Jacob Louis Buckley
Bio
Hi, I'm Jacob. I'm an artist.
instagram.com/jacoblouisbuckley
Jesus Christ Is God.
Stories (2)
Filter by community
My Everlasting Future As A Writer
Never thought I’d be 23. Doesn’t seem like an age anyone considers. Damn near said ‘BEND’ to a Drippy King. I can’t contest with the mounds of Hollister dogs barking at horny ghosts. I just stray black and wear my picket fences out behind the dog-pound — shock-collar a few hoes and stay as focussed on my money as I can. Seems like a not-to-do list? Our life of constance really must’ve taken so many lives over time here on Earth. I think the amount of suicide built around depraved individuals seeking another way — something else worth something more — an emotion that doesn’t come with baggage… I thought about my dead friend today. ‘Why’ never crossed my mind — I only thought to tell him that we’re still suffering here — still striving — still trying to make it better. I’m sure he’s somewhere worth his time. Somewhere not wasted. That inherent threat that Death carries isn’t more than someone shouting for curtain call. Then the curtains raise and the whole world is watching. You perform and when the show is over — the story has been told — you walk off. Maybe go get some food or drinks with friends, maybe go home to your lover for a hug, maybe walk the streets alone dreaming ‘that show never ended.’ It’s a personal preference universe. Something each of us take into consideration when we awake day by day; what’ll it be today, Doctor? Something new? The usual? I try and not pay attention to the crowd so much nowadays. Every performer needs intermission… and so does the audience! Time to get popcorn and a drink. Quarantine doesn’t even create fulfillment. Those that pray for the audience though won’t step out when it’s time for a quick change. I call sickness! I call depravity! My witched dreams full of crucifix and seasoned bread spoiled water. My body is quiet and my mind is curling. Day by day the Doctor says, “Hold.” I find no time to relapse. I find the same audience as yesterday. Waiting to be amused, made to laugh, to giggle and forget. Just for a moment. A springtime virus to be held for ransom. My sickness hasn’t passed. Only another day on the stage that leaves at noon. I had a good day to start. Only when I arrived at my car to find I had a parking ticket.
By Jacob Louis Buckley5 years ago in Futurism
