anewsin :: Demons

I lie listening to the gentle footsteps above my head. I reach my arm out as far as I can but my hands fall short of the ceiling. In defeat, I turn my body and continue to work on my letter — my letter.

Every intricate detail, displaying a different way of destroying the lives of those who step above me. It details the knives in my back and the daggers in my eyes. It describes the blood rushing over my torso like the rain on a tin roof. It speaks of the horrors that go on in my day to day, while everyone else screams of nothing.

The angel lying next to me doesn’t know what I have planned, but they will better from my explosive finally. They will finally get their wings.

Still, I wonder; is this all just an irrational expression of inner demons? Should I seek help or guidance? Or, should I just keep them to myself and have this fire inside destroy all that I am and create a shell of a human to distraught with their own perception of life to shed the simplest emotion.

The timer ticks and I wither away into insanity.

Gone are the days of innocence. Gone are the days of bliss. If ignorance is stupidity then may I wear the dunce cap and parade around recklessly.

Heed my call and run!

Run far to the east where you might escape this torment that plagues me! I see it consume a different individual everyday.

Many of them accept their call before they explode, throwing limbs in every direction. Those who accept don’t bother anyone else due to their own containment in depravity. Those who fight back cause commotion and get taken down quickly. Though noticed, they fade. Oh they fade into such obscurity that we create stories detailing a life that never happened! We create monsters out of them when all they wanted was to hold someone’s hand.

Even art is no longer expression but has become the wretch itself. It is spawned from minds that know no creativity or sound. They come from a place fueled by desperation to conform to a world that was created to conform to a world.

We base everything on the notion that we have something physical to hold when there is nothing. Built on a dream we crumble to despair, but despair not! For we can overcome this regime! Take up the sword and shoot your way through the barricades and children. They created their fate when the world was geared to them by others. They shall be the first to be extinguished.

Short Video Notice

It is not even 30 seconds, but it serves as a notification that You’re Not Dead is being released soon. I have completed the editing, and changed some stuff around. If you are in a position where you manage distribution of text, let me know the places to get hold of you. I am kind of out of exact dates, but I assume that I will be getting the forms this coming week. Those forms will help me get my text out to the masses.

Also, if you use the YouTube subscribe aspect, I have been a little slow as of late getting new vlogs and whatnot done, but good weather is around the corner! I hope to increase releases in the next few months.

This week.

I am letting you know release dates as I learn them.

I just confirmed layout today, and printing is supposed to be starting with the book being available on Friessen Press’ website. Copies will be sent out through Amazon soon after, but distribution may take a while still.

I will state this again, in bold letters this time: I WILL BE POSTING LINKS FOR PURCHASING WHEN I GET THEM.

If anything comes up in the time before proper release, I will let you know!

The Book

My plan is to make this my last post until the release, just because information for the next week will be slow and minimal.

Yes, I am reissuing the book I released a few years ago. With that said, I am going to be more than doubling the length. I fixed so many stupid and dumb mistakes that were in the initial release. I filled out at least two chapters, and added the first year of anewsin releases (plus a couple more). The digital copy will be the same cover as the original, but the hard/soft covers will be black with white writing.

This book marks the initial release of the anewsin volumes that I plan to release every couple of years. The format that I used is a lot of fun to write, and it lends itself to releasing short stories with keeping some sort of cognizant flow.

I AM STILL RELEASING STORIES ON HERE EVERY TWO MONTHS.

The released versions will be perfected and cleaned up further than what I have on here. As for editing, I plan on using Luka’s talents for as long as I can. At the very least, she makes everything so much easier to read because I tend to ramble and get lost in my own thoughts. (Not to mention that I make stupid mistakes…)

Anyway, the next post I make will be updating everyone with links and further information.

KEEP IN MIND:
all Patreons who donate for more than two months, regardless of amount, get their names in the thanks at the end of the text!

So, please: tell everyone who might be interested! I will do my best to keep you up-to-date with information when I get it! I love you!

The Above {ANEWSIN VOL. 8 — Jason Garden}

//Edited by Luka Riot

“Why must we do this?”

A skinny girl stands smoking a cigarette in the midst of a collection of carnage. Machines pick through the gore, collecting as many valuables as they could.

A man steps forward. “You know that this is how we make our living. We need any sort of identification to prove we killed the right group. Now, hurry your smoke, Skylar. We gotta go.”

“Fuck you, Steve.” Skylar proclaims under her breath.

Several corpses litter the street around her. The smell of decay fills the air. Skylar takes one more deep drag of her cigarette and lets the smoke slowly leave her mouth. The cloud just hovered around her lips as there was no wind to replace the air.

The smell was putrid: flesh and steel flood the ground where the two stand, and it is not shielded by the elements. The area is bathed in the sun, and the temperature is sitting at a balmy 40 Celsius. Carnage as far as the eye could see.

Their job was simple. They just had to collect any valuables they could find. May that be rare metals, jewelry, or small electronics. Cellphones are the best find, as they contain a trace of gold. It wasn’t much, but it could be just enough to make the week affordable.

“I need a fuckin’ shower.” Skylar proclaims as she flicks the smouldering end of her cigarette off to the side, narrowly avoiding a machine picking over remnants of a cadaver. “Hopefully, the smell of the soap will clean the stench from my mind.”

Steve laughs. “How poetic of you! Soap. D’ya think we can afford soap? I dunno ‘bout you, but I can barely afford the water for a shower.”

Just then, an explosion behind a wall shakes the ground.

“Do you think they know we’re here? That sounded a bit too chaotic to just be construction.” Skylar asks, her expression showing mild fear.

This was the life they half chose to lead. The masses were forced underground decades ago, and a handful of people were chosen to be scavengers, looking through rubble. The corporations still feud over bits of what remains on the mainland, trying to get their hands on materials to manufacture things to sell to people so they can remain dependent on the corporations, so the corporations can exploit the masses and rape the lands they once inhabited. 

“The bombs sound close. Too close. We need to bail.” Steve is now right behind Skylar as he calmly exclaims this.

Skylar lets out a slight chuckle as her face softens. “You read my mind.” She pulls out a pad from her bra and pushes a button on the face of the device.

A small flying ship comes to their location. It has only two seats, and the full span of the wings is only five meters. The two get on and it leaps into the air. It doesn’t generate much air, yet moves with great power and speed. Skylar gets behind the steering wheel and Steve, in the passenger seat, keeps his eyes out towards the horizon.

“Did you collect anything?” Steve asks his comrade. “Your pack looks rather empty.”

“Sight can be an illusion. Size means little in this game, you know that.” Skylar takes her right arm and tosses a small satchel towards Steve. Inside is two rings and a cell phone. “We’re set for a bit, anyway. What did you find?”

“Some small stuff, but nothing this classy!” Steve’s tone is quite jovial. “We’re set for almost a month, even if we get half market value for this stuff!”

Steve puts the salvage into a bucket under the seat he is in. It clangs against a few other things that the two got from a previous venture. By Steve’s observation, they have the bucket half full.

The two of them soar through the air for a bit, keeping their elevation roughly a kilometer above the ground. They only remain at that height for a couple of minutes before Skylar suddenly drops altitude.

“I fucking hate this part.”

They enter a small cave, barely enough for their vessel to get through. It is far from well maintained. They ride the small entrance tunnel for at least an hour.

“Are the walls closing in around me, or am I just loosing it?” Skylar asks.

“You know you’re fine. You’ve done this a million times” Steve replies, sounding exhausted.

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