Caged Boy Sings

All I know is that I am a writer.

CAGED BOY SINGS IS CURRENTLY SOLD OUT

That title feels ominous, and kind of douche-y for some reason. But it is still currently and unfortunately true. Everyone should avoid ordering an online copy until further notice, but if you’ve placed an order I don’t want you to worry, because all purchased copies are accounted for and on the way. Thank you to all of those who have already ordered. It means a fuck ton. Second round of printing is underway, kids. Copies should be showing up here in a few days, and I’ll update you as soon as as they’re available. Much love.

-CBS

CAGED BOY FLIES: A FAREWELL (FOR NOW)

"Caged Boy” is a fantasy. A character and an affectation. An alter ego I dreamed up to help me brave all the eyeless storms that life tends to throw at you. When I was writing the blog Caged Boy Sings, people would often write me and tell me that they wished that they could be like me, and I would always say the same thing to them. Cary Grant said something similar. He said: “Everyone wants to be Cary Grant. Even I want to be Cary Grant.” I’m not at all trying to imply that everyone wants to be me, I’m just saying that I wish that I could be like Caged Boy, too. He’s fearless. He wanders along the bars of his cage howling at the moon, refusing so stay quiet. He shows people who they are whether they like it not, and throws his shit at those who come to gawk at him. He’s a freak. A snarly toothed pariah who isn’t afraid to stand alone. He’s a rebel and a martyr. He’s a hero who stole your heart, and he saved my life.

The real me is nothing like Caged Boy. The real me is an insecure wallflower who never seems to know the words to the song, always missing the beat and coming in at the wrong time. The real me is easily frightened and is always practicing the lines of what he should have said instead of what he actually said in a moment that has already passed when he had the opportunity to defend himself. The real me struggles with his sanity most days and has a hard time being brave. Everything scares me, which is why I needed Caged Boy to step in and fight my battles or me. Because nothing scares him. He carried me through one of the darkest periods of my life, because I was alone in those dark moments and couldn’t fight the light. He didn’t know where to find it, either. He couldn’t, because he was a caged beast who didn’t have the keys to set himself free (which was my responsibility to find them), but he still stood by me. He stood up for me. Nobody’s ever done that for me before. Nobody. Because of him, I was not alone. He never left me side, even when we both grew tired and felt like giving up. He stood by me until we both finally saw the first sign of the light, together.

This book stands as the end of something. It’s a marker. It closes the chapter on the first act of my life: My first twenty five years of being a human being, and it does abruptly, and uncomfortably. It brings the curtain crashing down and drops the chandelier on a lot of people’s heads. I have no choice but to move on now. I’ve no say in the matter. It’s over. It’s time to move on. I stand now at the edge of the storm, watching it as it moves on, away from me, not being able to shake the feeling that another hurricane will soon roll in, and another one will roll in, because that’s life. Life is an eyeless storm that moves through difference cycles of challenges, tribulations, and triumphs. You collect keys along the way, unlocking different parts of your mind, and character, that give you the tools to weather that fucking bitch like a boss. It all depends on if you have the balls to keep going, and when faced with another cage, if you have the balls to move through the storm to find the keys. It’s like some Super Mario shit, or at least that’s how I look at it sometimes to make it easier to stomach.

I have two keys now. One for me, and one for him. One to unlock me from my uncertainty about who I am, which is that I am a writer. No more and no less, and that’s all I need to know for my second act. The other key is to set Caged Boy free, because he’s granted me two wishes already, and has been waiting patiently for me to let him go. So step into the light, my angry indignant contrarian friend. Spread your wings and disappear into the sky. You’ve won, boy. This book will set you free, so fly away from me. And I don’t want to see you back here again, because you’re too good for this world. There will always be an empty cage in my heart with your name on it, and I will miss you dearly, but you don’t belong down here with me. You belong in the sky.

You belong above the storm.

