 
### At the feet of a Dying Giant _by Stanley G.Ray_

### © 2014 Stanley G.Ray _distributed by Smashwords_
PART I : COLD MORNINGS

CHAPTER 1 : The Self-loathing Slacker

I turn around in bed, trying to get more comfortable and to clear my mind. I have no idea who I am. I used to think that I was like water, constantly changing, never staying the same for long. Now I realize I`m more like smoke, wind blowing through me, slowly but surely evaporating me completely into thin transparent air. The difference is slight, really. This is the fourth time I wake up this morning. I've been snoozing for a while so that I don't have to actually get up and deal with that damned biology exam I should be taking today. I don't really care about passing and I'm not proud of that. I guess I have never had that much interest in school, even though I love to read and learn new things. Nope, I don't care. The real problem is how disappointed my parents will be. I am pretty sure that they are getting tired of my shit constantly landing in their laps.

I'm not sure how I got where I am. I am stuck in this old, dirty room with no curtains. It smells vaguely of potato chips and unclean socks. The floor has splinters everywhere and there are naked holes in the walls showing me the pipes of the building. At least the rent is somewhat cheap.

I lay in bed, awake, waiting for the alarm to go off again.

I think to myself 'God, or whatever entity supposedly exists, I am such a little shit...'.

I also think there might be some drug-related brain damage, because I can`t seem to do anything right. I am kind of just rotting away. Feeling unnatural, like a plastic bag in the forest.

There is some invisible issue that haunts me, and I am going crazy trying to figure out what it is. My exam starts in 20 minutes and I`m still at home watching television and touching my junk from time to time. Guess I`m not going. I know it`s irresponsible, and I would really like to give a fuck but I can't. Could the invisible issue be that I'm being really irresponsible right now?

Nah.

This is the third time I fucked up my exams. Maybe it`s not meant to be? It could also be that I`m just a lazy dickhead.

Tomorrow is Friday. I guess I could go see the pretty girl next door. Actually, I should not show myself around people right now since I feel like shit in the mud and I was pretty rude to her last time I saw her. I was pretty high on coke and kept yelling at her to get the fuck out of my room for some reason. Fucking idiot...

On another note I`m passively shitting my pants over a possible encounter I might have with this half-psycho drug-dealer. We used to hang out together a while back. Smoking weed, stealing beers and our favorite activity; smoking on the porch while we judged people that walked by. I didn't exactly leave on a good note though. A certain work-proposition got thrown my way, and I'm just not willing to give up life as a normal member of society.

Normal is a pretty loose term here since I have done some questionable stuff but they were done out of chaos and idiocy, not of premeditated professionalism. I'm not saying I didn't consider it, but I much rather want to try a legal profession first.

This guy is a mean son of a bitch though; hope I never see him again. It's one thing to have fun, but I fear I might really get into the business side and go completely off the rails.

Noises, shadows and such freak me right the fuck out of my mind and right into the fear-soaked gutter of my own consciousness. I get out of bed and look around the room, somehow expecting it to be different from last night. It's freezing in here, the air is sharp. As I try to put my clothes on slowly, my phone rings. I put my shirt on and calmly pick it up.

"Hello." I say slowly, in the low voice that says "this better be really good because I was out last night and I don't need any shit thrown at me this early in the morning since my head feels like it is literally going to explode".

"Hey..." a girl's voice, don't know her but she sounds like she regrets making this call. I swear, if this is a telemarketer...

She continues "It`s Kate, from the club last night? God, you probably don`t even remember me..." she says with a cute little laugh at the end.

Why is she calling me in the morning?

"Kate! How could I forget? What`s going on, beautiful?" I usually give out a lot of numbers, so when someone actually calls back it's really hard to know if I'm excited about this or not. I drink a lot.

I talk with her for a while and we end the conversation on a high note. I look at the time and realize its in the middle of the day. I throw the phone on the dirty pile of clothes lying next to my bed. I roll up a sizeable joint and fall asleep after smoking it.

Dreams are much better when you're high.

What feels like two minutes later, but in reality is probably a couple of hours later, I hear the phone ring again. I pick up, somewhat dazed and startled. It`s Kate. I smile and tell her to wait for me by the door. I slide the weed under the bed and go outside to greet her.

As I open the door, I smile at her. She really is beautiful. It feels like just by looking at her, I know that this life offers lots of joy. Crime, exams, death... None of these things concern me anymore. This girl removes those things.

"Hey there, come on in." I say to her.

One thing led to another and we make out. She is really slow to get into it and we cuddle even before we start having sex. A little weird, but I don't mind.

I can feel she had been hurt somehow, that she needs some comfort. She holds around me tightly and i gently place her down on the bed and we start taking off our clothes. I'm on top of her and we just grope each other gently and kiss and then I'm inside her. She thrusts upwards and grinds against me, while I lick her ear and grab her boobs. Heavy breathing coming from both our mouths.

Actively breathing heavily, even when not at the appropriate level of arousal, enhances pleasure both mentally and physically.

I get up and turn her around. She pushes her ass out towards me, and i grab her by her breasts and force her into an upright position while I enter her slowly. Play with her boobs for a while, then grab her by the throat and gently massage her clit. I can feel she is about to come. Her pussy tightens around my dick as she moans loud enough for the neighbors to hear. They can probably see us as well, since there are no curtains on this dirty window anyway. It becomes increasingly difficult to both be inside her and flick her clit, so I just lay her down and grab her hair to maintain balance. She starts shaking and screaming into the pillow and jumps off me. I lay next to her for a while, trying to calm her down as she is shaking and laughing. It is these moments that make me feel like a man. What else do I need? Besides a drink of course.

