My Letter Came with a Symbol - A Symbol Depicting Some Snake

The apartments that I currently live in were supposedly built only five years ago, but it seems like this complex has been around for much longer. The residents and neighbors are definitely some interesting individuals. Sometimes, it seems they can be more eccentric than first perceived. I moved in only a few years ago, so they easily could be lying about the history of this place. Now that I think about it though, the "they" that told me the history, I have no recollection of who "they" were. They may have been landlords or maybe just people who had recently stayed there or even current residents. Actually, thinking back to when I signed my lease for this apartment, I don't remember going to anyone's office. I remember someone. A person, non-distinguishable from a mere shadow who gave me one sheet. If I remember right, the print was almost too tiny to read and the lighting seemed dimmer than usual. All I remember was seeing the person tapping their pen along the line where I was supposed to sign. I may have well been signing away all my legal obligations towards even being able to rent from this complex. However, renting is a part of being an adult. So I signed. I may be in my late 20's now, but sometimes, adults make mistakes with their lives too. Now that I think even through the past few years, I noticed my neighbors less and less. I have noticed people less and less. I almost feel like I don't need to bother with anyone but myself. When I saw that weird cardboard letter with saying the "The End is Never", I knew that my life was about to get more confusing and complicated very soon and then become very clear because of my dependence on not others, but this complex. However, this complex involves all my neighbors and all the tenants and all the landlords...if they are supposedly that. They knocked on my door. I did not want to answer yet my hands led me to the lock and handle. I opened it and saw the person. The same one who had me sign my contract, except something was different. It was wearing those fancy clothes that the homeless person had worn during my trip to the big city. It was not just a person. This was my landlord. My landlord was the one holding that sign. They were not even my landlord yet or at least I don't think. Why could I not remember or connect the two? "You are ready," said the landlord. "I am ready for nothing," I strongly pronounced each word. "The training is complete!" exclaimed the landlord to no one but myself. "You are ready to un-sign." "Will everyone know the transition?" I asked. "No one ever knows the full transition," stated the landlord. The landlord laid down the statement I had signed those few years ago on that same counter. The same sheet with tiny print and my John Hancock sitting on the bold line stared into my eyes. Sometimes you barely notice you did something till after it was already done moments before, like un-signing my own name. If anyone normal had been there, they would clearly told you that the ink from my signature miraculously went back into that pen. Once that ink returned, I owned that pen. "It is complete," I said to no one other than myself. It all makes sense now why this all happened to me, especially recently. My life was dull and pulling away from what makes life exciting. I can barely remember the people I meet outside of this complex. I barely know my own name. It's probably because they never learned their name either. They never learned who they were until they signed and unsigned. They were like me. They are me. They will always be. I am the landlord.

Let's Be Honest, I Want to Know How to Write

The End is Nigh. The End is Near. When you see this statement, where is the most commonly thought place anyone has seen it in popular media or in real life? Understandably it is in many books and there is mention of the end times in the Bible. However, I am talking about humanity using this term. You hear others say it out loud in rallies or protests. Some even chant it at political leaders. However, whenever I see that phrase, my thought goes to a cardboard sign being held by a homeless person. It seems cruel to think that image is what pops in my head first but think of all the movies and photos on the internet that used this method. I have seen countless actors portraying homeless people holding the sign with those exact phrases written on them. My only feasible correlation between homeless people and them knowing about the end of the world is they have seen the worst of it and there is not anything else they can do but to warn others. Very pessimistic. But, how many of you can say you saw someone who may be a high profile business person holding that sign up with as much vigor or resonance as some of those people? Why do I think about this? It's because I over analyze things. Weird how a person who thinks too much about trivial and small ideas can over analyze the purpose of a simple phrase. One hot summer month during my first year of college, I took my own personal trip to a big city. Big city may be an overstatement as I grew up in a small town but being surrounded by hundreds of others on a sidewalk can make anybody use to personal space a little sensitive. Walking down the big city sidewalks can be maddening or enlightening. People watching or feet watching or the rare stare in the sky. All of it is interesting to me. I should have known walking down the sidewalk would be dangerous. I only had a simple drawstring bag with me for a trip around the big city. My wits were about me at first. However, I always gave up interest in being aware in exchange for the fascination of others and environment. Soon, I was lost and nearing a slip alley between two toppling giants. Once I passed that section, I had the unfortunate chance to see a sign. It was the cardboard signage being held by a homeless person. I couldn't tell if they were a man or woman. Covered head to toe in more clothes than I was daring to wear on a hot day, this individual was smiling and not even breaking a sweat. As this person stepped closer to me, I noticed more details about the clothes. They were not ragged items. If anything, they were more like riches to rags type clothing. This person was wearing a button up suit with black trousers. They stepped closer into a section of light and in it, their face was gleaming as I noticed them as a man with scraggly hair. However, I noticed the hair was not scraggly anymore, but styled up and gelled together in a wavy cut. He was even clean shaven and no smears of dirt or grime anywhere on this well groomed male. The only thing that had not dramatically changed was the sign. On the piece of cardboard, written was "The End is Never" in dark red marker. I had only thought it in my mind, but the high fashion man who easily could have been a class act gentleman nodded in agreement as though he knew I had read it. Then the man stepped out of the light and back into the darkness. While transforming back into the many clothed homeless person that had been standing there earlier, thousands of thoughts raced through my mind. However, before I could regather all my thoughts and recollect any information to safely organize what this possible meeting meant, a simple hit from a passerby distracted me. I looked around to notice someone had tripped and stumbled right into me and while falling to the ground, had yanked on my drawstring bag. These bags are not bullet-proof let alone spill-proof. Everything in my bag fell out of the opening up top and started rolling around in different directions. People kicking them left to right while I think one person actually played hacky sack with one of my mementos from the city. After several minutes collecting my things on the street, I quickly put my bag back together and tried to return my attention to the alley behind me. Behind me was no gap between buildings. It was just another concrete wall with big flashy windows expertly placed to give the building personality that meshed and flowed with the other seemingly identical structures. Even checking to make sure there was nothing remotely similar to an alley through the window did not ease my mind that day. However, I could not stick on the subject all day could I? Perhaps it was my imagination. It may as well have been an alley at the end of the block and through collecting my items from the sidewalk, I had traveled just enough distance away from said alley. Even though these realizations should have been comforting or in the least bit satisfactory, I did find it slightly disturbing that the next closest alley from where I was standing seemed to be yards away. Till the day I had found the envelope with my name properly addressed on the front within the mysterious mailbox, I had never really looked back on that day as anything remotely appealing other than a slip of the mind. When I saw that envelope already opened, I felt like I already knew what was going to be inside it. This whole interaction I had near that city's remarkably disappearing alley came rushing back. Sure, it was more than five years ago, but it rushed straight back into my main focus when I reached for that envelope and pulled a tiny sliver of cardboard out that had the phrase "The End is Never" written in blue marker. To be continued...