» chemistry of a car crash; o p e n .

[caine davin seymour]

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Another frickin day in paradise. For somebody who could be described as slightly misanthropic, the crowded park was a peaceful place. It was the type of place that you could get lost in, that you could be invisible among a lot of people. It was nice when it was nearly empty also, but you lost that anonymity that you got with the crowds. There was a bench near the edge of the park, underneath a tree. The leaves moved willingly with the slight breeze and all Caine could see when he looked up were those leaves and the blue sky behind them. The shade protected him from the sun's rays, with his skin type he would burn easily and be cherry red in no time. One had was behind his head to support it, lost in the mangled mess of his dark hair. His other hand brought a cigarette to his mouth where you would see a small smoke cloud every time he took a drag of the tobacco. There were many people in the park, none of them noticing him, if anything he could have sat up, wrapped his belt around his upper arm and brought out a needle and spoon and nobody would have noticed a thing. Not that Caine would have done that, what else were bathrooms for? There was probably some homework to do, as some diligent students were doing, or something he was supposed to be doing, but he didn't want to.

Some miracle or act from above had pushed him through so many credits and units to his senior year of college. College was basically just a place for him to party and relax and waste time, what was he supposed to do after that? It had taken him three years to get back into school, what the hell was he supposed to do when he got out? Another drag from the cigarette. Lately, he'd spend so much time thinking that his cigarette would smoke itself and he'd end up smoking three for the amount of nicotine one had. Why wasn't he home? At home he was safe, away from people and with his drugs. Yes, he was a drug addict and though he called it mainly a habit for a long time, Caine had learned to accept that he had a problem and would live with it for as long as it wanted him to. His poisons were mainly pills, but really what he could get his hands on. Another drag and he realized that if he didn't pay attention he'd be smoking the filter. Removing his trance like gaze from the tree branches and clear sky he put the butt out on the side of the concrete bench, letting it drop on the sidewalk. Now it wasn't his problem anymore.

He kept support behind his head and his other hand rested on his stomach. Oh yes, another day in his world that he figured was always going to be hellish. There were some good times, he could remember a handful, but the majority that clouded his mind were sad and gloomy. Like those perfect pictures of families on the mantelpiece that were disgustingly perfect, there was no such thing as perfect. There was such one picture of Caine and his family when he was seven, all young siblings with smiling faces and his father appearing to beam brightly with pride in his family, his mother's expression sad despite her beautiful smile. And then before he knew it, she was dead. Lately, the trend was down. Caine often referred to these trends in his life as if he was watching the stock market, might as well be, he was in his own depression. His best friend was gone, they had been friends for a few years and he had actually had a good relationship with her at least when it was platonic. It took one night of drinking and getting high to make it physical and more talking and mistaken words to make a relationship and then hearts got broken. Caine had his share of relationships in the past, a couple meaningful ones, this one he decided would be the one that got away and he had messed up. There were sacrifices he hadn't wanted to make and hence it was his fault it all fell apart so quickly.

He sighed at the memory and recurring thought. For certain he could say that he had loved her she had loved him, but things happen and then you move on, right? Caine sat up on his bench, reaching his hand into his pocket to check his vibrating cell phone, it was Cassie, his sister and the youngest sibling. Declining the call he put it back in his pocket, now was not a good time for a lecture or whatever she wanted from him. Instead, he scoped out the slightly less crowded park and wondered how long he would linger here in his shady corner, the park was boring during the day.

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i t 's a l l c h e m i s t r y o f a c a r c r a s h

[Chess Lincoln]

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IS MORALITY REAL TO ME?