Why do the exam when I can do this lovely woman instead? She laughs a lot and then starts blowing me. I don't need to go into detail here though, let's just say she cuts through the bullshit and goes to town. Nice.

A cumshot on the cheek later, few words are spoken between us, as we lay here in bed.

Feet entangled her head rests on my shoulder. Time is standing still, and silence fills the room. I feel like maybe she wants me to say something, but no words are really needed. Her eyes are slowly flickering around my body, never resting more than a second on my eyes. Our eyes meet and I see something deep within her that is for some reason unexplainable. A connection beyond sex, even though all we have been doing so far is fucking. I might still be high.

She moves closer, tightening the space between us. I brush her hair lightly, slowly. I don't want to stop. I feel like both are harboring a secret wish of staying in this room just a while longer. A desperation none of us reveals, yet both feel within the other. My heart is uneasy, but at rest. She whispers in my ear. She tells me her fears. She asks me about the scar I have on my chest; a small symbol, which some believe to be the symbol of the devil and god both. To me it simply means that I shall never forget that pain is a crucial component in life. We are born through it, we live through it, and we die with it. It also reminds me to believe my senses, and to cut through bullshit. I tell her a lie but I'm not sure she believes it. I don't want to discuss it.

It doesn't matter. She slowly stands up and goes to take a shower while I roll a cigarette for us both. Clothes come on once again and we leave my apartment together. She is going to meet a friend. I`m just getting something to eat from some fast-food joint. We stop and look at each other, hug semi-awkwardly and go in different directions. None of us looking back, I like to think that we both of us are thinking about it.

I walk around for a while, looking at the scenery this beautiful town has to offer. A bum with no teeth falling straight down on his face while people are slowly gathering around him, trying to help. I guess that's why he doesn't have any teeth. Didn't even occur to me that I should help until I've already walked way past the whole scene.

The sun is shining warmly. The kind of weather where the wind itself carries heat and gentle energy.

I recognize a familiar figure walking slowly up the street towards me. Crude tattoos on his arms, white wife beater and Adidas pants.

" Yoo! What's up Grey?" He hollers, putting his arms up.

I laugh and greet him with a handshake. As we walk together he's telling me about what he has been up to lately. We exchange pleasantries and I'm surprised to see him in broad daylight so far from his house.

"So where you going ,Thor?" I ask him.

"Ah I've just been collecting some money bro, going to meet the guys now. You should come with me dude, been a long time."

I look at him. I guess he has no hard feeling about last time. That being when I accidentally insulted him a couple of times when I was drunk. I've seen this guy fight and he is an animal, which makes me truly believe I must have been crazy for even talking back to him. Did I mention he is that drug dealer I was worried about?

We go over to a penthouse apartment overlooking the river. A few familiar faces are here. The light shines through the dirty windows. People are dancing, talking and laughing. It feels like being at my very own private club. The place reeks of weed, beer and a slight hint of vomit. The music is just loud enough for me to hear the words other people are saying. I'm more than a little nervous, as there are a couple of old acquaintances that are giving me the evil eye.

'Look at this fucker, walking in here.' I can sense them thinking.

I can't believe this; some of these guys are fresh out of the insane asylum. I mean that very literally. I can't leave now though, that would escalate a potentially bad situation, since I just got here it might be insulting to leave.

I hang around drinking, smoking weed and doing a couple of lines. A beautiful blonde sits next to me. I walk home with her, completely fucked up. At one point I can swear she skinny dips in some fountain.

Things get very blurry and I wake up the next day in her bed at the other side of town. Her place smells soft and clean with a faint hint of pink glowing through the room. I nudge at the (now slightly-less-pretty) woman next to me, but she is sleeping heavily. I get up and put my clothes on, stumbling through the room with severely reduced balance. I cannot seem to find my shoes though. My socks are dirty as shit. I walk outside and the sunlight blasts me in the face like a military-grade flash bang.

People are walking around, wearing suits, going to work. Here I am without any footwear, an animal smelling like sex and alcohol, and looking like shit. I make my way home and jump in bed right away. My head hurts like a bitch and my heart is pounding through my chest.

Here I am lying in bed, once again, in my shitty little room watching television.

It`s funny; when I was a kid, I was the most righteous asshole ever. Did everything right, although I'm not sure why I even bothered that. Now, however , I`m avoiding responsibility at every turn, trying to bury myself in the comfort of quick, cheap joys. I was fired from my last job, and I`m going to get fired from

my current job also. The last time I called my boss a 'raging bitch', and this time I will get fired for simply not showing up. Yup, that kid would most likely kill himself, had he known what an asshole he would turn out to be. I fall asleep thinking about that, after I notice that there is some sort of fog gathering outside. I wake up, it`s not tomorrow yet. I go to make some food, the Irish guy next door scares the shit out of me while I`m cooking. I get startled and he laughs and goes to get some cider that he made himself. "We should have a drink, sometime." He said handing me a cup of the cider. "Sure, but I have work tomorrow. This is good by the way. I like it." I answer, still a little startled. It`s downright awful what drugs do to the mind. It's like one simply borrows happiness from the future, a simple trick, yet I fall for it every time.

Next day I wake up instantly from the alarm, which is a rarity for me. I chug the cider I left from the day before. Shower, leave for work. Same shit. I take the bus downtown, buy some smokes and see my bus at the bus stop. I run towards it and knock on the door. The driver looks at me and just drives off.

"What the fuck?! You asshole!"I yell at him in a surprised way, not overly aggressive.

