Syndicate Riots

The journal of Wilson banks

By,Lakira Mitchum

part 4

The interveiw

The bitter unforgiving moments we have in the time of war, it seems we are against all sides.

I can only smell the blood and cigar smoke coming from his office, early Tuesday morning he was wearing a dark green coat, he seemed lost almost as if he forgot he killed a man yesterday and his daughter didn’t have much mercy neither she wanted him dead poor Mr. Widicur it was a strange coincidence.  My boss was a cannibal a man whore, a bastard but in the strangest way.The day I met him it was Late Thursday Afternoon, The most intimidating job interview I have ever experienced sense my first job at Papa johns. “Well well, well  aren’t you a silent son of a bitch, why do I feel as if  I , I met a joker like you? Shy short, Jewish, hardworking, and sweet as fuck” ha,  “So what brings you to my company tiny man?” I swore to God I would slam my head against a table if I had to listen to him call me a bastard again. I was born and raised in Washington state never in my life have I ever hated a bigger city besides New York city it’s a faithless city and this bastard was my new boss.On that  Thursday  Afternoon I was  then   employed with a Billion Dollar corporation that somehow crashed the stock market. We all came from a dark place, the womb of a woman in pain; we the infant ;the tiny parasite, that relies on her every necessity and nourishment, that what this corporation has become to the public a starving over weight infant sweltering in its mother’s womb it almost feel like hell. I fell in love with the money the villainous feeling of falling into materialism and in some way I had a hint of self hatred.Besides my Job interview, my work life consisted of boring phone calls and requesting information from collage graduates  and  senior citizens about  health insurance for their banking information.”You see!” he explained to me while sitting on his desk,”  He stood up and  poured a  glass of whiskey for himself  and continued with a sly smile ,”this corporation is a pyramid scheme, he said, all we need to do is take, and take without say so, and all we need to do is ask once and never ask again.”My company is working for some dumb franchised nationwide college called (Premier University)   who cares, right?  he shrugged,college sucks anyway It’s a for profit school and  not only that  but we are also a “So called” health insurance company, as well as a life insurance and well sense you were dumb enough to come to this interview he said, with a smirk You’re stuck with me. I have all of your information ,I know where your wife lives; your kids, I even know the name of your dog’s vet.”I could tell he practiced this act for years.He’s a thief and a huge one, really I for some  reason really was only afraid of meeting him more than losing my money, or my crazy wife and bratty kids,which is sad but true I had no choice but  to accept this job as a telemarketer in New York city.

Syndicate Riots

Syndicate Riots

part one

By, Lakira Mitchum

Story writing

Script writing draft

The journal  of Wilson Banks

To think wall street could not get any worse the population is getting impatient and scared of what they are capable of.He often wore a white shirt and a black tie,his native tongue was once french then Russian.White women date him because he has money, he’s that guy that killed the monster we all know as the Stock market.The hardest part of knowing him, is the fact that I never turned him in.I never bled for justice,I never wanted to see him loose for some reason instead I was the devil’s advocate, I faced his dark blazing soul less blue eyes and said, yes to his ordeals.I’m not saying I’m gay for the guy, but I’m saying I think I love his evil eyes, his thrashing smile, his gruesome grin and nasty attitude.He’s the shinning symbol of the selfish all American scam, the greatest con artist I every knew.All It took was a bunch of brainwashed imbeciles in their nice cars and wet shoes,painting blood on their door hedges waiting for the IRS to come get them. “It’s all just a load of bull shit, anyway” is what he thinks really. That pulchritudinous bastard would never bang his own wife even if she did treat him better,I have to say he’s a awful son of a bitch, and I’m just waiting for this whole thing to fall through.The church bells will wake him up at his own funeral,  even death would not help punish him for his sins.

The love of money is a dangerous thing, and so is the love of chaos.


