“…and the countdown begins”, or “AOLAB’S crazy, crescent-shaped crawl to the Miami Art Week Bacchanal… before the “supposed” end of it all…”

How’s THAT for a mouthful of a title?

Only once in a lifetime do certain energies violently collide and create the perfect environ for doing batshit things most stupendously. Up that to ‘once in many Baktuns’ due to the whole “Mayan Prophecy/Universal Planetary Alignment/Quick! Everyone ignore that Jesus said nobody knows the day all hell’s gonna break loose!”…thing.

And THIS, my friends, is THAT time!

After two seasons in the midst of ART BASEL MIAMI BEACH/MIAMI ART WEEK madness due to art residencies in South Beach and downtown MIA, an AOLAB Spring all cross-country Hecho en Mexico, and being ensconced in Audubon Insititute project collabs in New Orleans for the past eight months…

The artist formally known as Angel Brynner, bodymind wracked with  “Not in-motion-sickness (aka “Artistically Climbing the Landlocked NOLA Walls”)” is heading outta here onto the road like this place is Jericho, straight into a pilgrimage to the 2012 ART BASEL MIAMI BEACH art mecca bacchanal.

Well…not exactly. Actually, this one is going down more like a twisted arty riff on Peewee’s Big Adventure. That’s right! Consciously heading deep in the heart of TEXAS on the way there.

“Wait-what? WHy?!”

Well… during AOLAB I’ve met so many cool artists on the road (shout-outs to the artists at The Collective) based in HOUSTON telling me I’ll know soon as i cross city limits that their territory needs to be on the AOLAB hit list, 30/60/90 day immersion-style. This brazen, happy-eyed cockiness inspired me to take a page out of Prince’s playbook- (not that page!(Ok!…granted I probably DO have whatever twisted pages you immediately Thought of tattooed on my…walls, BUT this is a family-oriented post!)-and I’ve arranged to give it a little Hit-N-Run ARTLOVE on the way to this year’s art party along the ocean.

Other spots that have made the mini-trek cut are:

AUSTIN…Because their music scene gets so much love from those rolling through the Haus that i gotta go taste and see if i’m gonna be coming back through to taste and see a bit more.& I’ve been putting off going to get a whiff of breakfast in Austin,Texas for longer than you can imagine! No clue why”bfast in Austin” tickles me so much but Dammit, I’m ready to go find out;

DALLAS …because even though I believe in Jesus more than Mayans,my Guardian Angels ARE Black Mexicans, so IF this whole 12/12/12 or 12/21/12 thing Does happen to be sort of on-point and i DON’T go and stand in a building designed by genius TADAO ANDO http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tadao_Ando before i die, i’ll spend the afterlife never letting myself live it down;

(Don’t give me that look!)

It’s a bit…goofy timing-wise, especially since i just [FINALLY]began writing Exile. &  it was going to be a bit more chaotic, hitting hotspots for quarter-days in a crescent all the way back to Miami by the night of the 6th. But I was persuaded to head in earlier for a few cool openings and parties at the beginning of art week…that i will now be giving blow-by-blows of [HERE] as we go.

SO…post Basel, in direct relation to how much Vitamin D & salty air/iodine my bodymind needs and how many jellyfish are in the south beach waves, i’ll be hitting the rest of those trek notes for slightly longer  periods on the way back into New Orleans to start on a new commission here that came about in the sweetest “Make sure you bring your ass back for your art” way.

I hope yall enjoy the ride with me as much as I plan to.


So in answer to the question “Can Angel’s roll get any more free-form than it has been for the past few years?”…we’re about to find out. And  for your listening pleasure, check out AOLAB’s pre-roadtrip song:

Think{About it) by Lyn Collins.


p.s., New Orleans has been thoroughly enjoyed and naaaaaan a sit-up has been seriously done in the past few due to the joys of Loving the food culture that is New Orleans even on a Wednesday afternoon. Dianne Brill’d be proud lol!