I turn around and people are automatically averting their eyes. This job sucks ass and I want to die. I look up at the sun, its really bright.

Chapter 2 : The Burned Eyes

The next day I wake up without a clear plan.

I need to go to work, I guess...

I feel disconnected. As I am sitting on the bus stop I suddenly feel it; an indescribable feeling like some moment of true and intense clarity. It feels like my true first heartbeat. There is no doubt. No desperation or fear. No depression.

'This is all I get' I think to myself. Actually to say that I thought that just now, would be an insult to the importance of the whole thing. It's more like I feel that. Like I know it beyond doubt.

My muscles relax. A smile appears on my face. I have heard of this before, and assumed that I understood, when in fact I might have been an entitled child that took life for granted. It felt like all my craziness and anguish were tearing down a wall inside me and what they let out was more amazing than I could ever imagine. I look around at the people around me. They all look bored and miserable. I am not like them anymore and I feel sorry for them. You ever heard of the saying " There is no past or future, only the present." ? Everybody has right? Well, I felt it. The knowledge itself that knowing something, and actually feeling it , is two extremely different things, is a gift in and of itself.

It is kind spiritual. I`m not a man of religion but I can understand how one would feel required to explain this feeling somehow. It`s like explaining a color. You either see it or you never will. I`m not saying I saw an angel or anything like that, but that doesn't actually sound as crazy to me now. I don't buy all that spiritual bullshit so how come I experience this now?

The bus arrives and I get on. Now I truly feel alone. These people will most likely go their whole life without feeling what I feel now, but who is to say that my own epiphany is anywhere near similar to theirs? Either way, I kind of pity them for a second, before I realize that they should not be pitied.I enjoy every second of that bus ride. On my way home, I still feel fantastic. I love every second on that bus. I no longer have a sea of doubt or intrusive thoughts. Did I just fucking find enlightenment in the dark? I get home and lay down in bed to go to sleep, with a smile on my face. Holy shit, I'm fucking starving. I can't remember the last time I ate.

At least the soul-crushing guilt is no longer with me.

I dream.

Vividly, I dream. My alarm goes off. It`s time for work again. I go to the shower and recall the dream in a flash so suddenly I get startled.

In the dream I walk around on a road. There are no cars and it`s dark. I know I`m dreaming. I see two figures down the road. One of them is smoking and talking, while the other is just standing there listening. I slowly walk over to them. They both turn to me but I can`t see who they are. The faces are hidden in a veil of shadow.

" _Well, look who the fuck decided to show up." The one with the cigarette said._

My face is stoic. Something about this dream feels weird. As if I know I am dreaming, but with a heightened sense of importance regarding this particular moment.

" _Do I know you?" I ask._

" _We don't think so." The other guy said._

His voice had a slightly different tone or emotion behind it. My knees start hurting. Vibrating first left then right then left again, over and over. They go numb. I look down, but there doesn't seem to be anything touching them.

" _Who are you`" I ask._

The guy with the cigarettes starts laughing. "We`re you." He says.

" _Really? Well this is a lame dream I guess. It`s a little cliché don't you think? The whole meeting your true-self deal?" I say, chuckling._

Then their faces become clear. I have seen myself in dreams before, but never like this. I could see right through them. As if everything they were, was summed up like a formula in their faces.

One single truth defined them, and the complexity of it was too much to witness.

I collapse onto my knees.

" _What?! Afraid to see? Is it what we could be that frightens you?" the guy with the cigarette says._

" _You`re not me. You`re something else." I say, still on my knees._

The dream ends there. Weird, it feels really real. I brush my teeth and go down to the bus stop. I can feel something different now. It`s not like yesterday. What happened yesterday probably was just me being tired, I had spent most of the night looking at the web and didn't get much sleep. I feel like shit this morning, should not have done that I guess. I got to stop doing that. Some guy is smoking a cigarette by the bus stop. Ten minutes of waiting for the next bus, I can`t help myself and ask the guy to bum one. Even though I`m trying to quit. Don't even know why I smoke. It`s so obvious that it`s bad for you. He gives me one and helps me light it.

"Thanks." I say.

He says it`s no problem and I smoke it. I`m still pondering about last night. The bus arrives, but there are lots of people on there and I have to wait for them to get out before I can go inside the bus. Fucking people, I wish they would hurry up, it`s freezing outside. I see my reflection in the window of the bus and try to fix my hair. I flick the cigarette. I sudden sense of déjà vu surfaces. I look myself in the eye, through the reflection from the glass. I am disturbed as I suddenly recall more of the dream I had from last night.

It continues with me on my knees, talking to those guys. It`s weird, I never recall a dream so long after I wake up and move around, especially not parts from the same dream.

The one with the cigarette flicks it and immediately lights another while the other guy starts talking.

" _What you felt today was a freakish accident. It will never happen again. Tomorrow you will wake up and it will feel like before."_

I ask why.

Before I know what the fuck is going on, the bus parks at my destination and I panic and hurry up to go outside. I didn't even notice that I got on or had been riding it for fifteen minutes. I just kept thinking about that weird dream, trying to remember more. I can`t. What a weird fucking dream.I look around at the people at the bus stop where I just got off. Nothing special, just people. Not like I saw them yesterday. I go to work. I sit down at my desk and start calling. I feel miserable. Like I want to dose off, but I try to do my best because I need money.

I overhear a discussion some coworkers are having a few cubicles over. It ends with the loud guy winning. It was something about politics, I don't really pay attention to politics and can`t keep up. The sheer dynamic these people have with each other was really enough to draw me in. It`s fun listening to them argue. They should have a radio-show.

