Among the Living in Colorado Springs

It's voodoo, I tell you; voo-dooo, this "Among the Living" business. I force myself out of my bed and out-out of the house and into my Black Honda Accord that I've been driving for mmm 8 years-ish. Pop on the c.d. that's in the player. It happens to be Eagles. Make my way down the interstate, downtown-bound, but take the circe exit and brave the cold breeze of a packed parking lot at the local Tinseltown, deciding as I pass the dozen or so posters that I'll see Bejamin Button. Movie tickets have gone up in price yet again and I won't be able to catch the flick til 9:50 and before I know it, I made some snide quip to the gal in the box office about the price of entertainment. I don't know why that came out. I'm usually a "sweet guy". But something has been changing in me. Something horribly honest. Something akin to Wolverine. ("I got the feeling that something ain't right. Clown to the left of me, Jokers to the right. Here I am, stuck in the middle with you."-Steelers Wheel)
I head back to my Black non-Porsch and "Life in the Fast Lane greets me over the speakers; a song I have come to love over the years eventhough its about drug abuse. Now, I had choices, but why did I choose the Brad Pitt movie? Am I gay for Brad Pitt? Was it because I have a bumper sticker that reads: "What would Tyler Durden Do?" or was it because I wanted to see how hollywood handles someone's afterlife? (In Brad Pitts last film, Burn After Reading, George Clooney('s character) accidently shoots him in the face. And I don't know if you've see the movie poster for BennieButton but his face is devoid of emotion. A look you'd find in the morgue but with his eyes wide open. (NOTE: A similar morgue picture is on Will Smith's latest movie poster. What is this a trend?!) Or maybe it's because my friend Charles Sutherland recommended it and the whole thing deals with a computer animated aging proces. BTW have any of you SEEN the movie Looker? ((That's all I'm gonna say about that)) No matter the answer, I chose, I moved on. Not 100% sure of the clarity of my decision process--- which is a scary thing if you really stop to think about it.
My downtown destination is Rico's, a swanky coffee shop off Tejon street next to Poor Richard's used book store. I take the Bijou exit and pass by St. Mary's Cathedral. (I slowed down as I passed it for some unknown reason-had to get a better look, eventhough I've passed by there about a million times since I've lived in this city). I turned left into the heart of downtown Colorado Springs. The heart, I say. The Heart. There's at least one thing about this town; you know where the center is. But oddly enough that center is Acacia Park. This is where the homeless hang out, drug deals go down and skateboard youth abound! There's nothing hip about this crowd. Just a bunch of dudes lost in their own center.

-------'Scuze me a moment, my "Writing Music" ended ('Twas the soundtrack to Reservoir Dogs, now I'm playing NIN Down In It.)

Again, I get unconsciously steered from my destination. Instead of coffee, I find myself wandering into Jose Muldoon's for a sudden craving of chips and guacamole. Now how is that? From Coffee to Guacamole?! You tell me I'm not being led around by the nose from some outside force of nature. Or maybe it's that nano-chip the government had implanted in my head..just kidding, it's not a nano-chip. ...it's a chocolate chip. But hey, I'm out among the living anyway. So that's good right? Yeah, I'm Among about fifty or so people, Among them. Among! Among, but utterly alone, trying to make my life worth living in this present Limbo by pairing memories with the course of actions I am taking. A side note: Next time I think I'll go for the queso dip instead.
On the flatscreen T.V. positioned right above me, ESPN in HD has the Winter X games going on. Skiers tumble through the sky with the greatest of ease. Man, that looks like fun. But isn't it just electodes? It's not real until you're actually on the mountain. But again, I'm Among the Living. But not on the mountain with the real doers, just spending some bucks to sit alone and try smiling at the tip-anxious waitress. Pitiful. You know what's even worse? I'm writing while I should be savoring my overprices cup of guacamole! Oh the noises in this place babble of happiness, but I have yet to heard an actual word or phrase that reflects the buzz of happiness. Among.
I'm sure that has a cruel definition in Webster's Dictionary. I keep wondering, are these people part of a church group that's making them so happy? But there are just so many little pockets of them. But the conglomerate is creating the buzz. The buzz of genuine happiness. Eventhough at a molecular level the individuals are just as Among as me. But you know what? As I see them, they are genuinely happy. They are with friends. My friends are...elsewhere. In other cities, in other states, in other company. But me...yup, you know it: "Among the Living". It's a ghostly horror story. And I'm the goddamn protagonist! Oh the antagonism of it all. Can't you just taste it? It tastes like... guac.

Stick to coffee all you writers out there. Lest ye walk somnambulistically in a daze Among the Living.