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 |  Subject: Enter The Night - Leave The Day  Mon Mar 19, 2012 9:40 pm | |
| .: THE KEY :.
Normal text is narrative; itallic is Marcus King
To begin the week; the first day is Monday where at the beginning of the day, average people wake up early, and then they do their typical family man routine, and then end their day by going to sleep early. Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday have similar daily routines, although they don’t really have as much of the excitement factor as Monday did. Friday however… That’s an entirely different story. Friday; the man wakes early as usual and he does his customary routine but in the midst of the day; that man snapped. He swore at his dictator and he escaped from his horde, and soon was nowhere to be found. This spontaneous moment of madness is usually a test for his noble clansmen, and it raised a dozen of difficult mind-boggling questions, the most important one being.
“Will they follow?”
If they were as loyal as they claimed to be, then surely they shall follow him and meet up with him. They would have to meet him late at night; he was frantic about being seen in public. Alas, nobody arrived, and the common man was left alone in his den, just stargazing in his seat; alone forever, forever alone. By the time that a week had passed, realism became. He realized that nobody would follow him, and he decided to head back to his original routine, where he would be watching others falsely serenading their higher authority; expecting a reward for their untrue patriotism. Only a select few were true to themselves - refusing to associate themselves with the pack – as they decided to follow their own vision, similar to the common man’s vision. These suckers don’t understand everything though. An honourable shinobi is admired by his compatriots, but it’s not about honour or integrity. No. It’s all about the power. Not the power where one controls a sector; not the power where one holds a black secret over a dishonest individual, but the power of words. One only has to be defiant, to gain everything which he desires.
“Money shall dance in my wallet freely
Who needs independence when you have a fan base
Fame is never eternal as you have to keep re-inventing yourself
Notoriety shows one’s craving for negative attention
But likeability was never one of his strong points
Where goes his followers.”
The common man only wanted to be adored; to be positively spoken of. When an honest man with true value is being thought about, he wanted to be that man. However, he lost himself in the crossroads of hell and he… he became the very thing which he swore to oppose, as he became a follower. He laughed at generic jokes and he participated in secret roasting, and participating in barbaric verbal assaults on the innocent verbally disabled.
“Why, is the first thing that springs to our minds?”
He only wanted to be relevant and he wanted to be highly regarded by his so-called peers; he wanted to be trusted by dishonest scum and he wanted just five valuable seconds where he would be the topic of the conversation. The common man began doing favours for the group of outcasts, but there was something politically incorrect about all of this. They were just like him as they too were followers, as these people relaxed and sat back, to watch the commoner please everybody by earning ill-gotten gains. What separates him from the group?
“Redemption is what separates him from the horde
He no longer wishes to be like them
He doesn’t want to be like those sheep
He wants to find his voice
Mentally scarred by his actions
It is time to break the silence”
These men and women were apparently the most honest of the world, and apparently did nothing to make the lord frown. They would act in such a callous way, where their secret offenses became blatant offenses. Everybody at first was so cagey – looking over their shoulders, trying not to be discovered in the midst of violating themselves – by acting in a way so shameful, that their parents never deserved to look upon. As weeks progressed; they eventually realized that they are all the same. Random acts of violence, publicly humiliating those who opposed them, physically and mentally decimating innocent bystanders, and finally. The commoner realized that this isn’t his way of life. He doesn’t wish to involve himself with such profane packs of wolves, the type of wolves that make you want to curse them whilst alone, by when you’re with somebody else, you watch what you say. Biting your tongue; every time that you’re about to swear at them, remembering that this is a small world. And just one bad word, could lead to your demise. The common man didn’t take any notice of the repercussions of mentioning the judges’ name in such vulgarity, the consequences being extraordinary, and a punishment which no normal human being could withstand. The consequences became obvious, as they – the consequences – were that he must observe his own story unfold. He would witness the first chapter of his own downfall.
“Actions are faces, words are scars.
Time for me to showcase my scars
Marcus King lives with those scars
Marcus King earned those scars
Marcus King provoked those scars.”
An insurgency is an organized rebellion aimed at overthrowing a constituted government through the use of subversion and armed conflict. However, perhaps the insurgency is what needs overthrowing. Marcus King plans to make most of every single day of his life, as he withstands the physical and mental punishment that he shall receive; courtesy of the insurgency. Every Monday marks the day to hide, as does the rest of the working week. But then comes the weekend, where King definitely feels far more comfortable. Awakening in the midst of the night – Marcus King stalks the homeless and – he feeds on his prey in a way that nobody believed was possible. The lectures were no more. They became… weapons. Marcus King; long live. |
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