Dream Dark Stories

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  • Day One Hundred & Eighty-Nine, July 7th, 2024

    Hi-ho and hello.

    This is a scribed recording of myself at 12:42 a.m on the 8th of July.

    I will try my best to speak clearly, and not edit anything.

    Midnight, midnight 45 actually, the rains softly falls up above. And I am perplexed, as a matter of fact I am much more than perplexed. I’m flummoxed, behooved, rattled, f****** frustrated as hell.

    You ever go through a matter of weeks, days, and in this time you feel calm, even comfortable, safe, a solid and dare I say resolute stance seems to be had? And then, something happens, you forgot to delete something that doesn’t f****** matter because it’s that minute, that infinitesimal that it becomes something so distanced and neglected that it’s nothing, but then Fortuna, the gorgeous lady, s**** on you like a bird in the heat of summer?

    And then what went from feeling peaceful and calm like the placid waters of a distant lake; turns to the devastation of a hurricane meeting a typhoon during a full moon.

    Yesterday, I felt a dying calm, there was such a peace in my heart that if anything had gone wrong I don’t think it would have phased me, today is quite the contrary.

    Now you think, ‘maybe it’d be the boys I’m talking about‘. It isn’t but at moments I wish it was.

    It’s a daunting reality to this song:

    ENJOI!!

    There’s no buying of anything that can ever bring a solid and consistent variable of happiness. At least, that’s what I’m finding. And that leaves me here trying to decide on a few things. 

    Like: What am I going to let affect me?

    How am I going to be? And what steps do I want to take?

    The truth of the matter is, it’s a choice, everyday is a choice to be what you want to be. Do you choose to be gracious and kind, or brash, assertive, and overbearing? Do you want to make each step count? Or take a trip five steps back?

    That’s where I am? Am I going to repeat on a path of the insanity route doing something the same with an expectation to there being a difference this time? Or is it wanting to make it the best it can be. It is a choice.

    Choose.

    C’est La Vie

    Good night and good morning, good morning and good night. Thank you for the gracious support and coming time and again. I thank you.

    May your night be bliss and the day be gracious and pleasant. Til tomorrow.

    NOSCE TE IPSUM

  • Day One Hundred & Eighty-Eight, July 6th, 2024

    Hi-ho and hello.

    Just try, for me, for you and yourself if you would, to be happy and find light.

    Life is too damn short.

    Life is too precious and beautiful to hold emblazoned fury to ancient trials. Is it worth the wasted energy in bringing that type of anger or ignition? Wouldn’t you rather invest in love and light to boost and help than otherwise?

    I know I would.

    Those boys I wrote about, I’m awaiting a response hesitantly, anxiously, and there’s so much whirling around my head. For one I could understand the anger that I see in his eyes, the other has a joy that reveals the fire and beauty for life. They both do though depending on circumstances of course, just the teen angst has come to the oldest, and I get it. Least I could understand.

    There’s a sure feeling that I’ll be receiving some letters from them likely around the time that I send the box that I am packing for ’em… we’ll see. And said that I would sketch some pieces for them before I get that over to him and I am debating do I paint do I sketch or do I just send things? The trivial ordeals of a dad it is still trying to figure his s*** out.

    C’est La Vie

    Good night and good morning, good morning and good night. May your coming day be beautiful, may the night come with grace and bliss.

    Thank you for the repeated support to boosting the site. Thank you.

    NOSCE TE IPSUM

  • Day One Hundred & Eighty-Seven, July 5th, 2024

    Hi-ho and hello.

    If I may, I will give some context to what I will be setting the stage with today.

    A small one, I know, ENJOI!

    To begin, I was not a decent person growing up. I was a teen, a child wrestling with my own curiosity of my bastard self. Just meeting my brother and my sister after 18 years, just meeting my dad after 19, and I thought having a fucking kid was a good idea. Now obviously it wasn’t because I was a s*** ass, it wasn’t because I was in a gang which I wasn’t, I wasn’t viciously violent, I haven’t killed anybody, but I haven’t kept my word. I haven’t kept to my promises, and I’ve made some mistakes that I’m not proud of. I’ve also likely hurt more people than I’m aware of especially two boys that I’m responsible for.

    That’s why I’m writing about what’s being written today.

    Life and choices… am I right?

    The thing though, I was a teen and thought having kids was a great idea. Stop, read that sentence again ‘I was a teen and thought having a kid was a great idea. real question this is anybody reading this please please I beg you answer. I would love the conversation. But here’s my question.

    If you were a 30-year-old woman, meeting a young man who seemed sure, seemed positive, and thought having kids was a good idea where do you stand on that?

    Now I’m not looking for validation, nor am I looking for justification in anything I’m simply questioning the whole of it all. I’m 34 almost? I think. And just the ill thought of having coitus with somebody 10 years younger than me is grotesque. I don’t know that’s just my thought though back to it anyway sorry I digress.

    But I realized ‘wait I still am a kid! I want to continue being a kid and figure life out that way and ended up making some really selfish decisions where I built my own family away from them, leaving them in another town. It was the one actually, just one. I didn’t know about the second one until much later.