Caged Boy Sings: The Book, now available at www.cagedboysings.com - direct link

AIR

I don’t like the ocean
the water is too pure
too arrogant
too aggressive
it tosses you around 
like you’re it’s bitch
pushes you out on to the sand
and then drags you back in
just so it can throw you back out again

I like rivers
because the water has lived
It’s been stagnant and slow moving
and collected diseases and fended them off
It’s been full and has flowed over
and been sucked into the sky against it’s will 
at times it’s pulse has been strong
and at times it has been weak
the water is murky and full of shit
and it flows anyway into safer, cleaner places
and has flowed back into the shit after it thought that it had finally gotten it right
but no matter how much shit it flows through,
it still flows
and even though it has nothing to offer you
you and the moon are always welcome

It’s easy to judge a hurricane
but a hurricane is just air
that wants to be free
it’s air that’s tired of being breathed in
and used
and made into something that it’s not
it’s air that’s tired of the empty promises
that the ocean has to offer
so it rebels and fights back
takes what it needs
and goes looking for revenge
on those who have taken advantage of it
only to realize that it was wrong in those actions
and not long after that
it fades away forever
leaving miles of destruction behind
in it’s wake
I like hurricanes, too
because I understand a hurricane
I get it
I know what that feels like

PHONY

if I run into one more one night stand
in this small ass world
and maybe it’s not that the world is so small
maybe I’m just really big
or at least that’s what I tell myself
because you have to lie to yourself a lot
to make it through your days
when they always start and end with reality
I’m always waiting for the real me to die
and the fantasy version of me to take over
because there’s the real me
and then there’s the movie version of me
which helps to distract the real me from myself
you have to lie to yourself a lot
when reality is all that you have to keep you company
and you spend every day having to live
in the shadow of a memory

The first physical copy of Caged Boy Sings: The Book. Complete with over 150 pages of new content. Now available for pre-order at cagedboysings.com.

 www.cagedboy.sings.com - direct link

The first physical copy of Caged Boy Sings: The Book. Complete with over 150 pages of new content. Now available for pre-order at cagedboysings.com.

www.cagedboy.sings.com - direct link

Some cover art done for my book by the fabulous artist Erin Plew.  Caged Boy Sings The Book is still coming, kids. I’m not entirely sure how to describe it, but let’s just say that if Chuck Palahniuk and Oscar Wilde got Jackie Collins Pregnant, and Sylvia Plath and Chelsea Handler performed the abortion, the fetus would look something like Caged Boy Sings. It’s an amalgamation of so many different emotions, characters and experiences. It’s everything, it’s nothing, and it’s shaping up to be one hell of a nasty little piece of work. Pre-order at cagedboysings.com or pick up your copy on September 1, 2014. You won’t regret it.

 www.cagedboy.sings.com - direct link

Some cover art done for my book by the fabulous artist Erin Plew.  Caged Boy Sings The Book is still coming, kids. I’m not entirely sure how to describe it, but let’s just say that if Chuck Palahniuk and Oscar Wilde got Jackie Collins Pregnant, and Sylvia Plath and Chelsea Handler performed the abortion, the fetus would look something like Caged Boy Sings. It’s an amalgamation of so many different emotions, characters and experiences. It’s everything, it’s nothing, and it’s shaping up to be one hell of a nasty little piece of work. Pre-order at cagedboysings.com or pick up your copy on September 1, 2014. You won’t regret it.

www.cagedboy.sings.com - direct link

"I flip open the book in front of me and land on a picture of Peter Pan leading Wendy out her window to Neverland, which warms and breaks my heart at the same time. It reminds me of my childhood, and when I believed in shit like that. When I believed that when something goes wrong and the monsters decide to come for you, some fantastical imaginary friend from the box of VHS tapes under the tv would somehow just know that you were in trouble and would come to your rescue. It’s such a bitch when the day comes where you finally have to shed your fantasies, and no matter how long you try and put it off, you eventually and unfortunately have to grow up. Because after your teenage years start melting away, after all the beer bongs, backseats and premature broken hearts, life will inevitably start dragging you kicking and screaming headfirst into adulthood, and you have no say in the matter. There’s no rewind button, and you can only put yourself on pause for so long after the moment when you realize that your parents aren’t super heroes and that they aren’t always going to be there to fight your battles for you. There’s always going to be periods of time in life when it’s going to be just you, and that if you’re going to make it, you have to be your own hero within a reality that can be so hard to stomach. In my heart I know that nobody’s going to come rescue me from this, and that it really is all up to me. Nobody’s going to come for me in the way that I want them to. Nobody’s going to save me. So whatever, fuck it. I guess I’ll just do it myself. I’ll save me instead. But god fucking damn it, I wish he was real. I wish that I was someone’s Wendy Darling. I wish that someone braver and stronger than me would show up out of the blue and rush me off to the sky and to a place where I would be young forever. But it was in that moment, this moment, that I let the fantasies fade and accepted the reality that I’ve stumbled into, and that I will learn how to fight my monsters on my own if I have to. But if for whatever reason all our fantasies ever decide to switch places with our bitter realities, and it does actually fucking happen, if I ever break free from this rusty cage and fly, then so help me God, if you’re like me and you’re ever in trouble, expect me, because I will fucking come back for you. I promise.