The weather channel had said that today would be an exceptionally nice day. It was something I simply knew I’d have to take to my advantage. When I woke up, the sun was shining through the little window onto my pale skin and it was actually pretty nice. The whole waking up to sunshine. It was almost like I had to do nothing. Not even study; which I didn’t even care about today. Today would be about self-sacrifices and self-creation. I was all about sacrificing the classes I had today for a whole day in the sunshine where I could practice my drawings and inspiration. It sounded lovely, didn’t it? I thought so. I reluctantly got up with the sun shining down on me with a smile the entire time. I got dressed and all put together before snatching my tablet and pencils and heading out into the world. I went to the little coffee shop and got a small latte and sat in a booth myself, looking for some inspiration. Oddly enough, I just sat down and looked out the window to see a tiny little finch. Instantly, I took a sip of my coffee while observing the little creature before beginning my little detailed drawing. It looked lovely, down to every little feather detail. Needless to say, I was proud. Eventually though, I couldn’t find anything so I grabbed my coffee, tablet, and pencils, and left the little shop to head out to the park.

Why not? I thought silently while I made my way there. I finished my coffee and tossed it in a garbage bin as I walked toward the gates. I was having a hard time finding the little inspiration I needed. I took a deep breath as I stepped inside and got funny looks from parents and their children. Yes, I was covered in tattoos and absolutely fell in love with my little gothic girl style. I couldn’t help that much though, you know? It was me and I felt perfectly fine being me. Even though I felt uncomfortable at times with the odd looks like I was a satan worshipper. At times I believed I was. It was whatever to keep my mind in a good state. I was comfortable at least, right? I walked along the sidewalk coming across a little fountain of an angel with its hands together in the praying stance. I quickly sketched up something similar to that but with bat wings. It was pretty interesting of a tattoo idea, and I began to find myself in love with it. I continued on until I found this gorgeous tree that was dancing to the music of the wind. The thought made me smile if I could capture exactly what it was I saw. It would be difficult and time consuming but I would try my hardest to do it. I found this bench that sat across from it with an interesting looking person on it. I approached simply and tried to seem friendly but not in a ‘oh hia there, I want to be your best friend!’ kind of friendly. I simply just stood there for a second with my tablet and pencils in hand and looked down at the guy. “Hey, mind if I take a seat?” I waited merely five seconds before taking a seat despite what he said. I was just that kind of person, I suppose. Doing things without being supposed to. I just did them. Which was probably why I ended up getting into so much shit.

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CAN I BELIEVE IN WHAT I CANNOT SEE?

word count; 598 - my muse could be better. I apologize! D:
outfit; here.
tagged; caine seymour
notes; shes such a loser ;D
inspiration; loser – cute is what we aim for

[caine davin seymour]

Caine felt dazed and almost didn't notice when he was asked a question. She was holding all these things, drawing things. So, he could understand why she would go the the park and sit here where she could observe almost everything in here. Before Caine could respond, however, she sat down anyway. Sure, whatever. He mumbled not really in the mood to socialize. Running his hand through his hair he rubbed his eyes again. There is no peace or rest for the wicked. Caine hadn't slept in a few days, and drugging yourself into submission wasn't going to give you proper rest but he still tried. His phone buzzed and he pulled it out of his pocket and checked the new message and others he had ignored for that moment, responding to them and ignoring others. There was a time and place for certain people in his mind and he wasn't up for the optimist, rather somebody to sulk around with and maybe drink or get high. Even at this early part of the day. Not that Caine even really knew what time it was, he didn't pay attention to such trivial things. If anything, hew as lucky if he even got to class this week, lately his motivation for that had fallen to a great low and stayed there.

Bored, he pulled out another cigarette and lit it. Hopefully, he wasn't getting the fumes into his new neighbor's face. Last thing he needed was somebody to snap at him. Why wasn't he at home? You ever get that urge to curl up in a ball and stay there? That was Caine and maybe he was teetering on the edge of being dope-sick or he was out of his mind but he'd see what would happen. Caine glanced at the girl, she didn't seem the type to sit down and draw a happy picture of a tree. He expected something epically Tim-Burton-esque and gothic. Which, he preferred himself. Though he didn't have any tattoos himself, he did admire the art and the expression of them. Caine just wasn't sure what he would have wanted and didn't want to hate it later and he really didn't have a whole lot of inspiration for anything like that anyway. Caine took a drag from his cigarette and looked over to what she was drawing. The tree? You couldn't just take a picture of the thing? Caine asked curiously, drawing was cool and all but he preferred photographs sometimes because of the instant that it took to snap a picture and the clarity you could get from that kind of portrait. Maybe, it was because of his own lack of artistic ability he chose the easy way to do it.