"Whatever. We are all doomed anyway. What are you going to do when the zombie-apocalypse hits us anyway? What`s your zombie-plan, man?" one of them asks.

He`s the funniest because he has a lot of stupid ideas and opinions about things, and the reaction from the more serious guy are always priceless.

I smirk.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" The guy says irritated, but still willing to play along.

I get another case of the déjà vu; twice in a day is just plain weird. Images flash before me and I recall more of the previous dream.

Last it ended I was talking to the guy without any bad smoking habits. He looks at me and says

" _That was not you. That was just a fragment of your spirit. It sent a pulse right through our body, but it is not something that will continue , unfortunately. Just a taste of something we will never have. It`s not your fault, it`s all our faults."_

The cigarette guy spits and yells "NO! FUCK THAT. THIS IS NOT MY FAULT! I did NOT vote for this pathetic little loser, fucking excuse for a human being."

He gets closer and continues: "There is no afterlife, you know that right? What you felt did not just come out of nowhere you fucking cunt. It was you. You are so hell-bent on fucking torturing yourself that you somehow dug deep inside yourself and opened something that could give us all a lifetime of happiness. There are people who actually want that, but can`t find it and here YOU are USING it for the wrong fucking reasons!"

I yell back at him. "What the FUCK are you talking about you psycho?!"

"Hello? Hello?" someone says. It`s my headset, back to the real world. I introduce myself poorly and try to pitch my sale. He hangs up. I get up and go to the bathroom. I look myself in the mirror.

"Am I on drugs? What the fuck is going on?" I mumble to myself.

I have plenty of weird fucking dreams, but this one was just eerie. I start playing it over and over again in my head trying to recall more. I sit down on the ground and close my eyes. It all comes to me.

After I ask the cigarette guy what he was talking about the other one answers for him and says :

" _Well, think about it. The best way to torture yourself is to experience true bliss once out of nowhere and never again. It will drive you mad, you will think you just imagined it all and rationalize however you can but underneath, your true self will know it was real. Basically you have spoiled yourself and you will never experience true happiness and acceptance again. You will die a lonely, bitter old man. I am sorry. Your mental issues will grow darker and seep through you and poison your soul. Your true decay has just begun."_

I feel tears coming up.

The cigarette guy just starts laughing. "Look! I told you he was a fucking crybaby, didn't I?"

" _Why are you telling me this?" I ask._

" _I don't know, we`re fucked anyway. You`re power hungry and weak and will never fix this." The cigarette guy says._

" _We are not alone here. There are billions of people exactly like us. We do not exist in the material world like you, but we exist within you as ideas of you." Says the other._

This is officially creeping me out.

" _Ideas are born and die all the time, because they are renewed by what you experience out there. We two are the oldest. The two that have been with you ever since this realm was created. We have both been to the other side on several occasions, but never for long because you have a deep-rooted grasp on the power. You are simply unwilling to share and reign over the rest of us without even realizing it. You kill off ideas when you think they are dumb, evil, weak or old and give birth to new ones which you hope will do better." I ponder on this. Silence._

Finally I ask "Are you saying I`m god?".

The guy with the cigarette literally starts shaking from the laughter that is trying to come out all at once. A loud manic laughter erupts and he walks away from us and bends forward hands on knees.

" _You are simply the one in charge right now, and you have been for some time. You see us as exact replicas of yourself, because you never see us at all. Here we all look and act different. We think differently. We are different. You are cut off from us. Some never doubt you, but most here hate you for the sheer amount of terror you bring upon us. The tragedy is of course that you don't know that you`re doing this. There are so many ideas here, that some actually believe you don't exist. They believe that there is nothing on the other side, because you are so unwilling to grant us freedom. This is the only time we will even be able to talk to you, because you just recently had a moment of clarity. Your world is dying. We need you to step down to us and give up the power to someone who will do things differently. Please. Don't abandon us. Don't keep it to yourself, let us out."_

The cigarette guy comes back. He`s done laughing. "He won`t do it. He`s a fucking power-hungry coward. We`ll never be free ------ unless we break out ourselves. Which of course only leads to multiple ideas getting out at once, something that is even worse than this loser being in charge." I look at him. I thought he just said the name of the other guy, but I forgot it instantly.

" _Okay, is this your way of telling me I am schizophrenic or have some sort of personality disorder? Real subtle."_

He punches me. I don't feel anything. I become aware that this is my dream. I can do anything here. I get up. "Well, you shouldn't have done that." I say and force him on the ground.

I open my eyes in the real world. That`s all I can remember. That must be how it ends. I kill them both probably, at least that was what I was thinking of doing in the dream. I get up and wash my face. I go back to my desk and start working. My performance isn`t the best, but if people knew what I`m thinking about, they would probably send me to a mental institution instead of complaint about my sales. I go home after my shift and sit on the bed. I think about the dream.

I`m slowly fading into madness, I think. Then again, what is madness anyway? It doesn't matter. Real or not, I have a slight inkling that dream meant something. What the hell did they mean? They`re right about one thing at least, I feel awful after experiencing the clarity from yesterday. I can`t seem to get it back no matter how I look at it. It feels like having a bicycle and riding it downhill for the first time after you learn to maintain balance but you still don't know how to pedal. I don't even care about the dream now; I just want that feeling back. I need it but don`t know how to get it. I mean, it did just come to me on its own out of nowhere. I think back.

What was I doing before I got the feeling? I was sitting at a bus stop downtown.

I get up, put some clothes on and take a bus to the exact bus stop where it happened. I sit down just like I was sitting when it happened. On the wooden bench I sit and think. I do not feel it.

