Guerrilla_Physics Close

Time-capsule tell of a normal Earth-prince life colored by a Martian-exchange for controls/consciousness concerning sovereignty and stripe.

Alien tale. Happy Tuesday, 

DISCLAIMER: This work of creative fiction contains images/references with no ties to any person(s)/body (e.g., Royal Farms) and is cast as purely a 'personal' expression for social art (for 'open' interpretation). 

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Let me tell you of my incomplete-bureaucracy arts IQ-examination in my Homeland-Jersey area (Earth), where I worked as a junior-hockey league coach and service/gas station attendant/clerk for my weekly upkeep and personalized Selfie-culture interests following the completion of my college studies (psychology major) and living with my working/single mom (Nina) in a town called Echelon, reflective of any small suburbia area of shoppers, diners, pedestrians, and patriots (Selfie-like).

This isn't an incomplete-bureaucracy tale of my life in Echelon but a visitation by an adversarial dragon, a Xenomorph-alien (Mr. Endymion), a monarch of his insect-reptilian acid-consciousness race of invaders/nihilists, who demanded I prove proof of calm intelligence-thinking for capitalism stabilization 'consciousness' for objectivity, both as a sports-coach in the States and a service-station worker with arms of reliability standards for human life delivery/focus/materialism (damn).

ENDYMION: You have some chess-stalemate reflective thinking for your role on Earth?
ME: I consider myself a normal bureaucrat for structured IQ in American life, Martian.

ENDYMION: You assume I'm hiding in Mars, but perhaps I've taken self-exile status here.

ME: You're in the Earth ocean deep abyss (somewhere?).

ENDYMION: You said it...your work with hockey-and-petrol is suburbia-collection, human.

ME: We've already played chess, and we've reached stalemate-certificate, Martian, yes?

ENDYMION: I wish to confer with you therefore for your Rationalism in moves/lifestyle.

ME: I can see you're intrigued by notion/image of the 'art' of humanity-intuitions (fiction?).

ENDYMION: Write about me (online); some alien-tale about an ocean-dweller with chess-smile.

ME: Selfie-like (good!).

Wow, Endymion (the Martian?) inspired much, while hacking into my secret/private cyber-portals for that 'chess-examination agenda' for Earthling intuition(s) for the Ego (damn). I wanted relief and escape from such deep-thought and decided to write that story about him (the dragon!), in this time-capsule image-rich retelling for future world archaeologists to make for 'discovery' of my Selfie-age of life-linked incomplete-bureaucracy arts for Rationalism/beauty/workshops. I decided to visit a newly-opened diner on Saturday's Eve when I decided to write this time-capsule and met my future-wife (Ezzy), but I kept the dark secret, for Endymion, for this time-capsule, for leviathan/uncertainty/fiction.

EZZY: A field of multicolored soldiers of varied origins for Devil's Night play, man?

ME: I guess I've become a war-diagrams fanatic...perhaps inspired by a Martian, darling.

EZZY: That's a stranger comment...for the Ego (ok).

ME: Let's just say that our love is strong; and you believe that I could go wrong (ok).

EZZY: Cool.

That's my account/faerie-tale, and it's incomplete but truth (damn). I consider myself (now) a grown, adult, settled, mature American Homeland citizen and recount what my mother (Nina) advised with shrewdness when I was a boy, reading alien comics and playing sci-fi video-games (Genesis)..."Never ignore the darkness of a human worldliness, son (for the doubt)."

"Doing well is the result of doing good. That's what capitalism is all about" (Ralph Waldo Emerson). 

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"Money is everything" (Ecclesiastes)