    That’s not an excuse, and they do get taken care of very well, as a matter of fact I am making a goodie box for the both of them and I plan on producing a shot or two of what is going to be sent to them. Figured it’s about fu***** time.

    I’m actually very excited and I wrote them a 12 , maybe 14 or 15 pg. Letter telling them the truth as best as I could without drudging anybody through the mud. I just simply stated who I was as a young man and foolish one, how I made some drastic and crass decisions and decided I don’t want to live like this, which if you understood I think you’d know, and I didn’t want that in my life. I didn’t want that for my life and I didn’t want to already have changed what I did and let that become who I am and I’m not that person.

    The truth of the matter is I was fearful, and what took me so long with communicating with them was the fear and apprehensiveness of the Navy SEAL brothers that are tied to her family, knowing that their life was better off as it was untouched by me then with me. This though was a thought then and not a thought now, so here we are waiting for a letter or conversation back. I don’t know, I feel like maybe it will be a text message… I’m hoping it’s not a letter but we’ll see.

    Poetry & Art

    Medication by: M. R. Vega
    Fire Bush by: M. R. Vega

    C’est La Vie

    Good night and good morning, good morning and good night. Thank you for the support and likes. Please do share and help me get this site moving up and up. Thank you all.

    NOSCE TE IPSUM

  • Prompt

    What is your favorite genre of music?

    For me it’s music, that’s the genre. In its whole entirety.

    I love music, everything from Ludovico Einaudi, Nils Frahm, and Austin Farwell to Fugazi, Modest Mouse, Tool, Radiohead, Pixies, PJ Harvey, R.L. Burnside, The Black Keys, to Charlotte Day Wilson, Syd Elmiene, Avenoir, Brent Faiyaz, Teddy Swims, Kendrick Lamar and oh s***, more like Zach Bryan, Ray LaMontagne, City and Colour, The Hics, and well…let me just do this…

    These are the favorites, the ones that are likely found sporadically on any playlist made of mine and inserted through Spotify’s lovely algorithms .

    ENJOI!!!

    C’est La Vie

    Good night and good morning, good morning and good night. May the day be blessed, the night graceful with a touch of love.

    NOSCE TE IPSUM

  • The Daily Prompt

    Describe your most memorable vacation.

    Hi-ho and hello.

    You know, growing up I didn’t really get what vacation was, and the first time I did have an actual legitimate vacation I was almost uneasy. I know it’s odd or at least I can assume one reading what I’m stating would go ‘what the hell is wrong with you?’

    Ever hear of guilt? Would be my retort back.

    There’s always been a inner motion to be the best host, and to help as much as many as possible purely because it’s something I enjoy and I feel that that’s really it. So being the father and husband that I am I get to practice that, that said I think my favorite part about vacations of the few that we’ve had anyhow, it has to do with the building up of family. Every vacation I get closer with an uncle, closer with a cousin, and the mentality of what it means to them for family and I think the analyzing of those around me and picking up from them what matters I don’t know I find it resolute as from the get-go I like humans it doesn’t mean I want to talk to every human but I like watching people that I find it perplexing to see people behave in ways that befuddle me. Anyhow I wish you all very well.

    C’est La Vie

    Good night and good morning, good morning and good night, may your day be beautiful May the night be blessed and graced. Dream on fellow readers.

    Til tomorrow.

    NOSCE TE IPSUM

  • Day One Hundred & Eighty-Six, July 4th, 2024

    Hi-ho and hello.

    I have a question, a sincere one that I’d love feedback for.

    Is one an a**hole for not enjoying the 4th? Just aspects, maybe?

    It’s not that I don’t appreciate the holiday and what it stands for. And it’s not that I don’t respect those that have died for that beautiful resolve that is the freedom that we’ve been given and had been earned. I think what it is now, the world’s changed and the way we respect and we the way we look upon one another is with damning eyes apparently and it hurts my heart. So today I celebrate being with my family, being with the ones I love and the ones I hold dear and true because with them my freedom is available. So that’s where I was and that’s how I am and that’s kind of where I’m standing. I will say we got some kids firework sets and my little guy absolutely loved it kept asking for more and more and luckily, lo and behold, there was a box of fireworks just chilling in the back patio. Ended up getting quite a show and had a wonderful time and that’s something that matters giving that value to my little guy he doesn’t understand what it means for politics and the rest of everything that is the nuance of being human and being you know cognizant with the s*** reality we’ve got going on right now but I wanted to make sure that I could provide as much as glorious a day for him as possible. I think I achieved it.

    (untitled)

    By: M. R. Vega

    Untitled. By: M. R. Vega

    C’est La Vie

    Good night and good morning, good morning and good night. May the day, may the night, may the world embrace you and boost you to your highest. Thank you for your support and coming back and again.

    NOSCE TE IPSUM

  • Day One Hundred & Eighty-Five, July 3rd, 2024

    Hi-ho and hello.

