Hello forum goers! It's been a while since I've been on here but it's great to be back. Thankfully I'm not too busy with other things and can focus on my writing. I'm excited to get back into the scheme of things and hope to do so with the beginning of this story. Feedback is always welcome! Enjoy!
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Part I

Ok, so you’re looking at this wall right? What do you see? You see concrete flesh with copper and steel bones protruding out of its body. Bullet holes: gaping wounds that each has an untold story. Perhaps one of those tin men made one of ‘em. Maybe one of those gentlemen with tires on their backs had their say. Cracks become the wrinkles of wear and tear over these unfortunate years. How can this wall give back to so many and get nothing in return? If something can last through a nuclear holocaust and back then it deserves some recognition and praise. Didn’t war veterans of yore get medals or something? That’s what I’ll do. It’s my turn to give back…

Heart’s racing, I’ll admit it. Who wouldn’t feel scared out here? Even taking a stroll to your local merchant is a friggin’ tight rope walk. One false move and you’re toast man. Can’t never be too careful. That’s what my mother always said. A good woman. Then again she wasn’t too good with words either. Words never really help out here. None are too educated to even understand a darn. Their dictionary consists of their guns and bullets. Not too difficult to digest eh?

Paint’s hard to get these days. I normally find paint cans in the oddest of places. I’m lucky I can find what I can. No pun intended of course. We can be funny if you want to. Go ahead and laugh, its fine. I mean what would people use paint for these days? Nobody has any initiative or appreciation for art. That was left behind in the old days. There’s got to be more than me out here painting though. I mean Jesus Christ, there’s got to be other freaks like me! Until then I’ll focus on what I got here right now.

What to paint…that’s the million cap question. I got it! A nice daisy. This poor wall needs to be lightened up anyway. This pitiful thing has been through too much. All it needs is a skull or some war symbol to complement this town’s mood. This town. God, what has come of it? You know what the sad thing is? I don’t even know the name of this God forsaken place! I swear, there’s two things those bombs did. They kicked ass and they took names

Got to get my brush out. Can you believe that it’s made of dog hair? No, I didn’t kill the dog you sick freak. Found the sorry soul lying dead on the rattled pavement one day. Can’t say what it died of but that didn’t matter right? It was dead, period. I decided that it had to come to some good use and I took some hair off for my artistic endeavors. It works well I got to say. Very well, very well.

White paint is all I got. I think that’s fine for the flower. I got no critics right? Well, none of the sophisticated kind. I guess if I come back and the wall has been demolished then I’ll know people didn’t like it yeah? That’s happened to me once! No lie! One time I etched this great dove. It looked so majestic my friend. Majestic! To date I think it was one of my greatest works. So I leave it for a day and get some rest right? Wake up, eat some beans, drink some drink, and come back. Where the hell is the wall?! Good goodness…everyone’s a critic.

Kumite Kid is back!!! That was awesome! Looking forward to more!

Thanks for the criticism! Here's the next part. Remember comments are welcome! Enjoy part deux!
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Part II

Oh no! Oh God! No, I’m not getting attacked or anything. Sorry to get your hopes up. Hopes up…kind of sad that you’d hope I get jumped. Whatever. I forgot my traditional tradition before I paint up a wall. Break out the record player! Can you believe I carry a record player with me? Can you believe that its wireless? I have no idea how it’s even possible! Some alien must have had such a rad party with his alien friends and left it here in utter confusion and stupidity. Their bad decisions are my gain. Alien mommas must not teach their kids right. Kids these days…

I then take out that one record and put that needle http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OVtfDoAHdLI. It may be the same ol’ song over and over but it’s the same ol’ catchiness over and over baby! I wish they had more than that one song on there. It’s a shame really. I’m down with it though. If I learned anything it's that you can't always get what you want. But if you try sometime, you just might find that you get what you need. Maybe some day I can put that into song. Who knows? If you were here you’d understand the coolness of this diddy. You definitely would. Salt peanuts man, salt peanuts…