Where you Are. a morning meditation by Angel Brynner

i see your spirit for me in the spaces between the words you press against  my cheek in the dark, feel the strange blaze of your love as your eyes trace the curve of my lower lip from millions of miles away as i wake.

never random, replete with molecular memories already written by God for the story of Us to be, regaling me with unspeakable words of faith that no amount of logic or lack can rise up against without being comically subdued, phantasms of inner fidelity that hold my hand in yours no matter what.

i see showers of love as i come out of dreams that didn’t even feature you, not with you in the flesh at all, yet you are so alongside me each morning that even the Angels give berth to the sound and fury of your breathing steadying me into starting my day, fresh, Like God himself has given me grace to have hope in the allegory of you,alive making me feel rested, dawn by dawn.

the spectrum in my space goes from the indigo of a white room at night, to the gray of wandering  in r.e.m., your warm thigh registering against my hip through the slip and slack of dreams,  to the white of aware but not yet awake, to showers and resplendent washes of sheer pink flooding across curtains as the sun comes up again, the day itself is an afterthought to the infinity of a love, in the morn, lost in thought, yet not on me, still in me no matter what, more present than things passed. pushing me to a renewed mind no matter where you are.

beauty, in the eye of the beholder, to the mind of the beheld is nothing less than peace,love and sweet, the soft, steady victory of waking up still in love with the seed of you God has nourished within me.

“Major motions in minutiae.” thumbnails by Angel Brynner AOLAB/NOV 2012

I haven’t been explaining myself lately. Work-wise,especially. Post-Butterfly effect. Post-Madonna. Post-Koko [Exile(book four)] starting to flow. But for a little clarification:

There’s a brand new AOLAB trek coming up. In a few weeks. These images are lead-ins to that pending project prior to however these kids [the books]are going to festoon me while i’m full-on in the glow of writing them. To ensure something.

Oh yeah, sorry for the no pomp and circumstance when it came to excerpting Exile if you felt let down by the absence of trumpets this time out the box. I just got flooded with love and the baby  began riding out into the atmosphere on said wave. I was just screaming for joy in one direction. Already this child has been like no other, so it will be interesting to see what kind of arthorse her little butt opts to ride in on.

The new project is called  AOLAB/Muralismo: Micro2Macro (Major motions in minutiae).

Just going with it.There will be miles is the only heads-up i can give so far. But as usual, i Hope you enjoy the ride.


an exerpt from EXILE by Angel Brynner 11/16/2012.

by Angel Brynner.

( Copyright 2012 by Angel Brynner. All Rights Reserved. Printed in the United States of America. www.angelbrynner.com No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any other information storage and retrieval system, without written permission of the author.)

chapter five

“Her hands are covered in blood and torn flesh- I can’t see who-this was-“ the voice of a disembodied attendant boomed in the air around a seemingly discarded, lifeless body.

Another unseen aide sighed uncomfortably. “You know the protocol. Check the soles of its feet. You know this. The whorls on the soles spec the soul just as readily- all we need is proof of life to distrib-“

“No-it’s like a bomb went off in her – like they have been ripped- carved into-or-”

“You mean hacked into, right?“ The Lead Attendant snarked as he materialized next to the flickering eyes of the teenaged girl, indifferent as she unsuccessfully tried to swallow her own tongue. “You and your numbminded Overlore-“ the Lead snapped as his anger pulled the lines of the Secondary aide out of the spiritual plane and clearly into view. “Just my luck they’d assign a Thirdofa to be my Secondary!” he seethed.

The Secondary Attendant flinched as if he had been slapped in the face once again by the barrage of insults that literally never seemed to end while he tried to do his job in this so-called Heaven. He did his best to recall something, anything that had been said attending Third Council that could assist him in this moment, but came up blank. Suddenly, something older, impossibly deeper than all that he’d known to be in the Empyrean stirred within him, in a way that even he knew as it occurred was utterly illegal. But he followed it anyway. Secondary dropped his head to steel himself, sucked his teeth, looked back up at his superior and slowly turned the other cheek.

The movement inexplicably set the teeth of the Lead Attendant on edge. Disgusted by his own discomfort, he roughly grabbed the wrist of the girl and peered into the burnt and bloodied flesh torn open across the palm of her hand, which only made him more uncomfortable.

“Check its feet.” He snapped nervously.


“I said CHECK THE SOLES OF ITS FEET!” He roared.

“Nothing but glyphs, Sir-carved in, calloused over-“ the Secondary called out timidly.

“Read them!” the Lead Attendant snarled. “Isn’t that what got you here? Your so-called ability to decipher any and all-“

“I- I can’t, sir- it’s in some sort of – of wait- it’s Cuneiform?“ The Secondary aide blanched as he dropped her foot and slowly backed away from her body, looking terrified.