    Today I’m doing a poetry post due to celebrating family and being together tomorrow. I’ve got loads of prep work and wanted to post this before the fourth has encroached on the rest of my joys.

    I hope you are all well and hope the poem is enjoyed.

    Tell Me by: M. R. Vega

    C’est La Vie

    Good night and good morning, good morning and good night. May the day and wondrous darkness that comes through the nightly winds caress you gently and tuck you in for a splendid dream fueled bliss.

    Stay safe, be kind, and may I see you tomorrow.

    NOSCE TE IPSUM

  • Prompt

    On what subject(s) are you an authority?

    My religious upbringing recounts of Romans, and the pensivity that finds a calm resolve here asks ‘Is having faith in ourselves, is that the authority that gives us the right to be that? Is it having faith or knowledge of the subject that allows an authoritarian perspective.

    I ask this because life, currently the life we are living in, has a capacity that is continuously and forever growing that’s at 8 point what one or two billion, that is 8.2 billion people of the world. That said, there’s a knowledge of resounding infinitesimal reality. There is definitely someone who’s smarter than smarter than me. There is definitely someone who knows more than i, regardless of subject or otherwise there is definitely someone who knows more on a subject that I like or give a f*** about more than I do. You know it’s a beauty of life is though regardless of that 8.2 billion? The beauty is every single one of us is going to have a different response to the prompt. Not only is our response going to be different, the feelings, the memories, the relation to whatever it is that comes to you when thinking about this subject about your authority, we are our own cookie cutter form of whatever that is whatever it is we’re thinking and that my friends is the beauty because that difference in the way you’re thinking, the way you’re reading this, the way you’re absorbing this is genuinely as original as every snowflake falling down when it snows.

    So what are you do I have? I have the authority to dream, to wonder, to question, to be the human that I am, and to be angry, to be explorative, to be interested, to be silent. I have the authority to love the music that I do, share the dreams I have, the emotions I wish, and the perspective of my originality from your originality, I have the authority to be me the same way you have the beautiful authority to do the same, the biggest difference in every single one of us, is what steps are you going to make to make the day better for you and everybody else? Can you do it? Can you be that person? Do you want to affect the world? Do you want to move the world? Do you want to have the world stop and listen? Because life’s too f****** beautiful and to God damn short to not breathe in the air.

    C’est La Vie

    NOSCE TE IPSUM

  • What’s your definition of romantic?

    I feel that the definition of romantic falls in a place of that in sharing, saying, aiming, and wanting love whether it be with one or sharing love in an affectionate and appropriate manner depending on circumstances… I feel can be a blade of beauty. And I think sharing love and showing a conscientious effort to love everyone and be gracious and conscientious of respecting one another is definitely a romantic type of living, however I feel that romanticism is something of a different double edged blade.

    C’est la vie

    NOSCE TE IPSUM

  • Day One Hundred & Eighty-Four, July 2nd, 2024

    Hi-ho and hello.

    ENJOI!!!

    Today will be a day a poetry which may, just maybe, become a consistent addition to the blog depending on reception. Forget-Me-Naught is getting some feedback from some friends of my 18 yr old and I’m loving that. As a matter of fact, I’m thinking about having her kind of jump into helping me if she’s up for it with the memories, which I told her if she’s going to go to college it would be a great addition for her portfolio either after or before college, or f***, during.

    But I digress, to the poetry, I found a conscientious leather producer of Buffalo leather as a matter of fact on Amazon, did some research and got some benefit of the doubt going on, so I purchased it and I will be taking an image otf a poem everyday depending on how long obviously there will be so many pictures but I do hope it translates well, if not please plealse do let me know and I will make a scribed editio PO x with the photo included.

    One son of a b****, trying to figure out which proper pen to use for cloth paper. Turns out that Sharpie’s Gel S works pretty well.

    LEATHER VILLAGE
    07-02-2024
    Introduction
    Howling by: M. R. Vega

  • Day One Hundred & Eighty-Three, July 1st, 2024

    Hi-ho and hello.

    So…I’ve decided that each day will share a form of art on the daily from day one of July to the 18th and likely be sporadic afterword depending on the reception and feedback. We’ll see.

    Short Story

    By: M. R. Vega

    Melinda woke to silence.

    An utterly stagnant and dreary silence with an utter stench lingering that immediately brought on a wretching in her throat. Her body convulsed and shot upright from the still placid home of huddled sheets and piled serapes dropping from her coughing, thrashing chest and shoulders. She grabs for the water on her night stand, fumbling and knocking it onto a stack of old manuscripts, coughs with another thrashing and irritably clenches at her fists while stomping to the bathroom with the now empty cup.

    She flips the light on and is stupefied, lambasted by the horror that’s staring back at her. It couldn’t be, she thought, it can’t be, she told herself. Muttering in an incoherent clicking and gurgling of what was her mouth.