I let out a melodramatic sigh and roll my eyes at myself and my constant stream of overly-analytical poetic thoughts. I stare at the picture for a few seconds, reluctantly pick up a green crayon off the table, and slowly begin adding color to the blank page."



- An excerpt from Caged Boy Sings: the movie extravaganza.  Or maybe I meant to say book.  You’ll find out soon enough, but either way, it’s coming soon. 



Friends,

I have (official) news for you.  But before we (officially) begin, there are some things that I would like to say to all of you.

What I want all of you to know, first and foremost, is that you’ve saved me, and I mean that from the bottom of my heart.  Remember at the end of Titanic when Rose is all old and crusty, and she’s all like: “Jack Dawson saved me, in every possible way that a person can be saved.”  Well, what I’m trying to say is that you guys are my Jack, except I would have made room for you on that fucking door. The amount of kindness I have received as a result of this blog has been nothing short of life saving, and I have never once taken it for granted.  I haven’t quite figured out how to thank you, but I will find a way.  I promise.

So you may have seen some of my suggestive and moderately campy teaser style advertisements this past week, and I apologize, but I finally figured out how to crack Photoshop and I couldn’t help myself.  So anyway, here’s the official announcement coming straight from me:  

Presented by Lost & Found Fiction

Caged Boy Sings: The Book 

Coming September 1, 2014

Now available for pre-order at: www.cagedboy.sings.com

www.cagedboy.sings.com - Direct Link

I actually finished the book two days ago (two weeks past my deadline.  Sorry Buchanan), at a Waffle House on my 25th birthday.  It was actually finished at the same Waffle House where I met Dee Dee, the “fictional” character from the story “Dinner at Waffle House.” 

The book is now available for pre-order, and all pre-ordered copies help pay for the cost of printing, so, as a small way to say thank you, all pre-ordered copies will be signed by the author.  And although much of the book’s content will come directly from this blog (after a heavy dose of editing), the book will also feature 70-90 pages of new material.  I can’t give you an exact number just yet, because it’s still being edited, but I can tell you that almost half the material that’s being featured has never been read before by anyone(aside from my editor), and it’s some of my strongest work, or at least that’s what I’ve been told.  Let is also be known that one of my now good friends, Radha, will be publishing her stunning book of poetry on the same day.  Her book is called “Coffee Cup.”  It’s available for pre-order as well, and can be found here:

Coffe Cup - Direct Link  

I want you to know that I’m not leaving this blog behind.  I’m not going to be one of those writers who gets published and then just leaves everyone in the dust.  I know who I am now (probably because of you-all), and I know where I came from.  You guys are the reason this has happened to me.  Whether it be a re-blog, an encouraging comment, or a warm hearted message (and I’m sorry if I’m getting all moony on you and coming off as some pageant contestant), you really are the reason that this has happened to me, and I’m not going to ever fucking forget that, or take that for granted.  You gave me wings, and I hope that one day I can figure out a way to do the same for you. This blog is not over, and I’m formulating a plan. Let’s just say it might help you fly one day.  

All my love,

“Caged Boy Sings”

AUTHOR DESCRIPTION:

“Cameron Beyrent is just another wannabe writer who barely passed the language arts section on his GED test. He writes anyway though, regardless of what he has, or has not, been taught. Having always been someone who has favored the more shadowy parts of the human psyche, his goal as a writer is to bother you, unsettle you, and take you to places that most people like to pretend don’t exist within our mind-numbing society. He writes for the underbelly, the long shots and the losers, and for those who have been dragged through the gritty dark circles of life against their will.

Beyrent’s first work, Caged Boy Sings, is based almost entirely on an anonymous blog written over the last two years. His work was recently discovered by Lost & Found Fiction, an independent publishing company that he’s honored to join. The meaning of the word “home” is still unclear to him, but regardless of the definition he settles on, his heart will always and forever be firmly planted in Nashville, Tennessee.”