“This- is an encryption- Whoever or whatever she is, she’s Not supposed to BE here, and she knew it coming in-“

The Lead Attendant rolled his eyes. “What are you talking about? Cellular Encryption? Illegal Access?  You’ve been listening to the- the- This will certainly be noted in your file!” he huffed.  The Secondary took another step back.

“Are you kidding me?! You’re afraid? Of This? This lump of dead flesh? Do you not remember where you are?!” He laughed nastily and spit over his shoulder.

“..Uh~ Sir-sir-I-“ the Secondary aide stuttered as light drained from his face like a lanced boil.

“It’s a CORPSE- just like all the-“  The Lead Attendant began to yell.

The remainder of the sentence pulsed in the vocal cords that the re-animated woman-child  violently ripped from the throat of the Lead, whose shell dropped onto the floor into exactly the same position she had been discovered in by the two aides during their rounds.

“Rest-“ she purred, finishing for him.

“Sweet Mother of… “ the Secondary whispered as he dropped to his knees in front of her, both of them wet with the Lead’s spiritual blood that sparkled across her chest like liquefied rubies as she tossed his cords aside like rubbish. She danced her hand around the Secondary’s offered neck with a bemused smirk on her face and pressed her thumb gently into his jugular.

“Please.just-just-Ragnarok- S-Sweet Mother of K- Kahn-“   he whispered harshly with all the geist left within him.

The blood-soaked woman-child paused.

“Wait- What…did you say?”

an exerpt from EXILE by Angel Brynner 11/14/2012.

” Beyond the whirling worlds of above and below, beneath our deepest dreams and the cages of light that become the ties that bind, between the truth and our circumstance lies the answer to the question you’ve been running from all along.

Exodus started at the beginning of the end of the world.

Exist began behind the story of how it all came to be.

Empyrean took you where you thought you wanted to go.

Exile, book four of thegrievechronicles is when you finally just start to give because you cannot take anymore.

Point-blank: If God is…where the fuck is he in all this?

Do you really want to know the answer?

There’s only one place to go to find it. To the bottom- The Badlands. The Leuce. The heart of darkness. The wilderness. To the people and provisions made within them. Exile makes you see the whole thing. In the worst way. In order to salvage what’s left or throw it all away, for real this time. “Why?” has been asked. Get ready for “…because.”

The end of all things can’t be a beginning if you still are trying to defend your Self. Universes are born, not made. Choices are made, then worn until they wear you or themselves out. Pain might be the only proof of there being a point to life that we need.

Exile is a bullet-train ride set in a media-blitzed and celebrity-hungry apocalypse now close to our own.  Just how close to the end of the world are we, anyway?”


 by Angel Brynner.

( Copyright 2012 by Angel Brynner. All Rights Reserved. Printed in the United States of America. www.angelbrynner.com No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any other information storage and retrieval system, without written permission of the author.)

Dedication: For Love.…and the man He made watch over my pregnant ass who changed everything.

chapter one

The little girl climbed up the pillar of weathered sandstone like a fearless little monkey. Her hand shielded her eyes from the glare of the sun, but freckles popped out anyway on her amber colored skin.  Her clothes were snatches of leather, the equivalent of rags really, but embroidered with spirals and glyphs, festooned with jingling charms. The wind played with the tumbleweed tuft of coffee ground colored hair that sprawled out behind her and made the bells around her ankles and wrists ring just as petulantly as she felt.

“Calm down,” she whispered as she looked down and across the deep ravine of shimmering rock below. “We’re early. We’re always early. But it’s time…really, this time.”

“Good, because it is stuffy in here, and I‘m lonely. I want more babies.” the one still in her burlap sack mumbled, his little head hooked over her shoulder. Off in the distance crows began to circle in the sky. The hairs stood up on the back of her & her other half of self’s neck as the acrid smell of smoke wafted past, making her nostrils flare.

“See, I told you,” she whispered. “It’s time.”

chapter two

Rabble Rabble had tried to make his way back towards his house but something dragged heavy on him with every step he had made. He’d found himself walking in circles until finally he went over, popped his hood up and pushed right back through the protesters they’d been battling with earlier that morning. It felt like a forever ago to his soul. He camped out at the counter with Habib and willed the hands of the clock to move but they seemed stuck.