    Melinda Josie Tronlin had happened to find herself staring back at what was but an alien. It’s head near bulbous, Melinda’s eyes now the size of tea plates, slits for a nose and strange suction like appendages that continued to get stuck to what had become her. She put her arms on the counter, holding her shaking body up, sobbing in odd whelping barks. She shook and shook her head, clenched her eyes shut praying this was something else, something of a nightmare, of a horror in a mind that must be breaking. This couldn’t be, she thought. But then, she was a student, and a pensive one, she halted her quivering and convulsing, shaking body. She needed to be still.

    To listen and sense what she could. There was an odd sensation on her legs that now looked more like cricket legs, e melded chicken, cricket hybrid with small, pretty feathers draped down on the sides. She bent over to feel. It tickled and felt as though she would cough if she didn’t stop touching the feathers. She stood up quickly and looked at her chest and arms, her arms and hands more tentacle and smooth muscle like, she thought of falic things and shook through, trying to shake them back to her strong toned self. The body she’d worked so hard to have after her asshole husband cheated. Dragging his d*** through every open hole of the town.

    And she’d worked her self near dead these last four years, for what? She stomped her hoof like feet down and grunted angrily at the mirror angrily tapping what she assumed were nails on the tile. She could smell herself, it was repulsing, a filth that sunk into the mouth or the slit and hooks that had become her mouth. She chittered, is this my laugh? She thought for a moment and heard a heavy thumping and creaking motion in the living room.

    She slowly opened the bathroom door enough that she could peer down the staircase to see if Jason was heading upstairs. She heard the faucet of the kitchen sink and took the opportunity to run to her room. She closed it, locked it and found an empty corner of her closet and crouched till she heard nothing but the hum of the A/C kicking on.

    She hesitated at the door, unsure of everything at the moment but knew her gun crazed twat of a man would likely shoot her. How can she…the front door closed loudly and she heard his crumby truck door creak open and sighed, perhaps it was click, or clucking but she was relieved for a moment until she burst out the into the hallway and realized there were cameras everywhere, his paranoid ass had cameras at every door. She took a gasp her a deafening rapport and fell silently, heavily to the floor with a sickening folding thud and stilled.

    Fin

  • Day One Hundred & Eighty-Two, June 30th, 2024

    Hi-ho and hello.

    The last day of June. Only eighteen days left before Day 200 and I have no idea what to do given it’ll be the 200+ post of the year and a continuous, but tumultuous project.

    200 days of writing, of sharing my thoughts, self, and the perspectives to what’s been set in my path. But I digress, it’s only Sunday night, scratch that, it’s Monday.

    Once again…I’m the last to bed, likely the first to wake, so it goes. So…any ideas?

    Was thinking maybe have a Q&A. Or drop an Art piece a day, or poetry and Art daily til Day 200.

    Any idea? Hmmm. It’s 18 days starting the 1st, haha which is now today, dammit.

    C’est La Vie

    Good night and good morning, good morning and good night. Thank you for the support and continued coming again and again. It warms my heart to know we can boost each other to better all of us.

    NOSCE TE IPSUM

  • Day One Hundred & Eighty-One, June 29th, 2024

    Hi-ho and hello.

    ENJOI!!!

    The house is cool, chilled to a comfortable temperature, leaving those resting reveling in their comfort.

    It is the first day though; a first day of summer heat that hasn’t infected the spoils of our resting hours.

    And for the strangest reason, I had thought my body would have had me rest. Though it didn’t, it wasn’t egregiously assaulting, the body just woke me when I thought it’d lay dormant and still. But like Vesuvius erupting the joints come blistering with pangs and burning, a torrid of thrashing sensations that are invisibly rioting through this flesh. My eyes open, emblazoned, staring at the blank slate above me, and I know I’m the first awake. I can hear their deep slumber, their chortled snores of the quite sort and a shifting of feet underneath the sheets.

    My body screams against the meandering course of the metal frame beneath my stolid body and I creak at the sign of movement like a widowed old house.

    My routine is followed to the gallows that hold my coffee hostage for the moments before I have it jutting into  the large mug awaiting my lips. This dark elixir, my crutch for a fatigue, holds me close to the heart, awaiting a fitting body wrecked and exhausted from living, being. 

    C’est La Vie

    Good night and good morning, good morning and good night.

    I thank you for the continued time and again liking my posts and following my discoveries.

    NOSCE TE IPSUM

  • Day One Hundred & Eighty, June 28th, 2024

    Hi-ho and hello.

    He’s jealous. That is my son is, I’ve been talking about his brothers as of late, writing letters to both of them and I have the opportunity to see my son share emotions that I have seen very little of. Given his autism and just the personality of who my son is, it’s inspiring to see that so much more is going on inside of him than what others around us think.

    However there is a tinge of guilt, though I am excited for the opportunity to be able to introduce my son to his brothers eventually, as it is it’s just me and my little guy when his mom isn’t here, and I think he’s starting to want some friends.

    As a matter of fact he’s likely bored and wanting friends more than I know, but sadly, him being nonverbal having a loaded discussion about friends and wants isn’t something that comes with him.

    I hate it.