I just get teasing hints of being on the right path without actually experiencing the reward. I think hard and try to remember. I sit like this for around twenty minutes.

"Fuck this shit." I mumble as I get up and head to a 7/11 to get some coffee.

I was holding coffee at the time, maybe that will help. 'Shit, maybe they put something in the water here?' I think, smirking.

I order a coffee and go back to the bus stop. There is some guy sitting there. I wait for him to get up, which he does after a couple of minutes. I sit down and start drinking coffee, looking straight ahead. I even burn my tongue like the last time. Still nothing. I give up. I sit there defeated, thinking about how I hope that dream was just nonsense. Then I stop thinking. I just feel sorry for myself, then I realize it's kind of pathetic to feel sorry for myself. Something happens. The feeling comes back like that old friend you don't see for a long time, but you still pick up exactly how you left off.It flows through me. I felt relief and a strange feeling of idleness. I am ready for anything now, but I don't have much time. I realize that now. I need to do what I want while I`m still alive. I wonder what would bring me actual joy. Several things come out at the top of my head. I want to do well at my job. I want to be fit. I want to be tough. I want to be social. I want to stop drinking and doing drugs. I want to figure out my passion in this life. I want to be happy. I don't get it. I used to tell myself these things all the time, but they actually seem doable in this weird timeless state. I want to do them now. I get it, again. There is nothing to wait for, except death. That's the only real destination you approach with certainty while waiting. I go back home feeling incredible again. I go to sleep and wake up the next day.

"God DAMN IT!" I grunt. I don't feel it anymore.

Am I chasing the dragon here or am I on to something? I go to work. I am supposed to do a double shift today. At the bus stop I do the exact same thing like the last time. I get a cup of coffee from the 7/11 , sit down on the bench and burn myself as I take a sip while I think about how awesome this is going to be. Nothing happens. I get bored with the whole ordeal for a couple of minutes and it comes dancing back. I go back home. I`m really excited. I sit in my room and do nothing for hours. My movements are so fluid! Haha! I get hungry and tired, but still unwilling to go to sleep. I just want this to last. I black out for a few hours, but I really shouldn't have. When I wake up it`s hard to get up. I just can`t, too tired.

I snooze and wake up a few hours later.

"Shit!" I yell.

I`m going to be late. Well, I would have got something to eat , except I don't have money so I take the bus to work from a different bus stop than normal. I drop a little in performance. I go home later than usual. I go home and straight to sleep. The next day I wake up and feel a strange depressing feeling. Not like any depression I have ever felt. It is something more intensified, something deeper. Something so strange I can feel the crushing weight of it and yet I sense it`s not as close to me as usual.

It`s something distant, further away, but still stronger. I get up and go to the bathroom. I look in the mirror. The creature looks back at me. I stare at myself for a while and something strange is happening. I feel like I`m in some sort of subtle nightmare. I don`t know what to make of this, so I decide to just ignore it. I take a shower and go to work. I sit at the bus stop and do my dumb little spirit ritual. I catch flashes of it, but it doesn't stick for some reason. God fucking damn it. I just want the feeling again. I need it to get through the day. The bus arrives and I get on it. The entire ride over I just feel blunt, like this particular mood was visible to every human being around me and it just darkened their day. Just me being there was enough to corrupt them in some fucked up way. Work is over before I know it and I head home to watch some more television. I want to do something else like read or work out but I just can`t. There is something within me holding me back, I just want to sleep. I`m not tired, but I still want to. I should want to eat as well, I think it has been at least four days since I ate, but I'm just not hungry. I watch television and fall asleep.

Today was my birthday.

Chapter 3 : The Drowning Man Beneath The Ice

Two weeks have gone by. I sit in my bed doing nothing in particular, just kicking some of the splinters on the floor around. I should really clean those up.

The complaining-girl is moving out tomorrow. We met in the hall earlier and I should have said goodbye, but instead I just joked around and had some fun her expense. She is sort of cute, and I call her the complaining girl because she always complaints about the funky smell coming from me and my room. I can hear her packing in the room next to me, and I kind of want to go talk to her. I decide it's best not to disturb her. That translates to: I'm too much of a pussy to talk to her right now.I sip from my water bottle and watch a movie before going to sleep. I notice that I don`t feel like my old self anymore. I feel hungry. Not for praise, food, or sex which are the usual things I long for. I long for that feeling I discovered at the bus stop. Somehow it is still with me, because I know it exists. The problem is that the feeling is not actively in me anymore. It`s just passive. Its evasive, hiding in the background. I think it is a step in the right direction, because I no longer feel anxious or afraid. No paranoia or issues of that nature. I just need the feeling. I`ve spent years of my life trying to come to terms with death, thinking it will give me peace in life. I realize I`m going to die, it`s just a matter of time. I choose to use this time to find that feeling, because it`s the only way I can truly feel alive.

It was like cold water on freshly burnt skin. The pain of mortality is still in play, but the sheer amount of relief that peaceful feeling gives ,somehow makes you glad you got burned in the first place. It was a big deal for me, because I've been obsessed with death for some time.

Anyhow, I think I will try meditating some more because a lot of books suggest that it will help. That is of course if they write about the same thing I experienced, which I doubt because I did not meditate when it first came to me. Some books say it`s enlightenment. I laugh at the thought of me being an enlightened being. I don`t think it`s that. Rather I think that maybe it is something I was born without, and now I have found it. Maybe most people feel like that all the time, and I just stumbled upon it by mistake and that`s why this thing is such a big deal for me? I stop thinking and realize I haven`t paid attention to the movie. I rewind, lay down my thoughts and start watching.

