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    Dont Read Me
    Dont Read Me
    Dont Read Me
    Ebook131 pages2 hours

    Dont Read Me

    By James Aa. Keister

    ()

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    About this ebook

    turning the pages of this book you have been warned not to read, will take you through some experiences good and bad, frightening and mind boggling.it will make you wonder about the world around you and just what part you have in it. it will take you to places unimaginable and places you would rather not be in. experiencing things you didnt think you were capable of. all before bringing you back to reality.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJames Aa. Keister
    Release dateMay 30, 2013
    ISBN9781301721788
    Dont Read Me
    Author

    James Aa. Keister

    James Aa. Keister, was born and lives in Monroe, Michigan. An artist in both the arts and music. Letting this strong sense of talent flourish over into his writings. With an imaginative endorsement of realism that brings forth an ever flowing twist to his novels.

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      Book preview

      Dont Read Me - James Aa. Keister

      DON'T READ ME!

      By

      James Aa. Keister

      SMASHWORDS EDITION

      Published By:

      James Aa. Keister on Smashwords

      Don't Read Me

      Copyright 2013 by James Aa. Keister

      Thank you for downloading this book. You are welcome to share it with your friends. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author's imagination and used fictitiously. This book contains adult reading material. Your support and respect for the property of this author is appreciated.

      Illustration and cover design:

      by John Maltese

      09-25-2012

      Chapter One

      You hold in your hands one of a few prints...thank you...but please, don't read me! You'll be stuck inside, trapped within these pages. You see...I'm your feign, a real true friend when you need to cuddle up and relax. But I'll get stuck inside your head, stuck inside this shell of you. Burrowed deep beneath your skin. Buried deep beneath layers of everyday babble. But I'm a quick relief of all your day's weary spending'. A fast get away to some new place you have never been to before. And a way to fill this empty shell of you, you call your...mind. Sometimes we tend to fill ourselves with a lot of nonchalant garbage. Everyday life has a way of doing just that in some creeping way of sneaking in. Taking up space just like all these written letters and words. Too many to discard, too many to remember. So what do you do You load more inside. And now you sit back...holding me in your hands...letting your eyes pan over these familiar letter structures you recognize as words.

      You're just a mask for my covered task held between two hands. It's you that I will use. I'll be your dreams, imagination, and your nasty nightmare schemes when your clouded eyes can't see. Your pain when you need to feel. I'll be that hate when you want love and a scapegoat when you devolve. Fallen off that ride, you call life. And I'll be that lie when you want to die. Your whispered truths when you're telling all those lies.

      See...I'm like the feel of scaling liquid streams of burning hot and all that flows through you. The icy shivers of deaths embrace when your not, and I see into each of you. Like a fleeting glimpse of shadows to come. A proverbial genie that's been let out of it's bottle. Now wreaking havoc on the darker realms of your played out psyche. I'll be here waiting as the nights black calling eases to let your eyes flow off into dreaming of that which alludes you. The chaotic misplay of a hero's mayhem. It's victory just out of reach. Yet...I'm always in reach. Finding myself sitting here next to your bed on that night stand you keep your alarm clock on. Or maybe you keep me stacked on shelves, letting my colorful binders stand out in marching orders of some organized sequence you've placed me in.

      Hmm! Here I sit...waiting to help you feel again. To help you see that which you desire to secretly draw on. That which is a story told in telling tales. And in some graceful adroitness, an artist spills his heart out on a page and watches his words flow away to all those who care to read those words. Maybe to find that all of those words weren't worth it. Maybe it is worth what he has given away. And you let them flow in as you see right through the heart of me. Now that these words control. Can you feel how the words slither past the pictures of your mind? Don't look away. Not even in your mind. They're still here like silken strands of sticky webs that hold you to each written word. I'm just some sort of spark that seemed to have happened so long ago that no one truly knows when it all started. But as time passed...we humans, brought this creative monster to life. By drawing pictures in the sand, painting images on some sacred cave wall, left hidden. Telling tales of a life once lived. A way to reminisce on all those memories. Then, as if on time, it was carved in stone and burnt into wood until one day, someone, some where had created a type of parchment of leather ed skin and pulp. That's when all this dark and shiny shadow of spiraling blackened tunnel, we call language, began to creep into our known lives. Those words you see in that shell of you. Trying to find their way out. Driving deeper into what you think is a written dream, when in fact it's your nightmarish reality. That dark beautiful mask you wear in your bright shiny world. It's what you use to fool yourself into thinking that your quaint little world is all right. What an illusion you weave so well. But I did warn you...don't read me!

