Metro Palm Readings & Such
Art by James Jean
I’m in a weird transitional period in my life where I receive signs and patterns from the universe. I mean I’ve always done this to some extent, but I’m leaning into more than usual. These signs give me comfort and serve as confirmation that I’m on the right path. You know…angel numbers, animal totems, random synchronicities…
I was riding the metro home earlier this week and started talking to this random guy wearing grey sweats. In LA you never know if someone is bum, a normal guy or someone with some Hollywood juice. This guy’s bald head was adorned with tats, his face had tats, his hands had tats, his muscular legs were decorated with horror tats, and he told me he worked in the film industry and he thought he recognized me from the gym. He worked on a slew of horror films as a pyro & special effects guy and directed music videos for Daft Punk, Rihanna, 3 6 Mafia, and more. He spilled some tea on Nicki Minaj, Lady Gaga, and William Shatner.
If you’ve never met me in real life, just know I’m pretty composed and stoic. Internally, I was hyped because I’m trying to secure a bag from Hollywood. They’ve already come knocking in other ways so I know that fat check is coming any day now. We chopped it up on the bus about my writing, horror flicks, seeing ghosts, and he gave me a little pep talk. Then I showed him my tarot card tattoo and his eyes lit up.
“You read tarot cards?” He asked, leaning over the seats.
“Yeah, used to make a living off it.”
“That’s badass, you got them in your bag,” he pointed to my black and white Nike duffle bag sitting next to me.
“Naw, I left them at home.”
“You read palms?” He asked a question, but said this as if it was a fact he was waiting for me to confirm.
“Yessir.”
He stuck out his left palm, extending it across the chasm between bus seats. I held his palm like a book in my hands and began reading his lines, pointing out the long life ahead of him despite his age only being 46. He pointed to two small lines on the side of his hand.
“What are these?”
“These are marriage lines. Not necessarily marriages but major relationships. You had two.”
“Wow, that’s accurate.”
Everyone on the bus was staring at me this point while the bus cruised down the road. Windows pitch black. I looked at his right palm which I read as the future and pointed at a large break in his life line.
“Gaps in your life line represent life threatening events. This is that incident you told me about with the Westworld situation.”
He gestured to his thick tatted thigh. “It’s crazy. I was using a cane earlier this month but threw that shit out. I was using it as a weapon.”
I laughed. “I would have never guessed you even needed a cane. I know you’re doing calisthenics and shit.”
He showed me pictures of himself hanging off pull-up bars upside down. This motherfucker was strong.
“Yeah, I got these weapons right here,” he clenched his fists, showing off tattoos of brass knuckles on the back of his hands.
“Dope.”
“You know they call me a warlock?” He grinned.
“Why, you practice magic?”
He shrugged. “I don’t do anything. I do have premonitions though. I see shit and it comes to fruition.”
“That’s cool. I used to have premonitions when I was a kid.”
“Yeah, I also can visualize things and make that shit happen.”
“I wouldn’t doubt it.”
We were the last two people to exit the bus in North Hollywood. We talked some more, and bumped fists before parting ways.
“I believe we met for a reason,” he said, hands in his pockets.
“Same, man. Same.”
“I got your IG.”
“Yeah, we should link up one of these days.”
“For sure.”
I’ve been receiving some interesting writer opportunities. I think of these as writer side quests. If I was younger, I would say yes to everything, but I’m much wiser in my 30s. A ghostwriting company and a table top gaming company want me to write for them. I weigh the time committment, money, and ask myself will this be fun?
We’ll see. I don’t rush into anything or sign contracts on a whim. We’ll see what happens.
On the writing front, things continue to go well. I’m getting more excited about Project Bunny Bloodbath. This is for my God’s Leftovers fans. I figured out the character dynamics which is interesting and exhilarating. One character has been fleshing herself out and almost serves a propulsive pawn full of tension and drama.
I almost forgot to mention Flatline Magazine. This is the cyberpunk brainchild of e. Rathke over at
, but the whole Broken River Books gang will be editing and putting together the project. Plus, I’m putting my editorial hat back on…The idea behind Flatline is quite simple:
A paying magazine for longer short stories (3k-8k words)
One story per month (think One Story Magazine)
Specializing in cyberpunk, in all its many permutations
We’ll be launching a kickstarter early in 2024. I’ll keep you updated in terms of submissions and all of that good shit.
Currently Watching: Love, Death & Robots Season 3 & Lost Season 1
Currently Reading: Blame! by Tsutomu Nihei & Full Throttle by Joe Hill & Cosmic Horror Monthly #2 & An Altar of Stories to Liminal Saints by Rios de la Luz
I’m in the process of reading a couple books that haven’t been released yet. I always feeling honored when authors want me to blurb their books. So there’s that…
Currently Smoking: Alien Labs Creme de Menthe Pre-roll
Listening: Black Tapes Podcast, The Danny Brown Podcast, The Higherside Chats
I’m wondering if Maxo Kream feels like he has something to prove because every track he’s dropped this year has been fire. He reinterpolates Bonecrusher’s most famous song in flawless fashion and brings Key Glock along for the ride.
If radio was still a thing, I feel like Dominic Fike would be huge. Such a strange collabo, but it makes all of the sense in the world. Poignant, nostalgic, and touching. I always wonder who is the girl who inspired this song?
I respect it when a rapper takes advantage of negative situation and alchemizes it into gold. Billy Bapper does this despite breaking his legs in an ATV accident. Auto-tuned vocals help convey his pain, but also help his threats to the opps feel more heartfelt. It’s crazy he’s waving a gun around a hospital. Shoutout to Valley Club for shooting this slick visual in one location.
It was only a matter of time until DJ Premier and Griselda would cross paths. Rome Streetz is my favorite member of the rap collective, but both Rome and Gunn slide on this hiphop beat like butter. BOOM, BOOM, BOOM!
Until next time…
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Life is just as much METAPHYSICAL as it is PHYSICAL.... and this drop proves it. Im heah 4 em.
This is a fire entry. As a writer, I’m inspired, I wish this was my novel, my work in progress. The voice is strong! As a reader, i’m a fan and loving it all. Salute