Eventually I fall asleep. I dream of nothing. Do not misunderstand. I do dream. It`s like any dream I had before.

It is... empty. Void of any action or purpose. All I see in the dream that I can remember was colors. A light blue color, like the sky on a pleasant day. Sometimes the color changes to bright white. It flickers between these two.

I wake up and have no idea what it means. I decide not to think of it that much and go to brush my teeth. I get dressed and go to work.

After work I sit down at the bench and wait for the bus to take me home. Nine minutes. I spot a man dressed in black, smoking a cigarette coming towards the bus stop. He`s talking on the phone. There is something about him. I think maybe I`ve seen him before? The bus finally arrives and I board it.

I sit in the back.

The man sits in the front, in the reversed seat, facing the back.

I can feel his gaze on me, and when I turn to catch his eye he looks away. Something is going on. I reach down into my pocket and get my scissors. I put them in my jacket sleeve. Now I sit and wait. He jumps out of his seat and comes straight towards me. I look at him as non-threateningly as possible while I clench the scissors.

Time slows down. He walks right past me.

I look back to where he was heading, and there was some guy sitting there. They start to talk and it looks like they`re friends. Jesus fucking Christ, the paranoia can't be back. I get up and sit in front of the bus, the same seat where he was sitting. Just to be sure, so I could keep an eye out. A cute brunette sits next to me. After a short time her leg starts to rub up against mine. I am intrigued, but have bigger concerns. I look at her, wanting to smile but unable to. I don`t even know what my face looks like at this point, but I can tell it`s not good by the sudden way in which she stops. We arrive at my bus stop and I get up and slide past her. The scissors drop on the floor. Everyone sees it. I pick them up quickly and leave in a hurry. Walking home I am mad at myself.

"Why do I have to be such a psycho!? Fuck!" I think.

I collect myself and brush the whole thing off as a simple misunderstanding.

'Yeah sorry guys! I just thought that guy I've never seen before was going to kill me on the bus and I was just preparing to stab him in throat if he made any sudden movements! Haha I know , right?'

The next day, when I get home from work. I make a pizza and some sandwiches. The complaining-girl also known as Kelly is moving out today. Her grandmother comes into the kitchen. She introduces herself and tells me her granddaughter is moving out today.

"Right, she told me." I can barely get out the words because I`m stuffing my face with the sandwich I just made.

I should be polite, but it`s so delicious I just can`t stop eating. I haven't eaten in I don't know how long now. I finish eating the sandwich and start making a new one. This is the last food I have. I have no money, no phone, unpaid rent and this is the best sandwich I have ever eaten.

"You look hungry." She says with a smile.

"You have no idea. Seriously, I think this might be the best sandwich I`ve eaten." I reply.

She starts doing the dishes.

"This is a lot of dishes. How many people live here?" she asks.

"Yeah, I don`t think all these dishes are your granddaughters, and you should not have to do other peoples dishes. Me ; I don`t even use plates." I say, laughing at the end.

"Well. The girls are carrying out the furniture and I`m stuck with the dishes. There are a lot of uses for a grandmother you see!" she says winking at me.

What in the hell just happened? I laugh nervously. "Sure. I bet." I say.

Pling!

The pizza is ready. I pull it out and put it on the cardboard it was packed in. I wish her good luck with the dish-cleaning and she says bon appetite. I walk to my room and eat my food while watching television. I fall asleep, but right before I slip into unconsciousness I think that I should have helped the woman clean the dishes, or at least with the furniture. I wake up the next day. I`ve missed work. Fuck. Well I`m definitely getting fired now, time to start looking for something else. I`m glad I'm getting fired, I don`t really like that job but getting money will be tough. I lay in my bed and despair creeps in on me. It doesn`t surprise me because I`m used to the feeling. This fact scares me, but fear is also a pretty common feeling for me lately. So , all in all, I'm familiar with this whole situation. I just look around the room, numb , and I sense a certain calmness in me. No thinking or worrying. The realization that life might never get any better hits me. It has occurred to me before, so I should not be concerned, it`s probably just me being afraid and/or over-thinking things. Except if you had something similar yourself, you might know it feels just as real each time. It doesn't matter, maybe this life is just a checkpoint for my soul. If someone had told me something like this a couple of months earlier, I would laugh my ass off or feel pity for the person expressing such nonsense. I have no idea how this idea came to me. There is lots of stuff about these things on the internet, but that source is hardly reliable. I realize I'm just grasping at some far-fetched bullshit to try to comfort myself.

The weekend arrives and I`ve been to work once this week. I go to my parent`s house, mostly for food because I`m broke. There will be no more paychecks and I`m almost two weeks late with the rent. My mother yells me out when I get home.

Why are you not dressed warmer?

Why haven`t you been to work?

When are you going to grow the fuck up?

She doesn`t seem to understand that it`s all pointless anyway. It`s not that I don`t think it is essential to make a living, but I just cannot seem to give a fuck. Luckily I understand her. She has to support me, and help me out because of my own idiotic issues.

I sit in front of the computer, thinking about all this. Then I apply for business school. I have never given two shits about money, or education. I`m just trying to stop leeching of my mother, asking her for money, I can`t do that anymore. The woman is barely holding it together as it is. A drunk degenerate son, a sick husband, and a small child. All that on her shoulders is too much to bear. Not to mention her own fucked up childhood. I feel shame that I haven`t understood her troubles and burden before. I feel shame because I'm so clearly in the wrong, yet I act like I'm somehow right. It doesn`t linger though. None of my emotions linger anymore. I feel them, and then they`re gone. More like notifications, really. I leave my parents' house and go home again, where I relax and sleep some shit off. My phone rings. It's a private number. I feel tense, fear is building up. Could this be it? Is this the day they come for me? I answer. The person on the other line hangs up.

