JaNglY MaN

Sorry.


I've got too much going on right now: I'm working too hard, playing too hard, living too fast. A rat on the wheel.
I shall endeavor to slack more in my next life. After all, a gilded cage only seems to hang higher from the floor.
Meanwhile ---
If anyone knows where I can find a paper parachute...

I'm having one hell of a time getting to the set of final submissions I want to post here. I had wanted to burst them open for you this weekend - as 90% of the work has already been completed. It's just formatting, now.
But there's just no time.
No time to do it right anyhow, and I am so very particular.



I'll give this one up though; JaNglY MaN.
I had planned to submit it with the others, but .. hmm... I don't mind.

It's actually a song - and these, the lyrics.
As I was finishing it, I sang it aloud for my <3beloved<3, pounding out it's *stop/start/stop* lopsided rhythm on a desktop as I let the melody glide from between my parted lips.
As the sound filled the air, I watched her grow slack-jawed and doe-eyed and I felt the song come alive between us. It was as if a sweet but poisonous gas was wafting through the room.
I found myself both affirmed and aghast in the knowledge that there are so many beautiful ways to being something frightful.

As the song bridged, I imagined myself standing up and spinning -- in the blink of an eye -- transformed into a shadowy, elongated figure. I danced; dark hued and grinning with macabre delight, my angles and elbows protruding from the cuffs of my pin-striped suit. Even as I waved my boney hands before her grimaced adoration-encrusted face, she did not blink.. although a soft sound (like someone being strangled) issued from her pursed lips.
My own voice, now flowing deep and whisper-etched, wrapped itself around her smokily.
An enchantement of sorts.

They say the devil has beautiful eyes.



These are the lyrics to my song.
I wish that you could hear it. But maybe.. it's better that you don't.



Anyhow; sooner or later - the inevitable . When I can get around to it.
But for now, this.

It's not written to anyone. It's written for Everyone.

<<-----------+----------->>

oh wait... and ending to that little tale? Yes. Of course.
Well ~

When the song was done and I had wound back into my mortal form again - my love sat up in her chair as if she'd just awoken, startled from a dream. She tilted her face downward, looking up at me with practiced intention.
" Wow..." she smiled, pushing back her butterscotch lockes from the edges of her face
".... that was incredible".

During my rendition her composure had slipped; now she was sitting awkwardly ~ her porcelain legs quite parted and the toes of her heeled shoes pointing enticeingly inward. Her hands dangled dangerously in her lap.
I took all of this this in with a knowing fascination.

" You liked it ? Good. Do you know what it was about ? " I asked, stepping closer than before.

Her gaze drifted to the ceiling in a introspective gesture as she tried to fabricate her proper response.
Beautiful women often have large expressive eyes. Hers are blue.

" Yes.. I think so. It was about some ...like.. singer or something who was using his songs
to wind people up. Somehow. I don't know. But ... It was really dark. "


There was a soft flicker behind my slanted eyes. I'm sure it went unnoticed.
" ...of course, darling. That's exactly right. You.. my dear girl, win a prize. "





Later that night, I filled her lips with milk and honey.


"Sweets for the sweet." says the Jangly Man with his crooked smile, and his lanky crooked stance. I know he's right.


Her eyes are big and blue.







-Tivius Magnus.





[[ Accompanying image is the album cover photo from
Marilyn Manson's Smells Like Children . ]]