[Chess Lincoln]

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IS MORALITY REAL TO ME?

Sitting there, I just observed the tree in a way before starting to sketch it. Only I shifted it and had the branches kind of swirl; kind of like Alice in Wonderland in a way. The only difference was the way I drew the wind was almost like a music staff kind of guiding the branches along, just like the wind was doing to the tree right at the moment. And at the moment, the guy sitting next to me had just lit up, and I sat back a little. “Oh thank god. Someone else that actually smokes around here.” I murmured. and not just for show my thoughts danced across my mind. I shot a glance to him before returning back to the branches and working on the little sketch I had just started. The smoke automatically made me begin to crave the nicotine that I secretly envied the guy from having. You see, I brought my cigs with me but managed to forget my lighter on my counter next to the coffee pot. How smart, right? I must have been in a big artistic rush to forget the one thing that I needed. By now, I was almost half way done with this drawing and it was turning out pretty damn awesomely, if I could say so myself. I took a deep breath before working quickly to finish it and hope it didn’t look rushed. I was content with it, when I heard the voice of the guy next to me.

“you couldn’t just take a picture of the thing?” I shrugged lightly. “I could.. but then I wouldn’t capture the movement of the trees as well. Being a tattoo artist, you gotta look at the stuff that’s around it to morph it. Like.. if I just had a picture of the tree, that’s all id have. But with the wind and the movement of the tree, I got the ‘musical wind’.” I said, turning my sketch a little bit so he could see it better. Since I was pretty much done with this sketch, I sat back again and pulled a cigarette out, looking over at him. “Hey, you look surprisingly familiar..” I said softly, tilting my head with a confused look along my face. I tried to remember where I had seen him before, though it probably didn’t help with how I left this part of California for a couple years after the highschool break and then managed to return. But damn, this guy looked way too damn familiar. “I’m Chess Lincoln.” I said hopeful that it would ring a bell. Then my mind began to shift. Where the hell have i seen this kid? It was hard to tell; maybe it was with my slight drug use? or drinking all the damn time. Maybe i just couldnt remember because my mind was clouded a lot by the intoxicating alcohol? Fuck, i didnt know, i just knew that this guy looked so damn familiar.

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CAN I BELIEVE IN WHAT I CANNOT SEE?

word count; 505
outfit; here.
tagged; caine seymour
notes; --
inspiration; loser – cute is what we aim for

[caine davin seymour]

Caine shrugged, take another drag of his cig, he honestly didn't know why people made a big deal about smoking. There honestly were worse things that could be done, and he knew that for a fact. People make a big deal about it when there are worse things. He said casually in response, that was his point of view and she didn't look like she would disagree with him on that one. Another drag, he had a thought about offering her a cigarette but he only had a few to spare and was too lazy to buy more of them today. Caine had a system with his brother Christian on buying these things and it was his turn, in the mean time he didn't want to be with an empty pack. He turned a little on the bench to hear her explanation against photography in this particular situation. Tattoo artist huh? Go figure, Caine had reached a similar conclusion based on her extensive personal art. At the same time he got lost in whatever she was talking about, had he been more interested then he would have been interested, but he simply wasn't but no point in being rude about it. Cool. And he certainly wasn't in the place to judge people on anything whatsoever.

His attention was caught when she spoke of his familiarity. Had Caine known her in school or somewhere he probably would not remember it to be honest. Even his closest high school friends he could walk past without recognizing when his brain was in this inactive mode. Well, I pretty much lived here my whole life if that helps. Caine wasn't the type that searched for reconnections, but he didn't push them away either. Caine Seymour. His hand was extended for that lame introductory handshake. All of his previous drinking and drug buddies were blurs, after all you were intoxicated almost ninety percent of the time that you spent together. Caine probably sat next to plenty of girls in his classes that he'd hooked up with drunk or rolling or high and they wouldn't even know to talk to each other because of the fact. I'm usually at most of the parties around here. Even if he can't remember them. Nothing like a blackout to tell you that you had a good time, or even blacking out on your own, those xannie bars worked miracles when you wanted them too. The last drag of his cig and he smothered the but of it against the side of the bench again, last one for now.