Man stands alone part 3

They were now both ready, not to begin from scratch, but to continue with a love that had survived for thirteen years in hibernation. They were no longer travellers without baggage. They were no longer twenty. They’d both been around the block a bit and had suffered without the other. They’d both lost their way without the other.
Each had tried to find love with other people.
But all that was now finished.”
Guillaume Musso, Que serais-je sans toi?

By,Lakira Mitchum

The grassy plain has become their bedroom and she was the only woman who’s laughter matched perfectly with his universe. When she  said, his name she was his only antidote,he thought he needed her, she was the center of his universe and he would rather be lost; than be without her.Things change; fall turns into winter, and she was still the same woman but ,this time they felt disaster at their door.Sometimes pain comes when we least expect it, and sometimes we waste time starring at the past times before we realize our contentment with the  present can bring disaster to our future.Love is strange sometimes,but peace is simple and maybe it takes blood to better appreciate water, and maybe it takes a scar to help us realize we suffered.She wore a white dress to their wedding and he wore a black shirt to her funeral, life came so fast.Life for him will never be the same but until he sat in a  pub and finally cried, for first time in a while, he finally will think of himself at night under the stars listening to the ghost of their past.”I love you Susan,and I always will”. but for now he has a new journey ahead of him, off to Alaska to see the new things.

Years latter he then lived alone in the mountains to only hear, the rain patting his name on the windows.He loves life more now although Susan is Gone he found a new love `that was  in the mother earth. He sat sat in the crisp  cool fall air waiting for something. Then she came walking down the dirt road, there she was a woman that looked as pure as the moon herself. “Hello Robert” She needed him as much as he needed her, her name was Charlotte, she was stunning and maybe a little pale with green eyes.

“I missed this feeling,” he wrote in  his journal, he loves her, and she lived with him until they died, in the rain together,  at the age of eighty, unmarried yet alive.

To be continued:

Man stands alone part 2

by,Lakira Mitchum


Mockery bleeds in the soul of the man with the deepest passion, he sighs with the feelings of deepest despair, we sing for him in the large bathtubs in tiny motel rooms.He’s the hero we only dreamed of him being happy but, really he’s a secondary chemical a dangerous lover.His heart is an industrial field, his eyes are the dusky windows of her station wagon, here he is sort, of torn, sort of broken, sort of confused, raped by villagers and hurt by women, and heroine she could never really save them both; she only put him in the fun house to get lost alone.The man stands alone,the man sings in the dark alley wishing for hope and homestead, homesickness bellows inside his weakened legs as he walks the dark street of  lost cities.That man stood alone, he walked in the dark and eats away the cheap food he could afford.He rides trains in the afternoons and plays his guitar at her grave.You see how love works and you see how lust works after a while and somehow the sky just seems a little clearer, and the doves seem a little whiter and roses may smell a little better even after his lover died.God said, love was everything, and they said, family never gets left behind, but why did it take him so long to find  this type of love so it’s been taken away by this so called heroine, the strong feminist that sold her soul to the ones that enable her to do nothing but drown in her own urine. What is love to him, love was hope, love with with him all along, when he learned to love himself, he found an intellect higher than he was and was ever before.It strange how things come together in huge gatherings of horrid lies and bizarre truths.He know sleeping beauty was only raped in her slumber, he wants to be her hero,but until then he only a man that stood alone for now.

The Unknown Necessity:

Love became eternal when we saw the necessity:

by,Lakira Mitchum

He was standing there in the rain starring at her, and there she was with intentions of saving his soul, with some intention of helping him quit.He was in delirium a strange serge of endless hopeless thoughts wondered across his mind, he’s thinking that he never needed love but, he wanted to love her more and, he wanted to love her mother more. His soul was stagnate.He just stood their helpless,he had no job, he had no home, he had nothing but all she wanted was him, she loved him.His hands were rough and dirty, and his teeth were rotting and stained.

