paht whatever of whatever: or... the story about the samurai and ronin

"that's what tetanus is for babe"... the nonsequitor overheard today by my neighbors talking.

michigan: maybe you drink too much
bear: maybe i breathe too much... ha ha
michigan: you're drunk and i'm leaving. call me when you've sobered up.
bear: you can't leave because i'm already gone babe.

narrator: bear pushes past the other young man and having pulled open the door stumbles down the stairs walking into into the damp false dawn of morning.
samurai: (to each other).... bear is a non- issue, leave him to destroy himself
narrator: and they watched as he steadied himself and resumed a slow shuffle down the center of the street through the patchy predawn light.

bear: you know, i can hear you... in my minds eye (pressing a swollen finger to his bruised temple)...
narrator: what???
bear: your thoughts. i can hear them: resuming a slow shuffle down the street blah, blah, blah... pressing a bruised finger to his swollen temple. are your ready???
narrator: i suppose... it's highly unorthodox.
bear: it's all in the past now. everyone is living in the past, constantly. it's self sustaining. no future, no present... only the past. even as you read these words you're only really reminiscing about the word you just read last, like this one, or this one...no wait... this one
narrator: so, it doesn't matter does it? because it's already done...
bear: exactly... you've said it yourself... from many, one.
narrator: upcheck has been left for dead.
bear: he will survive
narrator: the man becomes sullen, he becomes morose... his girlfriend breaks up with him. in a different time, a different place they would have been married. she would have had a million of his babies.
bear: all of this has been written...
narrator: from many, one
bear: from many, one
michigan quietly cat leaps from the open window of the three story burn out, the building has been gutted by a fire long past since... and falls gracefully to the waiting samurai below. he falls towards the earth and the warm dry clay, kicking up a cloud of coarse smoked earth and the expectant sinewy arms of the samurai below...