The Royal Losing

Two guys playing chess.  Strategy. Two guys trying out similar goals, by contradictory means.

The knight gave me a run for my money. Left me broke and on the edge of despair. And the bishop, he tried to act all sexy. But behind his smile was a man who just didn't care. Murder is fun. It's in the rules. That knight brought his sword down hard on my skull, he ruined my plans for peace.

I send my genii. I send my curses. And all that's wrapped up in his negative connotations. He brings his family, he brings his in-laws. He brings the bulk of his baggage and unloads.

Two guys, way fucked up. Making sense of the world through a metaphor of royalty. Two guys. Desensitized. Barely visible on the brink of reality.

On the micro, its no more than competition. filling up minutes like filler television. On the macro, he's ruling the world. He's gaining a wisdom but sacrificing a vision.

On the horizon lives the Queen. She calls herself Catherine to remember her name. Under her castle, deep rivers scream. the tragedies of pebbles lost in the current. I feel for her plight. She runs for her life. Her men are double agents. Herself is a spy. Her crown weighs ten pounds. and in spite of herself. She carries through the river. her ornamental anchor.

Sick individuals inhabit my board. I must cheat to win. But I must abstain to evolve.

Two guys in contemplation. They used to be strangers. Two guys waiting for the initiation. Whirlpool of contacts have brought them to this point. This point. Right here. This point. Right here.

Checkmate.

Chess is universe. and losing is universal. Chess played in reverse reveals secrets long hidden. There's something he wants to tell him. Sum it up in a short sentence. All the bullshit he's been carrying is censored by his otherside. Chess is his language. accented by experience. Chess is his solitude. evolving into Solitaire.