“Maaan, this is Hell.” Rabble Rabble growled into his decaf coffee that Habib matched him sip for sip with tea.

“I know.” Habib muttered.

“No, I mean really, it’s fucking Hell! I can’t even taste this coffee-“

“I KNOW. And It’s decaf, kid-you’re not supposed to taste it-“

“I’m sitting here Wanting to be IN School?! Who came up with this shit?”

“God knows.”

“This fucking sucks. But I know I have to-I can’t go back- I gotta- I feel like something is pulling on my fucking bones, man!“

“We all do. Just wait, kid. Enjoy the silence.”


chapter three

The woman momentarily nodded awake to the sound of water splashing in the sink below before going back under.

In front of her eyes flashed images of a guy she didn’t know roughly grabbing her by the hair and pinning her to a wall for a crossroads kiss.  The biochem stamp nicknamed DBLHELIX on his tongue activated on contact with the spliced saliva on hers. Her body pressed violently up against him as the element soaked into her system like a hard rain.

“Enjoy the ride, baby,” the unknown slurred, eyes wild by how quickly she’d crossed and made his presence unnecessary.  A shock of tenderness shot out from his eyes, startling her. The unknown flashed a confused smile full of the chaos he’d just kissed her with, she blinked and he disappeared.

Her eyes fluttered.

Again she felt the tangle of legs and arms around her. The pulse of the place careened into her repeatedly through the drenched  DBLHELIX’d bodies strung out alongside her. Strobe lights. Darkness. Bass. Repeat. Groans echoed from the tracks being spun and the bodies closest to her. She tried to focus on the eyes of the “friends” she had found in the crush. An obscenely beautiful jawbone here, just shy of bizarrely elongated limb there, Adaptives as well as Latents waiting for an Aware to bridge the gap for them, blindly faking it until they made it to a taste of whatever it was that made those like her glow so radioactively underground.

Friends who were loyal to the self-hatred woven through the entire Day-tripper dance, who really came out with her to get fucked up just to make sure she wouldn’t get away more than anything else. To keep her, under the guise of keeping her company. Latents licked at sweat as it rose up out of her pores and glowed in the half-light of the club, murmuring how it was ok, how ALL was GOOD.

“…perfectly alright to need a little help breaking free,” one slurred.

“…all in this together,” meowed another as he gently bit down on the inside of her thigh.

“It’s just…a connection with your creativity-” a wild-haired girl with dilated eyes purred.

But she didn’t hear or feel a thing and it was obvious from the deadness in her whited-out eyes that they were all still too terrified to look into at night.

Like a bored dog in the throes of play with edible things that wished she instead could be their prey, she laid there nipped by the nervous cruelty of each random caress, nuzzled with the panic that coursed through them aware of nothing else other than she wasn’t as ripe to be fed upon as she made herself look.  As for the ones who’d gotten fucked up just like her to escape the greatness that poured out of them Aware and wide awake, they lay scattered across the Bunker in the midst of their respective piles of Latents and Posers just the same, allowing their sweat to be fed upon, for things to be licked and rubbed that remained numb no matter what, pretending as best as they could that the distraction was working, in case any of their other Aware brethren would look on and see the selfsame futility in the farce tattooed across their faces, silently outted for not being able to literally be “down.”

“I wonder what it would be like with one of them instead?” She mused to herself, looking at a fellow Aware across the way, trying not to look as overwhelmed with boredom by it all as she was.

She bit down on the strange line on the inside of her jaw to make more of the drug release itself into her system, smack that somebody from the currently attending crew had given her, one she never knew. Whatever it was…it was good. It out numbed the numb, and her body arched reflexively, the mouths of those kneading at various pockets of her gasping as it instantly got communicated to them, slurring the visions already whirling in front of their eyes from proximity alone. Absently, she rose up and grabbed the head resting cagily on her inner thigh and shoved him off of her into a crumpled heap on the floor as she stood up, suddenly needing to pee.

Her eyes fluttered again.

She was back in the bathroom, the water from the faucet sounding much farther away than it possibly was, unless she was suddenly ten feet tall.