Conversation lasted: 06 seconds.

My heart beats rapidly. I hurry and put on some clothes, grab a knife from the floor. It was just laying around for some reason. Guess I`m not good at cleaning up. I leave my room and go outside to see if any cars approach. The Irish man is standing outside smoking. Could he be waiting for them? It would make sense to have someone living near the target at all times. I go outside, knife in pocket and ask the man for a smoke. My voice is not my own. It`s weaker. Like I took my regular speaking voice and added 60 % bitch to it.

"Sure, have what is rest of this pack." He says with a wry smile, as if he knows I should smoke as much as I can ;while I still can. I decide to never take from people ever again at that point.

"No thanks. I`m trying to smoke less, just need one to keep me going." I said.

It was a lie. Not the part that I was quitting, but the part where I absolutely need one right then and there. I just need to see what he is up to. I realize I don't have any shoes on and hurry back to my room to get them. When I get back he hands me the cigarette and I light it up. Nobody is coming. Why would they call me before attacking? It doesn`t make sense.

"Careful." He says.

I look at him. He points at the porch.

"Those stairs are slippery. One could easily fall." He goes on. I look him in the eye. What does he mean?

'Watch out kid, accidents happen..' ?

So I guess the paranoia is back. I definitely should stop doing drugs soon. Where do I even get the money for that?

"I have this lump under my chin. Hope it`s nothing serious, but I think it might be." I say to change the subject. It was true too, I do have a lump. I think it might be something scary.

"Well, you should check that out. It could be nothing." He walks back in.

I stand for a while, thinking I`m going totally bat-shit crazy and that I should definitely go to the doctor. A loud crack comes from my left side.

This is it. I guess I`m dead.

I startle and look over. It was just some ice that fell down from the top of the building. I walk back inside, more calm somehow. There is laughter from the second floor. It sounds almost alien to me. I don't know how I could ever laugh like that again. Then I notice I have the knife in my hand.

Did I just have an entire conversation with a guy, while holding a knife without knowing? Did I take it out when I got startled?

I walk into my room and put it down gently near the bed. My chest hurts as I write down the doctor`s number. I`m going to call her tomorrow, I think. This time I am for sure doing it. I think. My throat still hurts like a motherfucker. I get back down on the bed in my t-shirt and resume my bad habit of watching television. I fall asleep. Wake up earlier than usual. More tired than usual too, but I get up anyway. I work a double shift. Go home around nine. Meet one of my neighbors on the bus. She recognizes me. We walk through somebody else`s property. It`s much faster this way.

"I`m glad I`m not the only one using this shortcut. " I said.

"Yeah, it just goes much faster this way." She answers.

We get to my house and she is still talking. We stand for a couple of minutes and talk about the company that owns the building where I live. We agree those guys are greedy scumbags, and part ways. Nice lady. I`m so tired. I need to go to sleep. It`s too late to call the hospital, the phone lines are closed. I will have to call tomorrow instead. I wake up the next day. I am three hours late for work. Well, if I wasn't getting fired before, I sure am now.

Feels like I've thought that already.

I call my doctor and schedule an appointment for Friday. 08:30. I was supposed to work double today, instead I don't work at all. Guess I`ll watch some television again. This is pretty irresponsible, I am aware. Just can`t make myself to call in sick. Which; by the way, I think I actually am. Just not the kind of sick one talks about. My throat is clenched up, hard to swallow. That's not good for a telemarketer. The voice is important. I smirk a little, thinking of how done my boss is with me. Gotta laugh, right?

Then I frown when I think about how I`m supposed to get money when I get fired. I start to get really hungry. Don't know if I have the energy to go to the store. I order pizza. Wish I had some smokes. The pizza arrives; I get it inside and start eating. Take a nap while listening to some comedic podcast. Wake up, go back to watching television. I must just be extremely lazy. I have literally done nothing all day, yet still I feel tired.

I`ve decided to not sleep tonight so that I could look convincingly ill the next day. I got an email saying management wanted to speak to me immediately as soon as possible. This will not be pretty. Eventually I fall asleep anyway. I wake up early and check my email. No appointment. I sleep for one hour more and check it again. They want me there 15:00 for a meeting. I go to sleep, dreaming of fun and adventure for once. When I wake up, I do my usual morning routine and go to the office. I`m oddly calm and present, even though I know I`m about to get fired.

At the bus I just sit quietly. Looking out the window, while despair creeps in on me and I feel like I`m in a stupid music video. The girl next to me is smiling at me, some old guy behind me is talking on his cell-phone and laughing that hoarse old-man laugh we`ve all heard before. I go inside the administration office and find her office. She`s sitting across the table, not sure how she should begin. I know what`s coming though.

"Umm... Umm... Yeah.. So..." she mumbles.

I sit and smile calmly. Here it comes!

"I got an email saying you`re no longer needed here. Poor performance, you`re often late, it says here you don`t show up for days without as much as a text. Do you understand?"

I look at her and nod. "Yeah sure. It`s all my fault, I agree. Let`s do this."

