My Battle Cry (I'm Gonna Get Ya Anyway!)
What do you think or say when you wake one morning and the first thought you think is, “I'll never wake up in a good mood again,” for no discernible reason. “Hmm, that was weird. I wonder what caused that. Maybe just had a bad dream of some kind. I really don't remember.”
You get dressed and head off to work, in my case a simple minded little deal where you run some boring machine all day that makes funny looking brushes for the steel mill; they use them once to sweep away molten metal from the floor and then pitch them. They get half burned up with one use. “Oh well, repeat business, I guess. Keeps the company going.” But the fat girl on the other machine hasn't said a thing all morning. Not like her.
The work day ends and you can't wait to get out of there. The pizza you know you will order will have to wait a few more days. Payday is this week.”Oh well, it comes to a bigger check that way."
As you walk down the street to the bus stop people seem to be baring their teeth at you. You don't think about it much-must be having one of those days all over town.
But then someone says something that seems to mean he knows about your personal dreams, but that can't be.
“You, a rock star?'
His face twists up into an ugly expression of utter contempt and for just a second you think he's going to start something. Alarmed you cringe and look away. He looks at you menacingly. You freeze. Then he laughs at you uproariously and stomps off into comfortable obscurity.
“What the hell was that all about,” you got to wonder. “Oh well. Doesn't happen often. Tomorrow things will be back to normal, I hope. Of course they will. But it sure has been strange today."
Next morning you have forgotten all about it. At Micky Dee's you order a Strawberry Danish and a glass of orange juice. The place is quieter than usual. Everyone seems to be staring at you as they chew their egg MacMuffins. You suddenly remember the guy in the street yesterday. It hits you hard. You tell yourself, “I must be getting paranoid. Better stop smoking that stuff. Seems to be catching up with me.”
When you get home you are on the phone talking to a famous rock star. You got his phone number from the telephone information operator in New York. You are pleased with yourself that your little ploy of acting like a friend of his from out of town who lost his phone number and was in a small dilemma worked. You thought New Yorker's were slicker than that. But you are going to call him just once more. He clearly doesn't want his privacy invaded.
You hang up the phone and an awful oder, a severe out and out stink fills your nostrils. You almost swoon. But it passes and you are good as new. Amazing what we go through in a day's time, you think. You turn on the radio.
Silence. For just a moment. You wait for sound and a song starts up. You can't believe what you are hearing.
“Ou, that smell
Can't you smell that smell
Ou, that smell
The smell of death surrounds you”
"What the hell," you shriek i9nside,\ "There has got to be some logical explanation." But you can't think of what it would be, try though you may.
So what do you think when suddenly everywhere you go strangers are making rude remarks to you. It goes on for weeks, day in day out. Suddenly the rock songs on the radio seem to quote your very thoughts. Sooner than you know why strangers are talking about a death sentence from God. A death sentence they say that cannot fail. They harass you constantly.
After a month or so you are starting to get mad. You are losing your patience. The problem isn't blowing over like you expected. You have been scrutinized so severely you start to feel you deserve the death sentence from God. And they keep coming at you.
What do you say to them? After all, you know you are as bad as anyone. Maybe worse it would seem. Maybe you deserve a death sentence from God. You wonder what kind of guy He is .Well, you don't say nothing. You play your favorite old song instead.
Click on the music video below, if you dare. Its from 36 years ago. I am still alive and well. That rock star? He died a long time ago.( It wasn't pretty.) I feel sad for him.
Also By Wrath Warbone
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Starstepper The Immortal Apache Medicine Man: by Wrath Warbone - Kindle edition by Wrath Warbone. Download it once and read it on your Kindle device, PC, phones or tablets. Use features like bookmarks, note taking and highlighting while reading Stars