140 Posts, Living Single.

I have started a new chapter in my life.

With it I close this book,
as I have done before.

Now I open a New Journal.

Fall out part 3

He looked at the woman again, and he realised who she was. He knew her name was Darcy, and that she worked over in accounting. He wondered if she had fled here after the first hit.

The first sign of war was in accounting. It had started slow, so no one noticed until it was too late. Later when things had calmed down, they figured out what happened. Someone had been changing numbers. At first it was small things. On one page a 5 became a 3. On another a 4 became a 14. Then more and more, untill the whole system was infected. Some of the work that was being changed, was also being coppied in to the computers. Once the first computer read enough of the faulty numbers it went beserk, and then it spread to all the systems. Some thought there had to be a mole. Someone working from the inside. Giant streams of ink and huge piles of torn paper littered accounting for weeks as they evacuated.

The workers were demoralised. They had to shovel mass resignations, burn infected piles of paper, and the ink, that was the worst. Anyone who has ever had to scrub ink off a cubical would know that. Dripping from chairs, covering keyboards. Just looking at the state of things and someone could tell that it must have been horiffic. If one were to try and imagine it they could almost visualise the scene in their head. One persons computer would go, papers would start jaming; pencils breaking. Coppiers and printers would start malfunctioning and then the ink would come. Spirting out like blood. Spurting from coppiers, pc printers, hand held priniting calculators, any thing and everthing with ink, just boiled over. The image would be burned in to the minds of those who saw it for the rest of their lives.

Then it spread. First to payroll, then HR. It spread every where, and didn't slow down. Finaly it hit Shipping, then Receving. Once it hit Public Relations it was all over. At least the first attack. Nothing after the first assault could really be called an attack. It was more like fallout from the first attack. The losses in every department slowly built up. With each loss, they would get further behind. Late paychecks, dammaged deliverys, the devistation was insurmountable. Now there were few left. Those who stayed were mostly just too subborn to quit. "Die hards". There were also the destitute. Those with no place else to go, trudging along to the slow pace of manual type writers and hand held staplers, but it was better then nothing.

That ray of hope promised by the Man No Longer Under the Desk was like a shining light in a pitch black world. Soon they would find reprieve.....

Some times you feel like a....nut?

"Some times you feel like an ass, some times you don't."

Every now and then I get caught up in my own self doubt in reguards to the "advice" I despence. I am, by far, not the smartest or most sucessfull person I know. Yet I still try to speak my mind when I can. Sometimes I feel like an intrucive ass after the fact... But what more can I do then try.

I got a text message last week. It said,

" Dear sir,

Your account ballance is low, and in danger of defaulting to Virgin status. Please refuck as soon as possible to avoid unsatasfied partner charges.

Thank you,

Your friends at
Department 69."

In truth I got this message a mear day after refreshing my account, "whew cut that one close" Over the weekend I decided I should add some additional refuck to my account, and depleeted more then half of my condom stash. You might say I am extreemly more relaxed then I have been in a while. I am also a bit sore. It's been a while since I used some of those mucles, or stretched in quite that way....

"God am I a slut?"

"No billy. I think it's time we had a chatt about the birds and the bees. You have a particular skill. A satisfied partner, makes other potiental partners envious. With you it's just that.... Well trying to sleep with you is like cutting soft warm butter, with a hot eletric knife. It's rather easy."

Well no unsatisfied partner charges here.

Fall out Part 2

".....There is. But we have to use it at the right time or it will be for naught."


The next morning woke to the silence. The calm after the storm. The Man Under The Desk stood up. The New Comer was lying there, asleep, with trails of salt from his tears, stuck to his face. The Unknown Voice had fallen asleep where she lay, and looked cold. The Man No Longer Under The Desk took off his suit jacket and layed it over the woman. Looking around at the office he knew things were bleek.

Space

A pin prick of light. Imagine. Nothing around it. Just a small pin prick of light. It gets closer. As it closes the distance, it gets bigger. Now it looks big enough that you could hold it in your hand. A small disk. Closer. You can make out vague details, A blur here or there. It seems so close, but when you reach your hand out to touch it, the distance is insurmounably impressed apon you. Slowly it becomes huge. The image before you is hardly a few feet in it's diameter, but it looks so much bigger then that. Closer. You see clouds, Water, and land. Closer. Your view is suddenly full and you can see nothing else; the vast blackness is gone. As you draw near the surface; you are struck with awe at how enourmous it is. Closer. Now you see houses, as if small miniture legos. It gets closer. Now you are standing at the base of one of those legos. The structure in front of you fills your view. You look up and the sky seems so far away. The smallness of yourself consumes you.

Fall out....

Chapter one.
"To order Pizza, or not to order Pizza, that is the temptation."

He sat, breathing heavy. The desk He was crouched under was dusty, and torn. Someone, he didn't know who; anymore, spoke to him.
"That was our last one." The unknown voice said, crouched and peering around a cubical wall. He knew that ment they only had one coppier remaining. They had to do something. They couldn't take much more of this attack. All the maintinance personell had been dead for a long time. Without them things had fallen apart quickly. The equipment was always breaking down and with out somone to fix it, things fell apart quickly. Their paper supplys were running low and were short on ink. The faxers had been the first to go, and then the printers. They had lots of printer ink. They sometimes dreamed of ways of making it work with the coppiers. Then there would be some kind of reprieve from this maddness. A tall man, in a suit too small for his size, dived in to the cubical, as a loud explosion was heard. His suit was raggy, dirty and tattered. His face looked like a man on the brink of falling apart.
"They're all gone."
He said, and then he looked like He was going to cry. The man under the desk qickly reached out and smacked the new commer across the face
"pull yourslef together man!" He said, "We can't loose it now, there's still a chance!".
The new commer looked dumbfounded as he said
"but all the printers are down, the faxes have been out for weeks, we lost our last electric hole punch today, and that explosion you heard was our last electric stapler; what else is left?!" He demanded.
"I thought we already lost the staplers?" The man under the desk asked; curiously.
"We were trying to fix it. Then Bill put too many papers in at once. He was working too fast and got sloppy. Because of it we lost a ream of paper and some pen ink too. Bills gone, he couldn't take anymore. He just....just....." His voice trailed off, as it broke, and the new commer started to sobb. The unknown voice behind the desk finished his sentance for him. "He just.... walked out. I thought you said there was still something left?"
The man under the desk took some time to let it all sink in before answering
"....

Mountian air.

This morning reminds of deep winter.
Riding through mountianous steep roads.
Snow iced to everything;
as I carve paths to my destination.
The chill air bites at my face;
stings my nose;
crisps my lungs;
The steam rises off my breath,
and disapates in the cold.
The chill exertion
and sharp inhale
of falling down hill.
My ride brings me home,
safe, cold, and happy.

My solitude.

There are days when I want to live alone.
Soft music plays in my clean, sterile bachelor pad.
A sparse, clean, empty feeling in every room;
echos the calm peace of my serinity.
My clean car resonates of singledom.
The dried flowers hanging from the window,
remind of breif encounters;
bodys passing in the night.
A dinner here,
a late movie there.
Calm, empty, peace.
Simplicity


It is too lonly here.
It is too messy there.
I do not want to be anywhere.