      Stop trying to convince yourself that it's real, you know it's not. It's the figments of your imagination. The soul you thought was taken to some higher place, when all you found was the lesser parts that flutter down like ashes, burnt and spent. Drifting in a windless place that holds you captive. They're only pages of a book you hold in your hands. What fear has ever come from a book? No secrets to hide. You read what you get. And it does not matter who the reader is. As long as their mind is open to that which may very well entertain them in some illusive way. Yet here you are, lost in these words of splay like water colored skies of painted pictures, spread out and wanting to be seen. I did warn you, but you just had to see, just had to know, just had to open the cover and now you're stuck inside. Whether you continue on reading or close the cover and never pick me up again.

      Yes...it's too late! I'm in your mind. Driving deeper with each new word. And you're in here now. Like it or not. This game of written words that commands which way your thoughts are carried. And it is I who brings this splay of senses to what you think. Like that of tattooed crimson stains that run down pale white skin. Or maybe it's the warmth of the mid-summer' sun you feel on your face as you stare up into it's glaring brightness. Hmm! Maybe it's the soft scent of a babies breath you smell just before it screams out in piercing tones of glass shattering annoyance. Hee...Hee! You just don't know how fun this all is. Knowing that you just can't help yourself from wanting to know what I'll say next. Nor can you control what I say. You're in my pages now. My world. My distorted realm of reality, with floating letters that spill over white pages in a smear of words. Don't look away. Yes...they're still here with those that crawl in your mind in spidery tickles of creeping. You can feel them flutter across your mind in pictured abyss. Scurrying up to sit beside you, comfort you, embrace you. But will you embrace them? As above your head, you sense the feel of something hanging over you, waiting to web down to touch your thoughts. You can't go back the way you have come. There' no door to exit out of. No...that door has been shut. And the only way out is at the other end of these pages. Yeah...these pages you decided to pick up and read.

      So then...let's continue down this dark hall, this tunnel that is taking you deeper. Where the hell is it all leading to? Wish I knew, but at the moment...I really can't say. Oh! And did you know? Well, maybe it's just that I've forgotten to mention. These words, these pages, have been cursed, enchanted, spellbound. Whichever you wish to call them. How...you ask? Well my friend, let me tell you. As far back as anyone can remember, long recorded. Back when language could be spoken and under stood. It was then, that language was...enchanted. Stories told all throughout the generations. Held tales with added allure to entice the listeners...to want to know...what happens next! And when written pages became that which could be held in a readers hand...I came! Call me a story teller, novelist, tale teller, writer, bard, or author...it's all the same. It's a game of written words. Scribbles, and I have you caught up in mine. Why? Because you want to know. It's that one thing you can never escape, even if you were to tear and shred me to pieces...burn me to ashes...I would continue to live within your mind. Each and every time you see my cover...forever! Oh...if you could see me smile. Hee...Hee!

      So why not continue down this dark tunnel. Maybe there's some magical light at the other end. Who knows! You'll just have to push on ward. But don't let the veiled thought of all these scary words deter you. See...I'm always around when you need a friend to cuddle up with. When you need someone to help teach you. Or maybe to say a prayer and guide you. Know that I'll be here. I'm made up in colorful pictured hues of glossy flash that catches your attention. And in black and white when there is no need for distraction. Maybe I'm in realms of love and laughter, hope and happy ever afters. Or that of windy plains, bullets, horses and arrows...how insane. Maybe murder and mayhem, mystery and marvel, horror and terror. Does it matter? No! I'm to your taste. Bringing forth the imagined figments with each new reading. So what will you

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