She couldn’t feel her hips, only knew that they were pressed awkwardly up against the counter, and that this time it was harder to come up from whatever she had blindly put herself under with. She tried to get her throat muscles to swallow but the command roughly came out of a near mute mouth only to fall on deaf ears. Her eyes did their best to steady themselves on her reflection in the mirror, but something was wrong. The image was too pulled together, too sleek to be her.

She angrily looked away, raking her hand roughly through the wild hair she knew that she had left the house with, hair that whatever that was in the mirror had yanked back severely from its face.

The eyes of the mirror image didn’t budge as its body followed the motion of the one prematurely calling herself “Anjuge”, one beat behind it. She looked back at her reflection, trying her best to hold onto the last snatches of purchased incoherence she’d plastered up in the front of her brain.

She narrowed her eyes at her sober self in the mirror. Her Ka returned the silent salutation, totally synched to her. It even let its hair start to slowly unfurl along the peripheral, to match the mane on the other side of the looking glass. She looked away again.

” This is bullshit-” she muttered to herself. “I know that shit wasn’t that strong-” her ears unplugged again and the sound of rushing water erupted.

“Bullshit-” she muttered again abrasively as she lurched down to splash water on her face. Her reflection remained erect, a snarl spreading slowly as each splash of water made contact with her bent over face.

Absently coherent and angry about it, she stood back up, wet-faced and visibly on edge. Her mirror image stood there stock still on the other side, defiant and dry as a bone, eyes narrowed accusingly at her.

“What the-” she choked in shock as her reflected Self rose up and through the mirror and slapped the shit out of her, knocking her to the floor in a shower of shards of glass. Blood spilled out of her split lip as she looked up at herself, bewildered.

“This is what happens when you take shit from strangers!” she snarled as she crawled the rest of the way onto the counter and loomed over her lesser Self sprawled on the floor trying to scream, to blink all this away.

“What?!” her Ka screamed, “You think you’re just going to be able to drug this shit away?! You think you can imagine it all away, go to your morbidly pathetic almost happy place after you just so glibly set me free?!” her Ka roared.

“But I- but I-” she stammered.

“Shut up!” her Ka screamed at her cowering self. “You fucking burnt me out of you with this bullshit!” she yelled as she jumped off the counter and locked the door her lesser Self had been too high to even latch when she’d entered.

“Hiding here?! Of All Places? Do you think they’re your friends?!” She howled, unable to even look at herself. “Do you think that’s why they get fucked up with you?!” she spat at herself. “No! THEY hate you! They hate you more than you hate yourself! That’s why they get fucked up with you! Because they have no access to what you have naturally flowing through you! They only get a semblance of it this way- sniveling in your sweat! And look at you!! You have it- IT- what they want, what they’d give anything for to have naturally- and-”

Her Ka took a breath as she fought to find the right words. ” They get fucked up with you to keep you there. For the taste of your sweat. That’s all it is. To keep you locked up. They tell you…you’ll all get clean together, but you won’t, they won’t, because you clean cannot be there with them- And Yet this is what you came back to! THIS is where you hide! THIS is what you choose to remember-”

“But I-” she continued to stammer softly as she cried out inside of her head to move, her body remaining motionless.

“Who do you think you’re talking to, Baby?” her Ka asked, still facing the door she had locked. “Who are you begging softly to make you move? Who have you been begging to take you away? Don’t you get it? Don’t you see?” she whispered.

“The soul you’ve been hell-bent on burning out is me- I’m what makes you move-” She paused. “but I’m not who is doing this to you, Anukai-”

The woman’s eyes got big with fear. “My name- my name isn’t Anukai! It’s-I’m- “ she gasped, shaken by the sight of her own blood seeping through the scratches all over her arms from the broken mirror.

“Not yet you’re not. You can’t be who you’re called to be until you quit doing this. If you make me burn it out of you, I will.” Her soul whispered roughly. With the tone of the last two syllables, something inside of the one on the floor shifted and she silently rose up, cracking the muscles in her neck.

“Then be ready to burn this whole motherfucker down, because I will Never be what you’re calling me to be.” She roared, yanking her Ka’s shoulder by surprise and slamming her back into the broken mirror.  She pinned her against the shards of it by her throat until, slowly but surely, the bloodied pieces of broken glass on the floor and in the numb flesh of her arms floated back up into place, sealing her sense of Higher Self behind the resituated mirror in a bloody haze with one final pulse that reverbed out like a stone crashing into the surface of deep water.