Dipping that brush in that paint, man oh man, everything is feeling right! I got my Charlie Parker going, got a big smirk across my face, what could go wrong? Paint goes across this wall like a Band-Aid. I’m feeling the healing happen right then and there. Each petal I paint is like a sweet peck on the cheek of this wall. I’m sure if it had a face it’d be smiling like I was. Sometimes I don't even feel like I'm doing art or anything. I feel like I'm actually rehabilitating this wasteland in my own way.You’re welcome wall. This was long overdue…

BAM! BAM! BAM! You think I’m just making that up? I hear it too! Holy smokes! This wasn’t a good idea! What do I do? I’m not even done the third petal! Charlie Parker, you’re giving me away buddy! As much as I respect you, I don’t think we can go on anymore like this. I’ll be honest; you blow my cover almost every time and are getting plain old. You’re fascination with salt peanuts has now become just plain weird. I’m sorry record player and record, you can’t exist on this Earth anymore…

Part III

So what do I have left? I just got a paint bucket, a brush, a can of beans, and a smile. I think I can live with that. In truth I feel no regret leaving that record player behind. I’d rather have my life thank you very much. Still feel frustrated that I didn’t finish that daisy on the wall. It was looking so great too! No matter. When you are doing street art like this you can’t get too attached to your work. In a second it could crumble to the ground like nothing. Just have to enjoy the creation aspect you know? Learned that a long time ago…

Well lookie here! Found myself a friggin’ billboard! This is fantastic! What’s on it? Hmm…one of those men in tin suits again with a little snippet about how America is strong and stuff. You’d think after so long I’d meet one of these guys. They’re about as mysterious as those medieval knights or something. Knights…that’s it! What this man is missing is a valiant steed! I’ll just have to give it to him! A majestic white steed is what this billboard needs! When one door closes, surely another opens…

When you’re out here you have to find humor in the littlest things. I mean people are killing each other for squirrel on a stick, murdering for the sake of murdering, taking drugs, and prostituting and crap and like that. With that stuff going round, what do you have to do but stay positive? I guess do the stuff I just listed. Anyways…

Each stroke on that wall is making me chuckle. I’m feeling so risky man, so free and alive! This is totally antiestablishment. But really now, what’s antiestablishment if there is no establishment? Guess it’s just expression. But what’s expression if…oh no no no. I’m not going down some philosophical road of feeling sorry for myself. Self pity. I found this page one day. Must’ve been torn out of a book or something. It was a poem, the author escapes me. I memorized it by heart it was that good. You know what it said?

I never saw a wild thing
Sorry for itself
A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough
Without ever having felt sorry for itself

It just hit me like a ton of bricks. Do you think the animals of today, those big cockroaches and flies and dogs, feel sorry for themselves? Of course not. They were given some strange defect right?

I don’t see a cockroach saying, “Aw shucks, I’m too big to do anything. I’m going to mope in the corner and wallow in the mire of my bigness.”

Don’t see that anywhere! They are going around living their life. And if one day a man comes up to them and hits ‘em with a baseball bat, they’re cool with it! How cool is that? They’re cool with you hitting them with a baseball bat. That’s my philosophy. If I get hit with a baseball bat, that’s cool. If I get shot, okie dokie. I’m not going to complain about how my life svcks. It’s all a part of the big picture yeah? Oh…shouldn’t I be talking about my art or something?

Any comments at this point would be great. I'll continue on soon, thanks!

Very interesting read, Kumite. It's unique with his sanity somewhat mixed in a constantly changing state of mind, ignoring all the bad in the world to focus purely on the good--or what's left of it.

Your link in the second part is broken, just an observation. Would be interested in knowing what the song was you're linking to.

Well well Kid...welcome back.

So: you still going 'Beckett' on us, heh? I like the theater of the absurd, myself, as you have probably guessed in my replies to your previous efforts.

My 2 cents:

What you're trying to do is quite brave, but the problem is that this forum is not quite in the mood for solipistic philosophy. Try to branch out of that particular groove you're in.

