Closer

I lay down in my bed, I take one earphone and insert it into my left ear and then the same to the right ear. I lay my head back and press play. A synthesizer starts it off slow and melodic for a few turns, then a unsuspected snap of the snare brings me out of the trance I'm in and owns me.

All I can do is shudder with fear as the haunting wale comes in from the guitarist's pickups. By the time the lyrics come in, I already know this is my anthem giving me power in every situation. The guttural voice sings with a controlled yell that is un-paralleled.

Still that synthesizer and drum beat flow through my head as I listen to the words. It's insane the rush I feel listening to this song that I could hear it over and over again. As it drops it's canter leaving just the synthesizer, it feels like a lullaby putting me to sleep. . .good night

35

Well, today I turned 35, I don't feel much older although I feel very emotional being my first birthday without having my mother around to celebrate with. I didn't think it would hit me as hard as it has. Just another day. . .

The Basis of What?

Jules: What does Marcellus Wallace look like?
Brett: What?
Jules: What country you from?
Brett: What?
Jules: What ain't no country I ever heard of! They speak English in What?
Brett: What?
Jules: ENGLISH, MOTHERFUCKER! DO-YOU-SPEAK-IT?
Brett: Yes!
Jules: Then you know what I'm saying!
Brett: Yes!
Jules: Describe what Marcellus Wallace looks like!
Brett: What, I-?
Jules: [pointing his gun] Say what again. SAY WHAT AGAIN. I dare you, I double dare you, motherfucker. Say what one more goddamn time.