“This is what you choose to remember?” Her Ka seethed. “All right. So Be It. But THIS time-It’s MY version of this shit!” Her Ka roared.

The woman refusing the title of Anukai cupped her hand to her ear on the other side of the looking glass and pretended like she could not hear herself. She turned off the tap and smiled at her malevolent self in the mirror, tossed a middle finger up, threw the door open and sauntered back out into the club.

“So Be It.” her reflection whispered right before the door swung shut.

Her eyes fluttered again.

“Now where were we?” She purred into the ear of the one she’d left in a heap on the floor. He readily nuzzled right back in where he had been eons ago. She bit her jaw again, toes curling from the pain that rose up and faded in a surge of ecstasy loop-holing through the lower regions of her veins. She fought off the” So Be It” of her Ka echoing in her head against her will to the sound of her toy’s erratic heartbeat as treble and bass shook the underground limits of the Bunker.

Her lashes were sticky with desire for it to be more than feasting on those who thought they’d been invited to feed, not to be fed upon by Awares used to shooting in barrels, a desire that could never fill the need harbored in her. Each gasp of heat was loaded with this hollow hope of deeper, of more, of…

“Chrysalis-” she whispered to herself. Her eyes finally slid all the way closed.

“So Be it.” her Ka whispered as the entire scene spontaneously combusted into flames. All in attendance of the suddenly comatose Awares screamed as the flesh disintigrated off of them before their own eyes. Within moments, nothing was left but charred bone and ash.

chapter four

“Get off her! Get the Fuck off of her!! Move! Move!” Bishop roared barreling over as some of their classmates huddled around Anukai’s body on the floor. Shards of glass rained down in slow motion all around them, slicing through clothes and skin as they screamed, diving for cover.

“Did anybody else get hit?!” Jimi screamed as the entire class careened into one another on the floor checking, including Harvey.

Jezreel yelled ”She’s not bleeding-why the fuck is she breathing like that?! What the fuck is going on?!Anukai!! Anukai wake up! Wake the fuck up!”

Bishop pushed up against him and they locked eyes. Bishop popped his head up and saw for the first time the press he’d always felt around her when he’d been trying to mess with her as they stepped out of shadows, armed to the teeth.

Give her here. NOW.  The leader roughly ordered Bishop from inside his own head as the retinue pressed along the perimeter of the room.

“Do you-do you See that?!Them?!” Bishop whispered to Jezreel, who gawked at them just as openly.

NOW!!! The Angel ordered again, as he took a step towards the two of them, weaponry raised. Harvey stood up in front of the pissed off Angel and looked up into his eyes with no fear.

“Holy- oh my God!” Jezreel hissed, clearly able to see the Terrifying Deity glaring down at the woman who’d been their playful nemesis for years as she stopped them from being smote.

“You can’t DO this-“ Harvey seethed. The Guardian went to brush her aside and Harvey’s eyes whited out just like his as she narrowed them balefully. The other Angels policing the glass peppered room gasped at the teacher’s de-cloak.

“THIS is My territory- I Don’t CARE what fucking orders you and these cowardly minions have been given! You have NO Dominion here! And you will not touch her on these grounds! It’s always the same! Your so-called Protocol! You think we’re not prepared for your cowardly kind?!” Harvey snarled.

“You! Red! Blue!- Tone! Jimi-all of you! WAKE UP! NOW!” Harvey snapped. ”I said NOW!” The scales from the Latent eyes of the rest of the Art & Music Boyz fell off as she called out nicknames they didn’t think she knew of as they catapulted up into Aware status and saw the spiritual battle trying to pop off on the sly in English class. “Elastic! Up! BALLAST! Now!”

“And Don’t you fucking move, you fucking Anhk! Step the fuck back now! That’s a fucking Order! You’re in MY territory! My fucking laws! Step BACK! “She roared. “More! Don’t make me-“ Harvey stepped forward towards the Angel who moved back.

“Bloc! The Law! Stop gawking and get the fuck out of this classroom NOW!” Harvey roared.

