Bizzle and the Esses, beating back the darkness by "cleansing the doors of perception".

In him was no darkness at all.....

Not quite, I thought, passing by Dead Man's Curve, Lizzie Byrd Rd, and realizing there was something of a darkness that lingered from within with that Cheever, how is was with Bizzle, to fight back the darkness, lest he be overcome.

For a certainty, loved and loving those around, would lay down his well-being for the sake of another, a man with his heart on his sleeve, and it driving him to work against his own better interests.  Again, for certain, he loved well in his time and it was appreciated by all.

In death, only his own hand, again, fighting back the darkness, as it has always been, striving towards some sort of peace, even if it cost him more in the long run, to get popped by the Man here or there, to strive against whatever darkness it was that was trying to get his attention.

All there really is in the human perview is to leave something of a decent life, and whatever that means, "a decent life", to love well, care about others, as I begin to forsake violence, firearms, and leave my only knives in my tool shed to cut weed eater chords and open packages.

Love God.  Go behind the house with the neighbor, and all that(that's second of the Ten).

Naked prettily painted little foot digits, fat little pads then the Candy Apple teasing over the tops of those, kissing on them, and still mildly saliva wet, to breath on them, then watch them curl in delight.  A knee rises, slightly.

And in the end, I'm sitting with the slight cool washing over me, and I feel a kind of absurd thankful feeling, a kind of gratitude that there is anything at all, even at last seeing Bizzle, there was an imperfection to it all, a drug-tinged frazzle that marred the whole ting, even though he was in top jive form, and "feeling no pain".  Happy to have seen his only child, that Cheever and his own little Cheever.  

And only two weeks before, the hopeless young man waving pistols in his car.

Try not to be a problem for everyone to solve.  Again, love God, and if you can't bring yourself to love other people, don't get in their way, at least.

Years ago, they had told Bizzle about Obama.

"Yo Momma!" yelled Bizzle, rebelliously, with a kind of grin on his face that was totally happy but malicious, too, like an angel that would cut someone's throat, the complete Rebel Without A Cause, not self-possessed enough for pride, and in fact, having no assets to tie him to the Earth, no real substance to be proud, only his family, who tread along on the same current.

Click here to leave a tip if you REALLY REALLY enjoyed the post.