    I don’t think anyone understands what it’s like having a boy who can’t talk but is as adventurous and loving as he is. There are so many queues to pick up on with him, and half the time, it’s not definite. The amount of subjectivity that is left leaves us fretting and unknowing. Trust me, it’s not something I’d wish on a parent but it comes with its special gifts. Like extremely endearing loving moments where he’ll hold a hand, give a big hug or kiss. It’s moments like that, that has me watching him grow daily right next to him. It’s an honor.

    C’est La Vie

    Good night and good morning, good morning and good night.

    I thank you for the support and they continue coming back in again. Thank you, thank you.

    NOSCE TE IPSUM

  • Day One Hundred & Seventy-Nine, June 27th, 2024

    Hi-ho and hello

    Letter, letters, letters.

    As I stated in the previous post I am writing some letters to the boys. I had originally decided that I was going to write three, one for both of them together to be read and then one separately each. Even with forever stamps though, I’m looking at using the three I have left for what I’m writing just in one letter. But at least I have it.

    It’s been too long since the last letter I’ve written but it’s about time that I’m communicating to  the two that will be receiving them shortly.

    Regardless, I’m still nervous, not that I’ll be there when they get the letters, not that I’ll see how their faces change through page after page. Will they be stolid and silent, or will they come with grace and a wanting to meet?

    The questions I should have asked myself years ago and couldn’t see from when I made the decisions that had led me to where I’m at now, it’s surreal at times, just to think of then and now. To think of the infantile young adult that was 19 and stupid to now, nearing 34, wishing and wondering so many things could have been different, but if it was that, I wouldn’t be me, it wouldn’t be this.

    I leave you with a poem of what’s being felt inside, the wrestling of me.

    Untitled

    By: M. R. Vega

    Questions, answers, a child, make it two. They come with hesitations, lamentations, facing an adverse wall of loss and convoluted reprise.

    I come with constraints, a nervous bellowing deeply settled, unsure of the realities I see, unsure of the recoiling unknown, knowing I’d be just as apprehensive to know what’s before me.

    Questions and answers, share a truth, don’t shy from honesty, trust in thyself, what’s the worst that can happen?

    So many years, so many unanswered questions, curiosities of the splendor to the unknown, the unchecked, what will you say? How will you feel?

    There sits pen and paper, before me it rests, my hands shake, the heart quivers to the nervousness of what you two will think. I press on and give you as much as I can muster to give a good take of my tapestry.

    Take the thread, follow my steps to learn from what I’ve become and who I am to be. I come with honesty and guilt, take my apologies as you will. I am here.

    C’est La Vie

    Good night and good morning, good morning and good night. Thank you for the support readers and I Love that you come back time and again. May your day come with grace and the night a blissful one. Thank you.

    NOSCE TE IPSUM

  • Day One Hundred & Seventy-Eight, June 26th, 2024

    Hi-ho and hello

    Whooo, what a change in life but if you were to hear of what it is, you’d have to ask, why? What happened, what changed? And why?

    Do you want to know?

    Really want to know?

    Alright, it is something that I’m somewhat ashamed of, something that to an extent, I am still embarrassed with but you can only make the changes. It’s making choices to make whether you make the choice or not that’s on you right? So finally I made a conscious effort and decision to communicate with my boys, my son’s; the ones in Grand Junction.

    Long story short as a very young person I had a child out of wedlock. I was about 19 having him with a woman who was, I think 31, when she gave birth to him. And we had lived together for a little while to which I ended removing myself after seeing certain things and falling in love with who I’m with now. Lo and behold three days after my wife and I get married I find out that a second son was born. My wife and I had made an attempt or two to get to Grand junction more than a few times and see one of the boys but it became costly and my health ended up taking a turn. I stopped talking to them or trying to talk to them and trying to build a relationship. I completely stopped like an a****** and I know that. So this is another reason why I did the Five Pillars and went through discovering what are the things that I hold dear and one of the biggest things is being a husband and a father. That said, I want to make sure that I at least try to be involved with them.

    So here I am late again due to writing letters and focusing on other things, like heavy letters to the both of them together and separately.

    So I’m signing out and I hope you well.

    C’est La Vie

    Good night and good morning, good morning and good night. I thank you for the support and the continued time and again that you come back. May your day be gracious and the night a cradling envelope of love and serenity.

    NOSCE TE IPSUM

  • Forget-Me-Naught Pt. 3

    By: M. R. Vega

    † These are the recordings of Joel D. Braunagh. Patient #19-374222. Case #9119 Det. Milton # 617

    Date/Time – May 14th, 2009, 8:00 p.m.

    Pt. #19-374222 J.D.Braunagh

    -+- Evening Joel. Once again, for general purposes, I am Detective Rachel Milton. This is a recording of Joel’s discussions with me, over a divulging of details about the box, the altercation between Michael Braunagh; the brother.

    -+- Night three Joel. Are you ready? Can we do this tonight? At least the box, please?

    — I already told you I’d tell you, I’ll share everything. It’s going back and tracing the steps that knocks the f*** out of me. Leaving me completely drained and more than frustrated, it’s more than agonizing to separate that frustration with the law and the obvious situation that has me here. But of course, that’s not sensical to any of you, is it? But I already confessed to everything. I did it sorrowfully but willfully, taking the accountability for the loss of all three because it’s my hands that created the situation. It’s bad enough that I don’t get to put them in the ground!

