Troubled Soul:The Possession

Chapter IX

White Revolution

The Winter Break has come to an end, a brand new year has begun, a couple of weeks have gone by, and new beginnings are here. School is back in session and it is the grand debut of the new Jason White (under new management by yours truly). I, re-done everything Jason once was. He used to be a shy scene skater that gets pushed around by everyone. I have literally felt his pain over the years. All of that ends, because now, Jason White is an in-your-face punk who pushes first and hits last. No one, and I mean no one, will bully this soul again. Not a blemish, not a mark, and not even the smallest bruise will harm us ever again. I had to make a lot of changes to Jason’s appearance for this process. His original brown skater cut that was barely over his eyes is gone. It is now a black emo hair style that covers his entire left eye. The sides of his hair have been shaved so it’s a punk rock buzz cut in a way. Like a punk soldier in the making as he is on his way towards the frontline. Astonishing, if I do say so myself.  His brand of clothes I had to burn. Some of these things were just dreadful. I couldn’t be seen in half of these. How do Americans wear such garbage? Why wear a t-shirt that has long sleeves attached to it? It defeats the purpose of wearing a long sleeve. Plus, the sleeves are different colors and looks moronic in my opinion. I actually had to go shopping for him, because I didn’t want to speak to his caregiver. Jason now owns shirts that are black. I have to wear black. Why wear anything happy, when you have been casted out of heaven for all of eternity? I noticed Jason owns a bike when I was in his basement. It was chained to a pipe. His bike chain instantly was clamped onto his ripped jeans as a style accessory and in case I get into trouble with too many people. Besides, the silver metal chain isn’t as long as normal bike locks. Maybe, Jason found it one day and decided to place it downstairs because it was in his way? Maybe, he never learned, because his father had passed? How should I know all of this? I am a part of Jason that’s how I know. The skinny vegan I have known for some time, is now a meat eating muscle head. We didn’t have enough currency for a membership at the yokel, I mean local, gym. So I decided to go out into the woods and chop a few trees down. Jason would not stop bitching, He begged me to stop but as soon as he saw how big he had gotten, the complaints had ended. Jason saw how big his muscles got when he opened his eyes from meditation and felt something he had never felt before: power. It feels good and now we are on our way to school for our very first appearance as one.

I step inside this disgusting wasteland that is simply filled with mindless human beings. Humans are so moronic. The brilliant nature society was at the time I was alive has seriously diminished. In my day, people aspired to learn about the world and everything in it. They discovered things, invented things people take advantage of today, wrote masterpieces, and performed in front of crowds of people. These very people I lived around, dressed amazingly stylish. Everyone, and I mean everyone, wore either a lovely dress if they were a lady or a stellar suit and tie if they were a gentlemen. Ladies and gentlemen acted as such and if a man wanted to contact a particular woman, he wrote her a beautiful and elegant letter that was made by fresh ink and a quill. The writing would be superb as the cursive was wonderful in my day. People laughed, people cried, and I loved my time. But now… In this very year, everything I loved is gone. No one does anything anymore. When I was a teenager, I was part of a revolution. The most exciting thing these halfwits have seen, is a kill streak in a video game. An imaginary figment on their television screens that has zero effect on the real war that is going on. On top of that, I’m pretty sure you gain weight when you play too much of it, because I noticed I got bigger when Jason got the newest game. Was it called Modern Ops? I don’t know. It is ignorance at its finest as our youth’s brain cells dwindle every single day with these nonsensical devices like cellular phones. I look at everyone against their locker and when I lock my cold eyes onto their senseless look, they escape to their phones. Everyone in this world that I sadly live in escape into their phones and dive head first into a reality of their own. Without cellular devices, mankind has created great things. We as a whole were social when we were outside. I have watched Jason “text” his friends and “socialize” through a handheld screen. Even through a monitor at times but he tries his best not to use that after getting abused through the “internet”. This “networking” these simpleminded mortals use is anything but anti-socializing. You spend hours on a computer or a cell phone, replying to messages to people, but are you really talking to friends? You are alone in a room. By yourself, you chat with people and sometimes the person you are talking to is, what this generation calls, a catfish. A phony; a loser who has no life so he invented his own to trick mindless teens to believing in his fairy tale. How pathetic. These children waste their lives doing nothing. None of them have the mental capacity to invent anything because all they want to do is grow imaginary crops as a pretend farmer on a computer or play as a fictional criminal making money by stealing cars on a contraption that is shaped like a box. These slobs even dress awful. The word class was replaced with swag. What the fuck is swag? In my time our motto was “top hats and bow ties”. Now it’s all about “snapbacks and tattoos”. I’m looking at one boy’s tattoo. He looks like a rapper but just like every other rapper in the world, there was only one Shakespeare. Anyways, he has a bit of ink on his forearm and it says “YOLO”. YOLO? What on earth? Wait. Jason said it before… It means “you only live once”. Well I am guaranteed proof that that is false. These kids live in a flat out fucked up generation filled with nonsense. Men dress like girls, girls dress like men, innovative inventions are extinct, and “LOL” today is the lovely open letter I sent to my fiancé before I died on the battlefield. I didn’t cry out “YOLO” when the blood poured out of my chest. I didn’t look for my snapback or check my tats as my brown leather gloves turned crimson. I felt as if I was on the British, because my once blue jacket turned into a red coat. I breathed my last gasp of air on that battlefield, and I never thought of a kill streak, my status, or if anyone LOL’d. No, instead I hoped my bunkmate, who was trying his hardest to fix me up to the best of his uncanny ability, killed every Brit in site in an act of rage. That the sight of my blood would make the blood in his veins pump faster than they ever have. I wondered if I will see my father once I got to heaven. Lastly I prayed and begged God that my lover kept my offspring she carried. I cried wishing that his or her future would be brighter than mine and that my love would tell my child how I died for their freedom. These faint and sad memories subside as I realize I am in the corridor of this cesspool of stupidity and all of these sheep of trends are looking at me weird. I believe I should be looking at them that way because this is who I am. They are all slaves to what is “hip”. Shackled by the chains of what society thinks is popular. No one is who they really are. You have girls losing weight by sticking their boney fingers down their throats and you have men buying $120 pair of sneakers to impress a harlot who has $5 dollar leggings. The last time I checked that is called being a phony. Being something you’re not makes you fake, fictional, and more importantly, it makes you pathetic to try and be something you’re not because society doesn’t like who you are. Be yourself. Why buy clothes you don’t want to wear, listen to music you normally wouldn’t to hear, cut your hair a certain way or even talk in a different tone because you want to fit in? We are who we are. We are rebels. We don’t like the machine so we want to take it down. Jason hates this school, so I think it is high time that we do whatever we want and if these mindless drones have anything to say about it, well then they have their right to freedom of speech last time I checked. I scoff as I realize that I can only smile and keep my head up high as these parasites stare. I bet they have no idea who I am. They can’t recognize us at all. How magnificent. Seeing that I don’t intend on staying here very long, my only goal is to find this Eddie Black and embarrass him for Jason. The physical pain he has caused us has gone far enough. Now if I were a massive football player, where would I be? My first guess would be a football field, but I don’t think students go on that field when classes are about to begin. I believe my next guess would be in the showers with his tight end having fun with their loose ends. Other than there, I’d assume in the locker room getting his daily dose of Barry Bonds juice. I better get that chain ready if that is the case. The air is thick and cool as I search for this “gorilla”. From what I have been listening to, he is a rare breed and won’t be harmed in any way, because of the staff. I believe this ape will go extinct as soon as I find him while I walk through the halls.