuts and elbows, it was no rule Chingasos with head-butts and patada boladoras (flying kicks) headlocks, chokeholds, arm bars, and open handed slaps to the ear, it was three stooges eye gouging, and Mike Tyson ear bites, it was face to face, toe to toe close quarter combat. There were no rest periods any time-outs, no excuses such as, I will be back my mother is calling me. This damn thing that engulfed me made me at times shoot out the word F word like a rocket from my unclean lips and once exploding into the atmosphere this word just hung there its lamentable groan closer to the cry of the wounded rather than an Anglo-Saxon expletive-sometimes no other word would do! And for sometime to come this battle for the sake of normalcy for the bustle of happy idiots would rage within.
Posted on: Tue, 18 Mar 2014 23:47:08 +0000
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