Exploding Transistor

By Chad M. Zaputil

The end of all things is close.
The collapse has already begun.
And all of our reflections are about to change...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jan 27, 2015
• ISBN: 9781503539099

Chad M. Zaputil

Chad M. Zaputil is the author of two other previously released poetry books. The subjects of his poems draw heavily from his personal life. Often cited as confessional or narrative poetry, Chad prefers to just call his works "Poetry Stories".

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Copyright © 2015 by Chad M. Zaputil.

ISBN:      Softcover      978-1-5035-3908-2

                eBook           978-1-5035-3909-9

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 01/26/2015

Xlibris

800-056-3182

www.Xlibrispublishing.co.uk

704980

CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION

ACT 1: The Night the Transistor Exploded

Exploding Transistor

See What I See

Cigarettes & Whiskey Flavored Coffee

Cold, Cold Cynical Writer

They Always Tell Me

Mother Of Lies (Pt. 1 of 2)

Murder In Our Earholes

Brain Vomit (Pt. 1 of 4)

Turn Down Your Transistor, Sir (Pt. 1 of 2)

With A Sincere Tear

Illusion In Seclusion

The Shiver

Story of The 3 Serenades

Runaway Believer (Pt. 1 of 3)

ACT 2: The Journey To a State of Mind

Haircuts For Kisses

Memories of My Memoirs

The End of All Things

Turn Down Your Transistor, Sir (Pt. 2 of 2)

Jim Bookie’s Magic Wine

The Last Standing Door

The Old Times Have Passed

Brain Vomit (Pt. 2 of 4)

Population Zero

Heartbroken Valentine’s Day

Part 2 OF ACT 2: Digging Deeper Into My Thoughts

Committing To My Tears

The Collapse

Brain Vomit (Pt. 3 of 4)

My Day of Birth

Knowing & Understanding

An American Wedding (Pt. 1 of 2)

Piranha

To My True Love

Runaway Believer (Pt. 2 of 3)

ACT 3: World In Flames

The Little Last of Me

Sent Me A Notice

The Day You Relapse

Hoops and Ladders

Justin Goodwill

An American Wedding (Pt. 2 of 2)

Brain Vomit (Pt. 4 of 4)

Mother of Lies (Pt. 2 of 2)

ASSASSINATION!

A Child’s Observation

Do I Understand Life?

The End Approaches

Justin Illwill

WAR! (Bullets Have No Sympathy)

RUN, RUNAWAY, RUN!

Runaway Believer (Pt. 3 of 3)

ENCORE! MY 50 STATES OF MIND: Insane Man In The Rain

INTRODUCTION

In December 2011, I was pretty much self-destructing through drugs and alcohol. The experiences that inspired me to write my previous book about being heartbroken had taken a heavy toll on me mentally and emotionally. Was I giving up? I already had. What was my purpose? Nothing, really. Just to get drunk and high as much as possible. Why? Well, maybe it was because I felt like I had nothing better to do. Truth is, when you get to feeling the way I was feeling, and then are given a lot of time to think and dwell on it, you begin to just not care about anything. Memories can be a dangerous thing, especially if they’re bad ones because they can alter the personality in one’s mind. Have you ever been told not to lean on your own experiences? Yeah, so have I. And that’s bullshit because if you don’t learn from the experiences and events that occur in your life…you aren’t going to make it here very long. This world will chew you up and spit you out if you let it. But it will, whether you let it or not. I figure that’s why this world is the way it is. Anyways, my point is that bad memories can be dangerous to a mind and heart that has been beaten and broken to the extent that no amount of therapy or encouragement can restore it. And I think that’s why so many people turn to religion and God; because they don’t want to believe that all of their suffering and heartache will go unrewarded or unappreciated. The truth is, in my opinion, regarding heartache and suffering: that’s just life. Shit happens. We all deal with it in our own ways. For me, I dealt with it by getting wasted. And there was one night in particular in December of 2011 where I had an odd dream. A dream I believe I died in, actually.

What I recall about that night before I passed out on the couch, was the incense I had burning in the flower pot that was sitting on the coffee table in front of the couch. The smoke coming from the incense stick was making all these really unique patterns and shapes as it slowly lifted into the air. (Now remember, before you read this next part, note that I was under the influence when I was seeing this) And as I stared into the patterns the incense smoke was making, it seemed to be taking the shape of a dragon’s head. I was fascinated by it, but it was only there for a couple of seconds and the pattern faded out. Not long after that, I faded out…and passed out.

Now the dream. Also note that as soon as I awoke from this dream, I took the nearest pen and scrap of paper and wrote the dream down before I forgot it. But anyways, this is what I wrote:

"I was sitting on the couch drinking a beer, and I looked over to where the stereo system was supposed to be, but it wasn’t there. I then looked over to the window and standing no more than three feet away from me, was a Native American woman. She was wearing fur and feathers. And I saw that she was holding the missing stereo system by its handle. I didn’t feel like there was any threat in the dream, nor did I find it strange that there was a Native American woman in full blown