when He  finally dropped his pipe on the ground he felt some comfort in knowing;  his thoughts were really just that her arms were his home.Maybe he gave up on himself ten years ago, or eight weeks ago after she said, she was in labor, he made sure he at least stayed alive even with heroine in his veins. He was tired of his own broken heart, his own broken phenomenon,he knew she forgot about what he did yesterday.He cried while she stood their smiling “Daddy it’s me, Carla” she said with warm eyes overflowing with hope, she saw Ohanna in his destiny,but he saw an overdose in his past and cried because he never forgot he was once less than zero. She was the one thing that made him realize he needed to live, she needed him.A fathers love, a man’s own exuberant  passage to self discovery can sometimes be found in the tiny palms of an infant’s hand and a woman’s touch can enlighten the eccentric passionate feelings that something the world, can’t understand. Love can easily become a God to us, and that unknown necessity that kept the last pill from his mouth, that last prostitute from his bed.He somehow felt the need to protect himself only because of this little girl and her brilliant mother.A woman’s persistence, a lover’s predilection, a desire so strong, he seemed to have forgotten he was still standing in the streets of Seattle in the pouring rain by a bus station. “Hosanna save me” he mumbled, to himself before he finally broke his stare,Carla was patient and ran to him with open arms.He maybe homeless but, he is and was exactly what she needed to let her know she was not born in vain, he was and is that last twinkle of home  and hope in her little eyes at the young age of four.

Hope can be found in humanity if we just learn to love first.

He that Loved A woman named Rain


By,Lakira Mitchum


He was standing in her graceful waves and he never knew someone so graceful ,so wonderful, so beautiful she was here with him for the first time.detached from the judgement of man and female, the world was a place they simply slept inside of, they were in their place, realm of hope and glee. He kept her in heart and listened to her sorrowful voice. Soaking her memories in his mind ,he was strong when she was weak, he was kind and she was angry, love made them one.


Rain, was a woman of strange necromancy  she was a gypsy soul, a woman that loved the sun and danced with the moon.They sung to the stars at night and never cursed the rain, they had many children and lived blameless lives of love and harmony.Rain, had an radiance about her, no creature man or planet could understand, or write in words she was the gentle spirit that carries him to a place of peace. Rain made the mother earth smile, she comforted the ashamed, the sad and lonely and lost.Rain is still alive and will live forever with in our lives,she was a child with a pure heart and a woman with a strong heart. Her eyes were shinning with a blissful lambency, a persistent reasoning desire for compassion.  Rain was made from a mother’s tears, her birth was a vexatious experience.

But she is a gift to the earth.


Envis Blind Flicka: Ideas of courage

“When one door of happiness closes, another opens; but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one which has been opened for us.”
Helen Keller

“Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet. Only through experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, vision cleared, ambition inspired, and success achieved.”
Helen Keller

By,Lakira Mitchum

Short story

creative writing

She repeated to him over and over again no I’m not interested in surgery I’m content with my blindness,You will be a blind fool forever Edna! ,he said, “No no papa I love my new live with my Dog I’m okay with my blindness she retorted to her family at the dinner table.She had been blind for about 20 years and her parents were worried about her ,she was about to begin college with a new trained assistant Dog,  the last one was replaced  due to a  vehicle  collision. Everything was Different now ,Her eyes were feeling brand new and her heart was strong with no fear for what life brings her.She hates being underestimated,She hate being last, she made the choice to be strong on her own even with being blind.

Shaking her cane nervously in line she was prepared to get her text books, a young man trip her as she walked by, “I hate dumb handicapped people he mumbled to himself”as she tumbled down the steps she cried, I just want to be strong like my grandmother, she was once blind as well, she died blind. Edna latter Graduated college with honors, not as a charity case but as a winner this time, she came on top and with her thick Swedish accent she felt invincible.She never gave up even when she was six She knew how to ride her bike by her self, while being blind,perseverance is key; her mother always told her.why wait, why be weak, why give up, why want to be like everyone else and choose the easy way out.

Dreams really do come true, with no vision in her eyes and one in her heart, that’s what her grandmother told her , she was happy ever sense, because she never gave up.

“I would rather walk with a friend in the dark, than alone in the light.”
Helen Keller