You Find it Nonetheless

You Find it Nonetheless

“Without music, life would be a mistake.” – Friedrich Nietzsche I stood atop of the rooftop of the Chicago apartment and looked over the skyline. We were on the north side of the city. My side of the city. The day was magnificent. There was nary a cloud in the sky. Spring was beginning in the city and the air was beginning to melt under the crispness of winter’s bite. I stood on that rooftop in my jeans, in my cardigan, in my soft T-shirt, in my tan Vans, with my black, cheap sunglasses atop of my little Irish nose. It was picturesque. To prove this claim, I will include a picture in this post, something I rarely do for you. I love this town… A post shared by Mike Hansen (@fattyhansen) on Apr 23, 2016 at 4:08pm PDT We were celebrating one of my best friends’ end of bachelorhood. A tradition that usually involves scantily clad women, becoming more scant while the men indulge in an overabundance of alcohol. We did not carry on that tradition for Joel. There were no scantily clad women. There were no bare breasts. There was just an overabundance of alcohol. And pizza. There was a lot of damn pizza. As I stood on that rooftop, leaning over the railing, sipping on a Miller Lite and admiring the city, one of Joel’s friends that I had not previously met came over to me. He is a super nice man. If you are in the city I recommend having a beer with him. He had a beer with me on that railing and I...
Dreams

Dreams

“Every great dream begins with a dreamer. Always remember, you have within you the strength, the patience, and the passion to reach for the stars to change the world.” – Harriet Tubman Dreams When my head lightly touches the pillow and my eyelids are too heavy to drag across my eyeballs, the weight of the world nestles into my chest until I can manage to jump free in a violent spasm. After my body seizes I begin to dream dreams that I could only dream. Dreams that you could only dream to dream. While you may be conquering the world in your way I will conquer the world in the only way. I will dream these dreams that I dream and it will leave me with a feeling of rejuvenation. When you dream the dreams that you dream it leaves you with a feeling of extirpation. You have this constant feeling of dread and fear deep inside of you. It’s unfounded, really. I have this constant feeling of hope and apathy somewhere inside of me. And that is why I dream the dreams that I dream. The weight of the world is not that heavy to me. It can fit onto my chest and barely jostle my heavy eyelids as I lay my heavy head onto my...
It’s Beyond Catharsis

It’s Beyond Catharsis

“When I open them, most of the books have the smell of an earlier time leaking out between the pages – a special odor of the knowledge and emotions that for ages have been calmly resting between the covers. Breathing it in, I glance through a few pages before returning each book to its shelf.” – Haruki Murakami It took me awhile, but I did it. I had been thinking of this story for the better part 14 years. Maybe it was 13 years but, nonetheless, I did it. I finished it. In fairness to myself I didn’t start writing the story until last year. Putting the proverbial pen to paper (I know I type mostly on a laptop, sometimes a desktop. I actually finished on the desktop. Digression) I brought a story that I had wanted to work on for years to life. I breathed life into it by having the namesake stop breathing just a few pages in. Mourning Skye. I was excited to write this story because it is one of my typical stories – twenty-something fuck-ups that fall in love and have to make a hard choice. These stories were part of the independent film resurgence of the 90s and I grew up on them. I ate them up. These characters were relatable. These characters were flawed. These characters were dicks. These characters were nice. These characters were funny. These characters were sad. These characters were – me. When I went to Purdue in 1999 and declared my major as Creative Writing and Film Studies, I was writing these stories already. At least a version of...
The Song was Happy

The Song was Happy

“The happiest people seem to be those who have no particular cause for being happy except that they are so.” – William Ralph Inge With open arms she looked to the sky and sang a beautiful song. I did not recognize the tune. I did not recognize the song. But, as she looked to the sky and as she sang I joined in with her and sang along. As the lyrics rolled off of my tongue my eyes immediately swelled. I tried to look through the pools of the salty waters, that were gathering above my eyelids, but it was difficult to see. The song was blinding me. A celestial blinding, the quintessence cascading through  body. When I was able to peer through the fractals, I saw another join in the song. They did not know the tune. They did not know the song. But when they saw her outstretched arms and when they saw my filling eyes, they suddenly knew every word. They did not fall dead at their teeth. They came to life as they passed their lips. And then my vision cleared. I saw more of them. They started to gather around. Suddenly, this song that started out as this woman’s song came to life. It was being broadcast in stereo. Basses and trebles and mids echoed across the land and the woman sang there, with open arms. We all sang. And we were happy. She was happy. The song was...

The Condition of Oblivion

“Apathy is a sort of living oblivion.” – Horace Greeley The Condition of Oblivion So, this condition of no ambition. It’s not a rendition but a tradition. We all have this sense that we all have no sense. That only makes sense, right? In this lonely plight? Are you the type that will question, to stop perpetual indigestion. To pour antacids down our throat soothing the ulcers as it coats. Blame the apathy on the pharmacy and the illegitimacy of literacy.   please to...