“DO what Harvey says! Do what she says, man! Holy Shit!” Jezreel yelled. ”Yo- yall! Tone- get the fuckin door- come on! Guys! Come the- cover the-”

The Art Boyz swarmed her, Viet Cong style, shielding her body as they slammed out into the hallway and bashed their way into the English teachers lounge down the hall.

chapter five

Fairman looked up blasely from sipping his coffee as the ones who’d made his last year a pain in the ass barged in and placed Anukai on the couch. “She out?” he asked calmly.

“Yeah!” Ballast barked as Bishop stroked her cheek and snapped his fingers in front of her face.

“what the -what is happening,man?!” Bloc yelled.

“Harvey?” Fairman asked in a bored tone as he folded his hands across his happily rotund belly.

“She’s toe to toe with some sort of-“ The Law stammered, still trying to grasp what he’d seen.

“Got it,” Fairman said casually as he drained the last of his coffee, looked at a picture of his ten blonde and red headed kids and his wife, stood up and pulled out a sawed-off shotgun from the bottom of his bookshelf.

“WHAT the FUCK!?’ Elastic yelled. Fairman cocked the gun

“I mean- sorry Fairman-“

“Yeah! Sorry For EVERYTHING!!” Ballast chimed in nervously. ”We were young!!”

“Shut up.” Fairman muttered like a man with ten kids at home as it was. He stroked at the angry calm sweat breaking out along his hairline.

“Law-“ he tossed the gun to the biggest of them and all the boys winced, diving for cover as the Law clumsily grabbed it just before it hit the floor.

“He’s a pacifist, man!” Elastic yelped. ”You can’t just throw a sawed-off shotgun at a pacifist! Frankly Fairman, that’s a tad racist! You give the gun to the biggest black kid in the room? Really Fairman? Really? He’s just posed to genetically know what to do with it?”

“What the hell!?” Tone yelled as Fairman pulled out another gun, then tossed another at Elastic.

“He loves her.” Fairman said calmly. All the breath in the room got sucked in at the same time in silent shock.  “Law? Kill anything with a face you don’t recall that comes to this door. You know who belongs here. They’re trying to drag her all the way down to Hell from our Fields.”

” Bloc- you & Bishop smash the literal hell out of anything that tries to come through those windows.” Fairman turned “Go tell Viancourt we’re under attack.” he snapped evenly to Elastic. “You go tell Vitanza,” he ordered Ballast after tossing another gun.

“You want me to approach Vitanza. With a Gun in my hand? Did you not hear what went down this morning-” Ballast fussed.

“Do it. Or we’ll all be dragged into Hell in like ten minutes.” Fairman said calmly. He scanned the room. ”Rest of yall? Harvey picked you for a reason. Suit the fuck up. We’re going to war.”

He hit a switch on his wall and rack upon rack of spiritual guns and ammo folded out of bookshelves, cabinets, and tables.

“Sonafa- no wonder they never wanted us in here!” Tone hissed.

“I thought they were just smoking!” Jimi laughed nervously.

“Suit up!” Fairman yelled then walked out the room calmly.

“Where are you going?” Jezreel hissed after him as he wound bullets around his suddenly bare chest, Commando-style.

“To buy us some time.” Fairman growled and shot out an overhead light down the hall,making the Boyz and all the kids in every non-soundproofed classroom on the third floor hit the deck, being Cleveland and all.

“And put your shirt back on, Jezreel.” Fairman called out over his shoulder,exaperated. “These motherfuckers actually eat flesh.”

The Art & Music Boyz looked at each other, eyes unsealed, but still shell-shocked. Fairman cocked his sawed-off again as he walked so it echoed down the halls and the Boyz jumped into action.

Spiritual Gravy/ a Sound. Tracked. by Angel Brynner.

Fantasy football style full-on ultimate concert set-list ever so easy to artistically flow to:

  1. Sitting on top of the world
  2. I cant be without you
  3. Sister
  4. The Resurrection
  5. Can we find a reason
  6. Everything
  7. Take Time
  8. Baptized
  9. without you
  10. thinking of you
  11. Beyond the 7th sky
  12. Good Morning
  13. In the Black
  14. Battlefield of Love
  15. You were in my heart
  16. Believe IN me
  17. Lets get High
  18. God save us all
  19. Come on get it
  20. It’s your Life

What can i say? He can write. Bulldozer from the Matrix style lol. All the amino acids essential to artistic expression are embedded in his words & banging on pots & pans. & freckles.