Well, the idea is strange, and the inspiration behind it is a smidge
embarrassing (it involves a savage garden song. . . for shame). But hey,
if you guys like it, why not keep it going?
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Please don't judge the fic by this stunningly witty disclaimer.
* * * * * * * * *
The Credo of Luca "Spot" Conlon
~*~
What I believe. . . well, not all that much, now that you mention it.
I believe. . .
I believe. . .
Christ. There's gotta be something. . . oh, here we go. I got it.
Here's something. I believe in me.
Yeah, that's right. I believe in me, in my own two hands, my own two fists. I believe that everything I need, I can get with these fists. My fists. See em? They may be small, but you won't be laughing long, not when your nursing two black eyes and shitting out teeth for the next month or so. Cause my fists may be small, but they're strong. Just like me.
There. That's another thing.
I believe that I'm small, but I am mighty.
I believe that Spot Conlon don't need no one or nothing to get by, cause I made it this far all by myself. Me. I did it. And that's another thing.
Fate; I don't believe in it. Not for a second.
Though it's a pretty nice thought, aint it? A plan for everything, a path for every person. Que sera sera and all that goddamn trash- whatever will be will be. You don't got the job you wanted? No problem. It wasn't meant to be. Didn't screw Mrs. Perfect when you had the chance? Let it go. It just aint in the cards. Never went to France? To Spain? Never went anywhere at all? Don't matter- it'll happen when it happens, if it's even supposed to happen.
There, you see how nice that is? You see how easy? Fate. It means all you gotta do is sit back and wait for your destiny to ride up on a white fuckin horse and carry you off down the path chosen for you.
Bullshit.
There are only two paths in this world, as far as I can see: the path you take, and the path you don't. The things you will do, and the things you won't do. Me, there aint a lot I won't do, now that I know. Cause once you figure out the game, you learn to play around the rules. It gets a helluva lot easier to seize the day when you know for sure that there aint no one or nothing seizing it for you.
That's how I see it, each time I pick a genuine leather wallet from a rich man's vest pocket, each time I feel my knuckles grind into bone, each time I pull the trigger. That's all I'm doing, see. I'm just seizing the day.
Fate.
Get outta here.
Let me tell you what fate's done for me. It got me born behind a fishing shack on the docks a' Brooklyn. It got me left there for two days, bundled up in a rusted old lobster trap with a bald and dirty towel and a note on the back of a diaper that said "pleez, luk after my baybee." It got me found by a booze jockey who. . . who wasn't the father I had in mind, any more than I was the kid he had in mind. That's what fate's done for me. Everything else, I done for myself.
That's what I believe.
I believe I aint gonna be here forever. Let Jacky Boy have his Santa Fe, wherever the hell that is. Let Cappy have his Maine and let Manca have his Italy. Me, I think I'll head up some place cool, some place nice and cold. I don't much like swimming, and I can't stand the heat; the way it lays across ya like sandpaper. Give me wind, give me snow, and lots of it.
That's another thing. I believe I'm gonna roll around in the snow one day, I'm gonna jump and run in it, 'stead of freezing in it. Yeah, I like that.
I believe that when I get up north, I'll get to be a kid. Not a leader, not a tyrant, not a goddamn martyr. Just a kid.
Well, when it comes down to it, I believe I'm lying to myself there. I'll always be a leader. It's the way I am. . . what's so bad about that? Who else would lead if I didn't? Who else could do it all, everything I do, and still sleep at night? Yeah, that's what I thought.
Just one more thing.
I believe in God. I believe there is a God, and I believe that when I meet the guy, He'll forgive me for who I am, and all the things I done.
Least I sure as hell hope He will.
* * * * * * * *
So. . . what say the masses? Should I continue with the newsie credos, or keep my day job? Oh, here's a thought. Tell me in a REVIEW. . . *nudge cough wink* And if you deem this fic worthy of continuation. . . I hope I hope. . . who should come next? Well, have at you, masses!
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Please don't judge the fic by this stunningly witty disclaimer.
* * * * * * * * *
The Credo of Luca "Spot" Conlon
~*~
What I believe. . . well, not all that much, now that you mention it.
I believe. . .
I believe. . .
Christ. There's gotta be something. . . oh, here we go. I got it.
Here's something. I believe in me.
Yeah, that's right. I believe in me, in my own two hands, my own two fists. I believe that everything I need, I can get with these fists. My fists. See em? They may be small, but you won't be laughing long, not when your nursing two black eyes and shitting out teeth for the next month or so. Cause my fists may be small, but they're strong. Just like me.
There. That's another thing.
I believe that I'm small, but I am mighty.
I believe that Spot Conlon don't need no one or nothing to get by, cause I made it this far all by myself. Me. I did it. And that's another thing.
Fate; I don't believe in it. Not for a second.
Though it's a pretty nice thought, aint it? A plan for everything, a path for every person. Que sera sera and all that goddamn trash- whatever will be will be. You don't got the job you wanted? No problem. It wasn't meant to be. Didn't screw Mrs. Perfect when you had the chance? Let it go. It just aint in the cards. Never went to France? To Spain? Never went anywhere at all? Don't matter- it'll happen when it happens, if it's even supposed to happen.
There, you see how nice that is? You see how easy? Fate. It means all you gotta do is sit back and wait for your destiny to ride up on a white fuckin horse and carry you off down the path chosen for you.
Bullshit.
There are only two paths in this world, as far as I can see: the path you take, and the path you don't. The things you will do, and the things you won't do. Me, there aint a lot I won't do, now that I know. Cause once you figure out the game, you learn to play around the rules. It gets a helluva lot easier to seize the day when you know for sure that there aint no one or nothing seizing it for you.
That's how I see it, each time I pick a genuine leather wallet from a rich man's vest pocket, each time I feel my knuckles grind into bone, each time I pull the trigger. That's all I'm doing, see. I'm just seizing the day.
Fate.
Get outta here.
Let me tell you what fate's done for me. It got me born behind a fishing shack on the docks a' Brooklyn. It got me left there for two days, bundled up in a rusted old lobster trap with a bald and dirty towel and a note on the back of a diaper that said "pleez, luk after my baybee." It got me found by a booze jockey who. . . who wasn't the father I had in mind, any more than I was the kid he had in mind. That's what fate's done for me. Everything else, I done for myself.
That's what I believe.
I believe I aint gonna be here forever. Let Jacky Boy have his Santa Fe, wherever the hell that is. Let Cappy have his Maine and let Manca have his Italy. Me, I think I'll head up some place cool, some place nice and cold. I don't much like swimming, and I can't stand the heat; the way it lays across ya like sandpaper. Give me wind, give me snow, and lots of it.
That's another thing. I believe I'm gonna roll around in the snow one day, I'm gonna jump and run in it, 'stead of freezing in it. Yeah, I like that.
I believe that when I get up north, I'll get to be a kid. Not a leader, not a tyrant, not a goddamn martyr. Just a kid.
Well, when it comes down to it, I believe I'm lying to myself there. I'll always be a leader. It's the way I am. . . what's so bad about that? Who else would lead if I didn't? Who else could do it all, everything I do, and still sleep at night? Yeah, that's what I thought.
Just one more thing.
I believe in God. I believe there is a God, and I believe that when I meet the guy, He'll forgive me for who I am, and all the things I done.
Least I sure as hell hope He will.
* * * * * * * *
So. . . what say the masses? Should I continue with the newsie credos, or keep my day job? Oh, here's a thought. Tell me in a REVIEW. . . *nudge cough wink* And if you deem this fic worthy of continuation. . . I hope I hope. . . who should come next? Well, have at you, masses!