    -+- Joel as a matter of fact, its a legal right for you, they’ll let you go to each funeral. But, we need to get this documented; we need to know, like I keep telling you. Deal?

    — Well that is a horse of a different f****** color ain’t it? Not that it was our plan to begin with, burying that is. I think we both wanted to become ash, like what we came from. At least, *sigh* it wasn’t set, not yet, we hadn’t even bought plots yet. Sorry, (sucks on teeth), I digress sorry, god I f****** miss her.

    ‡ Joel grabs at the nape of his neck and rocks back and forth for a moment grimacing at the tile beneath his obnoxious orange gel slides.

    -+- I’m sorry Joel. Truly but we do need to know what happened. What was it that happened after Luca died? (I pause for a moment, waiting to see that register, he doesn’t stir, doesn’t blink, or really pay mind), What happened, aside from the magazine collecting Joel, you’re a toy maker, the most you’ve done is what? Wind-em-up toys or pullbacks is that what they call these?

    ‡ I pull out a small plastic duck with wheels from out of my blazer pocket.  I pull it back pressing against the surface of the floor table desk and let go. I do this, position it to tap against his prison shoe, and when it hits it, he looks down, looks at me, sighs heavily nodding his head.

    — Yes and no, the person who made the ducks actually, her name is Jessica Stewart, I wasn’t ever really a big fan of her craft but we worked in the same tier level.

    — Anyway, no, I did more than just the simple machine type of toy, we had a production line that was similar to magnetic tiles but made sounds, and we were in the process of an interlocking block system that was definitely going to bring us to court with Lego, but I guess it doesn’t matter. (He grimaces again, shakes his head with a face that looks of disgust.) But no I…I did action figures, I did the molding, I did some robotics but on a minute and basic level and  no I…I…just happened to stop, I didn’t do anything for a while. You, *sigh*, I don’t know how to put it because I didn’t just lose my boy Rachel, I lost the fire of my life. It wasn’t until after Luca’s death, that had me realize truths to what Celeste and I were. We became a stagnant mass of gelatin together and alone. She loathed me and I the same with her but then cowered back with a loving embrace because we were alone. What with him passing away there was such a resounding loss in the both of us…that my wife and I, we couldn’t, she couldn’t escape. It was more like being shot into space knowing no one would catch us…we were just alone, together, of course.

    — But, it’s not the same…it’s not the same. It was never going to be the same and this wasn’t just killing Celeste, it was wreaking havoc on the mental health of our baby girl who now, had nothing.

    ‡ Joel grabs the small duck, pulls back a distance further than expected and lets go of the toy, leaving the duck sailing toward my feet and under my chair. He gives a meek smile. And continued…

    — We were both well aware of Zappy; the little five years old and her curious mind. She had a bit of an inclination of what actually happened though and just knowing that her brother was gone had deeply resonated within her and Celeste and I didn’t come to help build her up. We were too busy inside ourselves. But we did tell her that Luca went for the long sleep, she understood but kept saying he’d come back. That was until the ‘sealing‘ happened.

    -+- The sealing? Can you elaborate…you know I’ll have more questions to that Joel, what is that, the sealing?

    — Relax, I’m getting to it.

    — Promise

    ‡ Joel smiles, he’s starting to get moderately comfortable.

    — But as parents, we tried to…we carried it as best as we could but we stayed silent, we had become those that loved one another indefinitely, but somehow allowed the grief to eviscerate the idea of anything else but loss and the idea of Luca not being here. I lost myself, I was put on suspension with my job and started letting my team down, my activity at work severely lessened where I started running behind with everything. I started losing weight, even went so far to malnourish her due being blind. That’s how negligent and calous we were. But then thankfully Michael came.

    -+- Okay, so your brother was involved, your brother was a happy extension of the family and obviously had helped, with what I’m assuming, all of it?

    — Yeah exactly, he took me down into the basement and saw the stacks of magazines, copper wires, more metal sheets, bolts, crystal shards, more wire, and metal. Oh, and piled up earth magnets that were likely causing everything above us to go on the fritz and just held me.

    ‡ Joel let out a heavy sigh and visible tears were falling from his chin. They’d occasionally pool and hang for a moment in his meek goatee and fall soaking the gels wrapped around his feet

    — I let everything out, I melted in his arms and lost the ability to stand, and I think Michael knew, he knew how far gone Celeste and I had gone with just the entirety of our loss. So him showing up when he did, well it was bound to happen, I’m grateful it did, but at the same time, sorry that it did and I don’t get to tell him that.

    -+- How long did he stay with you?

    — A couple months until he thought he was seeing that we were getting back on our feet, he did help me keep my job, but he had also had some issue with what I was trying to make in the basement.

    -+- The box, okay so Michael had nothing to do with the box?