I don't know about that, D.Foxy, I know many writers here who understand it clearly and approve of the uniqueness of this story, myself included. Why be forced to do simple stories (such as the ones I write) that are the same as the others, when you could expand? Sure, not everyone will understand this story, but the few who do is all that matters, along with how the author feels about it.

I must admit, this was EXACTLY what I needed. This forum is full of people trying to write the ultimate action epic, and stumbling across this little gem really brought some novelty.

I love the way of telling, I can't really figure out if the guy's eccentric or just plain old cuckoo. There's just something about it... Do go on please, it would be a waste to start writing action packed short-stories with this wonderful concept around!

Thanks for the comments fellas. In regards to my stories, I feel that I've found my style from the past couple or so writings I've done. I did two serious stories starting here. As those went on, I didn't have the spark of inspiration or fun that I do now with this kind of fiction. In truth, my goal is to constantly bring something fresh to this game's universe while keeping the readers and even myself guessing. I think I'm doing a decent job at it. Most importantly though, I'm gaining some experience and having fun!
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Part IV

Coming up on this town, it has a name! Uh-nah-poe-lus, Annapolis. Finally, some sort of sign of recognition and identification. It might have a population of zero but it at least there’s a name to that ghost town. You don’t know how frustrating it is to travel around with not the slightest idea where you are. But in some way there’s the adventure of it you know? It’s all about the discovery and I find that pretty damn satisfying. Now if only I had an idea of the state…

Oh silly me, forgot about that horse painting I was going on a tangent about. Had to stop working on it. Too small of a steed. Looked like the tin guy was curb stomping the horse rather than riding it. Who knows, maybe I’m just being too critical. Otherwise I just splattered some paint on that billboard and called it a day. Nothing special really. I’ll have to brush up on my painting of horses, no pun intended…

I can hear those tides coming in from the water. Must’ve been a nice boating vista back in the day. That salty smell of the water back then has been replaced with the scent of nefarious nuclear waste. That’s the welcoming present I get, the burning of the insides of my nostrils. Jesus, if I’m able to even smell after this. Just have to get my mind off the feeling, off the topic…

Where does my inspiration of my artwork come from? Good question! The world as I know it has been reduced to prehistoric times. Of course we have guns and technology, sure. But what’s left of civilization is a small step back a couple thousand years or so. So I ask you this: What do you think was the inspiration for cavemen back then to paint on their caves? Don’t worry, it’s only rhetorical. They looked around at what they saw and drew it! Inspiration at its most rudimentary form. You wonder though, there’s really a daisy out in these wastes? A horse somewhere? Haha, artists have secrets my friends. If I told you, man, I don’t know what I’d do with you…

And Banksy meets Fallout! Love it, Kid!!!

Thanks gentlemen. I always thought it'd be cool to have some sort of Bansky (like you mentioned D) or Basquiat in a Fallout Universe. Street art, I feel, ties into the ravaged waste culture.
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Part V

Annapolis, Maryland! Finally found out where I am in this God forsaken world! Saw some sign to a convenience store that oddly had an address plastered over it. Guess even they got confused where they were. Maryland, that’s right near DC right? The Capital Wasteland. That’s what the cool kids call it. Now that’s where the last Mecca of art is. I’ve heard so many rumors man, so many buzzing around. I hear that the National Gallery is still standing. Thing is, though, all the artwork is said to be stashed in some vault under it, specifically made for the big bang thing. Somebody apparently threw away the key and nothing was seen of since.

Ladies and gentlemen, things don’t happen like this everyday. History doesn’t erase itself too often as it has in the past years. All of what was considered art is wiped from history. Picasso? Gone! Da Vinci? Gone! Gone! Gone! Gone! I have a grand opportunity to rewrite the history books people. History itself is changing with every brush stroke I make! Other people are surviving day to day. I’m surviving day to day AND making history! You don’t see that everyday.