[Chess Lincoln]

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IS MORALITY REAL TO ME?

It was simple to say that I just nodded as if I was paying entire attention to him. I was half way listening to him, but was also half way paying no attention to him. I was focused as well, trying to figure out where it was that I had seen him before. The thoughts ran through my head in quite some detail of almost any party that I took part in. I raised an eyebrow and just shook my head for a second when I thought it clicked. I don’t know what I was thinking trying to spend a shit load of time to get this guys face into my memory to see if I knew him from somewhere. “You know.. I think ive seen you at a few of those parties..” I said softly, shrugging before looking back at him. “Hell if I know, though. I drink too much and smoke too many things I have no fucking idea what’s going on.” I let a small laugh escape as I gazed at the guy. His name flipped over a few times in my head. My smile began to face as I flipped the cigarette through my fingers and looked up back at the tree. I looked back down at my drawing before giving up and setting the tablet to the side of me as I adjusted my body a little bit more to face Caine. The cigarette still resided in my tattooed fingers. “Can I get a light?” I asked calmly, with some curiosity. If he didn’t offer me his cigarette lighter, it wouldn’t bother me any.

While waiting for his answer; my thoughts seemed jumbled together really. I set the cigarette on my leg when I saw a dog off in the distance. I took my tablet and quickly sketched some kind of drawing that resembled Cerberus, the three headed dog. Only in this case, two headed. I had the middle head cut off with an awesome looking scar left behind. Then, a thought struck me. My gaze travelled along the ground before back to him after pausing the shading in my sketch a little. “Sorry to be so hyper.. but I’m pretty wound up. You wanna go get a drink or something?” I asked him casually. Its not like I was asking him out, because I wasn’t. I was just asking a friend out for some alcohol. Which, since he went to a lot of parties here, it wouldn’t seem to be a problem. Would it? Maybe if he was in the setting of the bar with a drink in his hand id be able to recognize him easier. I mean, his name sounded familiar and even now that I thought about it, his face resembled the very same. Which caused my curiosity to grow in the sense of the way he talked about the parties and such. But shit, it depends on if my memory is sharp enough from the buzzed effects of the alcohol.

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CAN I BELIEVE IN WHAT I CANNOT SEE?

word count; 507
outfit; here.
tagged; caine seymour
notes; --
inspiration; loser – cute is what we aim for

[caine davin seymour]

Caine was spacing out for the most part, he wasn't never full paying attention to be honest especially when the pills were put into the equation. What do you expect from a more than habitual drug user? Caine could have spent more time figuring out if he knew this girl or not or where she had recognized him from, but that required more effort than he was willing to put in. He laughed a little in agreement. I hear ya... Whether it was too much E, too many bars or too many pills or whatever combination of substances, he woke up feeling like shit but content because somewhere along the line he'd probably had a good time and that's all he wanted. In fact, if he woke up and there wasn't a random girl in his bed then his brother would wonder what the hell was happening, even his sister. It was just the routine that they were used to seeing from him, though he knew they preferred the most stable Caine with a stable relationship and girlfriend that pretty much lived there. Those days were over and he still was anchored to that. She asked him a question and he handed her his simple bic lighter that he carried with his smokes. Nothing like conversation over a smoke.

She drew some more things and he took out his phone again to respond to a text, it was from his sister so he'd respond later of course. She rarely got an immediate answer from him though she did have her time limit before she wondered if he'd done something stupid to himself. All of a sudden he was forced to pay attention to the present when she asked him a question. In that second he realized that he could take her up on the invitation and consider that a productive day, or sit here and stare at the tree some more. Some say that he would have been stupid to go drinking after pills, but he honestly didn't care anymore. Though the methadone and alcohol combination was a bad idea previous, he wouldn't do that again, but this was different. Sure. He very casually and easily accepted the invitation and drinking was always a good past time, especially for him. Even if this wasn't going to lead to some drunkenness, some alcohol was better than none and that was the extend of his optimism.

[Chess Lincoln]

continued here.