    — No, not a f****** chance, no, he thought what I was trying to do was idiotic, and thought I was being more than a fool, I don’t know, obviously he wasn’t wrong, look at where we’re at. What I’m f****** wearing, these are god damn jellies on my feet. This is ridiculous, I get it, and I know why, I’m just venting for a moment.

    -+- That’s okay, I get it. Honest. -+- Not wanting to be somewhere when it’s needed but if the opportunity arose, you’d be gone…trust me, Joel I get it.

    — Yeah, okay Rachel, okay. Anyhow, back to Michael, he was seeing that we were okay but there was something off…something dauntingly trepidatious, especially for Celeste. Sadly neither of us saw…‡ Joel inhales sharply through clenched teeth…I don’t know how we missed it.  She must be a hell of a thespian.

    — Anyhow Michael was seeing that she couldn’t handle the second floor hallway on her way to the Master bedroom, it went right by Luca’s open door and it wrecked her every f****** day, every moment that called for going anywhere near, which was always. She had become frail, nearly a different woman, her eyes sunken in, her cheeks shallow and pale, eyes near glossed and she looked more than haggard. Celeste was becoming a broke form of what she once was and all we thought was something so simple. How do we close the room off?

    — Brick and mortar was the answer and we started the next day, for a brief moment it looked like a scene from The Cask of Amontillado, brick and mortar, brick and mortar. We had the door and a good three feet in sealed up and off and drywalled over that leaving us an extended hallway as though it had always been there.

    -+- And did this help?

    — Mmm, for a bit Detective, maybe a month, maybe two, enough that I finished the box.

    To be continued…

  • Day One Hundred & Seventy-Seven, June 25th, 2024

    Hi-ho and hello.

    Wouldn’t it be such a cruel joke to find the hi-ho was more a reference to snow white and that song, you know the one. What if Vonnegut had nothing to do with it and the motivations that have me running to WP every morning and night was a Disney bit?

    Wouldn’t it be so disappointing?

    Damn straight, that’d be outright nonsense. Like mustard for a clock.

    Hee, hee, hee!!!

    Get it?

    Oh writing, the connections and concoctions that are allowed and can be such an effortless whim of pleasuring freedom.

    Mind you, it’s Vonnegut, it’s always Vonnegut. Bradbury and Vonnegut actually. Those two were not just pivotal and fundamental aspects to my growing. They were the friends and brothers, uncles and fathers I had dreamed to have and they were a book away. I gobbled up their words like a magical juggernaut looking for their wisdom, their fruit of what they saw, what they feared, and I took to it, embraced it and let it help me find everything after them. So if ever you read my words, know it’s to honor not only myself, and the steps toward a better tomorrow, but to the two writers that instilled a call to share and let it out. Hear me, take my heart and the mind that is shared here and know I mean well, I mean it sincerely and I’m not going anywhere but up.

    Next goal after I finish my first short story collection in December, I think I’m aiming for being Colorado’s Laureate. At least that’s a hope I have and a dream that I feel if I drive right I can achieve it.

    We’ll see. I just need to write more, share more and get it to as any as possible to share.

    C’est La Vie

    Good night and good morning, good morning and good night. May the day be bliss, the night be gentle and pleasure wrapped with a bow.

    Til tomorrow.

    NOSCE TE IPSUM

  • Day One Hundred & Seventy-Six, June 24th, 2024

    Hi-ho and hello.

    ENJOI!!!

    So I finally finished some pieces, here’s one of them. The the piece under the side that extends out and connects to the water within that area it was I don’t know just splotchy and lacking really any movement and I didn’t like that so I wanted to add some movement I just I forgot the colors so it definitely is off a little bit but I’m kind of at a point where Art is Art is Art is Art so that’s, that’s where I’m standing.

    A Fawning Moon by: M. R. Vega

    And hey check this out another one because I just want to finish some things and I’m realizing that I have a lot of pieces that really aren’t finished. So, here’s another one.

    La Llorona in the Red Forest by: M. R. Vega, watercolor on canvas, 30 x 40

    And now honestly I’m tired I’m dizzy and hey I’m almost caught up.

    C’est La Vie

    Good night and good morning, good morning and good night. Thank you for the support for the coming back and again to say hello and share a like or two.

    May your day be bliss and the night graciously pleasing. Til tomorrow.

    NOSCE TE IPSUM

  • Day One Hundred & Seventy-Five, June 23rd, 2024

    Hi-ho and hello.

    So who is down for complacency?

    Any takers?

    No?

    I find it weird, a considerately odd diction to what a relationship becomes or at least can become.

    It has me scratch at the scalp with a shrug and silence due to not wanting a complacency in life. I want growth and a manifestation of what can be the best of me and the best of you. Why not, what’s to be lost if we were to take the time? I think that’s why life has me shrugging at complacent remarks and an incessant diction of monotonous rebuking to making a change. Why? What’s the fight against for? Is it becoming something different, or not wanting to make a change? These are my questions, this is the pedestal I stand on because I feel that the questions hold the answer to what life is and the reason we make choices and regard our id, a self manifestation of an ego that’s soul just wants attention.