Now comes the making history part. Ain't working as I planned it to. In truth I have to expand my pieces. Being this um…street artist…isn’t cutting out the way I wanted it to. What’s the point of making these beautiful pieces only to never see them again? Truth being that I need to settle down and earn some dough. Annapolis seems like my kind of town to do so. I can finally have my own studio! I can finally take the time to create works while not being shot at! My art is going to be everywhere man! Papa, I’m going to be famous...

IDEA!!!


Team your protagonist up with Uncle Leo, and make him give visual life to Leo's Zen musings!!!!


That should be right up your imagination's alley...

Part VI

How can you judge someone by their success? Has anyone ever been successful with nobody else around to tell them so? This is just like that one damn riddle about the tree in the forest with nobody there to hear it. Does it make a sound? That’s the million cap question that I can’t find the answer to. I’ve been roaming the streets of Annapolis, bearing the rank of the nearby harbor, and nothing has come up. No form of human life. Hell, no form of any life. Don’t be so pretentious. Remains of buildings and roads litter this little piece of earth. We’re just missing the human aspect. The social aspect. The good aspect...

Jesus, when’s the last time I met someone anyway? I’ll be honest, it’s just been me and a paint can for some time now. The fumes must be getting to me. Are you kidding? Maybe I need to find a new medium. But why stop at something I’ve been doing for so long? Then again, I’m not trying to follow some trend. But what trends are out there? I don’t think painting is up there with murder, [censored], and pillaging. Probably nonexistent if you ask any degenerate out there. Screw ‘em. Probably don’t know art if it sat in front of their face. You know what? They’d probably just shoot at it for no reason. Critics, and the worst kind, all of them…

This can’t be. Why is nobody around here? I know the smell is bad and all, but that can’t be it. I wouldn’t leave a town, especially a nice looking one like this, because of the smell. Just wouldn’t make sense. But why am I complaining about this? I got an opportunity in front of me here. I’m a kid in a candy store with no employees working. I can do whatever I want! If I see a spot I can paint on it! Who’s going to complain to me? That carcass over there? That rotting body a couple blocks out? Of course not! If I can’t be famous then I’ll make this city something to take a gander at. All of Annapolis is my canvas…

Keep it up I like this story :goodjob:

Phew it has been a while since I've been here! I decided that instead of starting a new story I'll continue with this one. It has great potential I feel. I might be a tad rusty but we'll let the readers tell me otherwise. Here is the next section. Enjoy!
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Part VII

I am losing inspiration. Perhaps it is the grandeur of what I have before me. Attempting to put an idea onto a piece of paper in itself is difficult. But throughout and atop a whole city? Such an extraordinary task that no artist has come across before. At least any artist that I know. Then again no artist has encountered such strange times. This isn't war. This isn't a revolution. This isn't an enlightenment or a renaissance. This just is...

Time has ceased. As far as I know, one only is concerned about the present: Where will I live? What will I eat and drink? How will I survive? It is the struggle for existence. No need to expand the mind besides learning how to clean a hunting rifle. Everyone I have encountered has reverted to their most primal. Even talk is now a tool. Any conversation concerns their wellbeing.

“Want to barter?”

“Got any food rations on you?”

“I need water. All you got. I have ten caps!”

But you ask why am I not concerned about my own survival? It's not that I don't want to survive, I just let survival to come to me. Everything happens for a reason I feel. Go ahead and say it is a cliché, maybe it is. All I know is that I'm not going to go out of my way on a nice day to find a can of beans to eat. I'll just do what I love, painting and creating art. On that journey I happen to find things that are imperative to survival. Nothing has to be forced. Forcing things to happen goes against nature. With civilization destroyed, we now fully rely on the natural laws. It's a shame that mostly everyone haven't come to this realization. But what do I know? There could be somebody thinking and writing the same things that I do. Ok, then all I know is that I nothing I guess. Back to square one, perfect. Now what to paint...

And Welcome back!!!

Me gotta run now, will post more later. But just to say don't worrry about the inspiration, KK - just keep plugging on and it will strike!