    Relationships and complacency, is it a choice? Or is it apathy? Are they the same? But, if they are, how can you have apathy if there lies control and if the control is a form of flattery, is it control? Or is the whole of complacency a matter of trying to differentiate between frustrations and wants, and deciding what matters more? Is complacency a plane of existence where it’s a wrestling of choice and decisions to those choices?

    These are the questions that leave me looking at the walls during the night. Life brings questions let’s find the answers together.

    C’est La Vie

    Good night and good morning, good morning and good night. Thank you friends for the support, thank you for being you and being amazing. Thank you. May the night be peaceful and bliss come to borrow for you and yours.

    Til Tomorrow.

    NOSCE TE IPSUM

  • Day One Hundred & Seventy-Four, June 22nd, 2024

    Hi-ho and hello.

    Today is finally the family Vega reunion I am more than pumped. It is 6:30 in the morning I am outside doing my little thing which is My prerogative and something I enjoy.

    After I’m done with that I’m going to run over to the kitchen I’m going to get some goodies going, primarily green chili, and Mexican rice. Personally to Staples of not only my household but my life and yeah I am excited.

    The cooking went great, I would share the recipes and images but this isn’t a cooking show and I only would if people actually feel like commenting and giving criticisms cuz how can you become better if you’re not told hey this is where your f****** up. You know what I mean but hey if you guys want a recipe for green chile, I’ll gladly make a new post sharing both recipes for rice and chili and hell anything else if you guys really want but again dream dark stories is not a recipe site it was going to be but it’s not.

    The foods
    My Lita
    Burger Bar
    The Elders
    Uncle Bill and Baby Yomni
    Yomni (who in moments will have a fire  roasting at 900°f+)
    John Walker, my son, wife, and self.

    What’s really cool, John Walker was the main person who took photos, and though he is associated with the family due to dating one of my cousins, most of the rest just enjoyed being present. I don’t know for you if that means something, but to me there is something so profound about the family completely forgetting to take photos because we just wanted to be there for what it was.

    But luckily my green chili was a massive favorite of the family. And I took the pot clean and empty I know accord of my own.

    My family  slathered their burgers and everything else with the chili which was the highest of respects I could be honored with by my family.

    What was really fun was the three exclusive pinatas that we had for the family two of which were for the children one of which was an adult pinata. And to see what was in the adult pinata, you’d have to be there, however it was epically thrilling to see more adults run to the adult pinata than children ran to the others.

    I truly had a splendid time, and though it doesn’t look big there were a surprising amount of people there that was earlier on before everybody got the food there and the food was all cooked up, regardless we all had a wonderful time and we close out the weekend with that is truly loving being a Vega.

    C’est La Vie

    Good night and good morning, good morning and good night.

    May your night be wondrous, May the morning coming be gracious and pleasant. I thank you very much for coming once again to favor my posts and I appreciate it, I appreciate it more than you know and truly love the support shown.

    NOSCE TE IPSUM

  • Day One Hundred & Seventy-Three, June 21st, 2024

    Hi-ho and hello.

    ENJOI!!!

    The more I write the easier it comes, the quicker the collection of everything in my mind is able to go to the floor and be swept up in an ordered manner. The thing is…it’s it just more and more practice that took nearly half a year.

    But what wait, it’s not that simple is it’s im over here forgetting day after day still behind even if it’s a day, I’m still behind.

    But the writing is still easier .. jesus I just want to write pt. 3 finally, finally out of my little hole and needing to get back into the gold of my art and craft.

    C’est La Vie

    Good night and good morning, good morning and good night. May the day before you be blissful, and may that night that gently caresses you and brain dream effortlessly.

    I truly thank you for your support and continued coming back in again, Thank You.

    NOSCE TE IPSUM

  • Day One Hundred & Seventy-Two, June 20th, 2024

    Hi-ho and hello.

    Summer

    By: M. R. Vega

    Summer sun, solstice’s Moon, strawberry glamour upon the midnight air. 18 years scowling freight to be dismissed for such a demanding duration.

    I bury my head between the sheets of summer heats echoing blisters into the ears of yesteryears for me and those dead and gone.

    Clouds of citrine, and lilac, summer skin, lacquered and bronzed bring me your tenderness, lay the metal between my ears, kiss me tender, kiss me thrashing.

    Summer sun Solstice’s Moon, a Summer heat pervading the strawberry glamour that thrums at the ocean bed.

    Summer sun Solstice Moon, give me the strawberry streams of yester yonder.

    Summer sun, Solstice moon, give me a dream to be free. Eighteen Years holding for a time to shine, to say hello, eighteen years, may there be gray, wrinkle, let it weigh, take freight, eighteen years to be free, to be seen.

    Summer sun Summer Moon strawberry glamour. Paint the world in your strawberry glow, a new summer dawning. Bring it forth for me and you.

    C’est La Vie

    Good night and good morning, good morning and good night. May your day be gentle and the night, let it kiss you to the dreams of tomorrow.

    NOSCE TE IPSUM