I sign the papers and leave. She was right about all of it, I didn`t take it seriously and feel bad for letting people down once again. Actually, I'm not sure I do. I mean, it feels like I do but if I truly felt bad about it, wouldn't I have stopped doing it by now? I come home and make some tea. I`m freezing and my room is a huge mess. Old milk carton on the floor, unwashed dishes, empty beer bottles, dirty clothes, papers from my unsuccessful education-plans. I decide to clean it all up. I go to the store and buy some oranges. Come home and start watching television, since I have nothing better to do. It pisses me off , because I could be reading instead or anything else. I go outside and feel present. Alive. The air outside is so real, it feels like time itself is cutting my skin. I look up at the moon. Some sort of shadowy, moonlight-rainbow is radiating in the sky. I`ve never seen anything like it. There is no rain, the sky is completely dark. I stand there wondering how the fuck here could be a rainbow without rain. It`s a moonbow. It`s a beautiful contrast of colors.

Some of my most calming experiences in life is when I`m looking at nature through a peaceful mindset.

The next day I find myself sitting in the cafeteria at work. One of my last days, of course. All the employees are here. How did I get here? The big boss is standing in front of a buffet of Christmas-food , talking about work ethics and how well the company was doing. Jesus fucking Christ is this what my life is? I eat like I haven't eaten for some time. We finish up eating and I can sense the girl sitting next to me is looking at me, she doesn't know I notice. I look at her and she smiles. I would normally introduce myself, but why even bother. I don`t feel like I can do anything. I sit and fail at my job for a while and then we are allowed to go home. We get a Christmas present. When I get home I open it and it's a pizza-cutter. I`m going to Amsterdam in few days and need to print out the tickets before then. I guess I`ll do it at my parents. I sit on my bed. It`s weird how exhausted I am after a day of work. Days later, when I wake up I can vaguely remember a dream filled with weirdness. I look at the time. Fuck, it was a long dream to. I had slept two full days. Probably the starvation kicking in, preservation of energy and all that. I have an elevated feeling of detachment. It is just like that feeling I had at the bus stop, but different. Like looking at an object through lenses with different colors and magnitude, I can`t quite explain the feeling though. It`s almost 3 am. I go take a shower, and try to explain to myself what this feeling could be. I feel rested, zestful. I get the urge to go down to the bus stop.

Bus stop 342 was a little over 4 kilometers of walking distance. I have nothing better to do anyway. I start walking. Eventually I begin running. It`s dark out and I`m the only person here. I arrive at the bus stop. I sit down, my body exhausted but my mind sharper than ever.

This is where it all began. I don`t even know what it is, but I can feel it`s something.

I don`t think or act. I just am at the bus stop now. I`m waiting for something, but at the same time I am not waiting for anything. Locked in some contempt room in the mind I look around, feel the air. I feel my own blood rushing through my body. Extra thirsty now, I should have had some water before going out. No matter. It gets colder and brighter at the same time. People start coming outside and I`m just sitting there.

This is it Grey. You're an insane person now.

I realize I`ve been sitting here for more than 3 hours at least. People come, get on their buses and go off to work. I just sit there. I don`t even know if this is something real or imaginary, but as I like to point out ; it doesn't matter. If I`m crazy, at least I know it. I get on a bus and go to my parents. They are not expecting me, but I`m going anyway because I have nothing else to do.

I have to walk a couple of kilometers in the cold, the wind cuts and stings my face and hands.

It`s hard to move. I get home and open the door with my key.

"Who`s there?" someone instantly asks, in a worried tone.

"It`s just me." I answer as I see my mother coming into the hallway to assure herself that no burglars or bad men have entered her home.

I explain to her why I`m here and that I lost my job again. She sits me down and starts yelling.

"You are the most fucking irresponsible idiot ever! Just like your goddamn father! Living day by day, not caring for tomorrow! Do you expect me to help you out or something?! You fail at school; you fail at everything you do! You are a fucking failure. I honestly did not know that life could be so shitty until you came into my life. Don`t you think I have enough problems? You`re twenty years old for fucks sake!" there is a brief pause.

She is looking out into the room with that martyr look of hers again. Wondering what she did wrong with me, pondering what to do with a failure like me. Oh man...

The guilt.

I just sit there and nod, and agree with everything she says. I get the feeling that maybe she is wrong for yelling me out this way. I shut that thought out and decide that I do deserve it since this is not the first job I`ve lost. I mean, I did also fail at school pretty hard. She is under a lot of stress lately, I am in no position to judge her. I just sit there and take it. It would be easier if she didn't provoke me into giving her a response, just to cut me off mid-sentence to complain about me some more. Eventually she runs out of things to say and I go to my room. I lay down and try to go to sleep. She comes up into my room and tells me that she loves me, no matter how much we fight. I say that I love her too, and that I understand her frustration. She walks out. I do understand her frustration. Why can`t I succeed at anything? Why don't I even want to succeed? I go back home after some rest. I muster up the will to go to the store for some smokes. I feel oddly present. Like I`m walking through a dream. Everything seems scripted, somehow. The people. The weather. I feel for a second that I don't belong here. Felt like this before too, but never thought much of it. Need to get myself together, I`m really going nuts this time, again. A huge guy stands behind the register in the store. His hair is styled, eyes blue, he clearly uses some kind of skin product. To everyone else he looks like a well-put together kind of guy, to me he looks like a douche bag. I don't know. Maybe he`s just good at taking care of himself. Yeah. Maybe I should start doing that. Tomorrow I`m going to the doctor. I suddenly realize how my days have gone by. So fast and extremely pathetic. I pick up a book and start reading. It`s the book I got from the library , that I haven't touched in days. I read for one hour. I sit down and just do absolutely nothing. Just keep staring at the wall. I feel oddly great after. I clean some dirty dishes and go check on the washing machine. Someone else is using it. I pop some really strong painkillers that I stole from my stepfather. I sit down on the computer and start listening to some more comedy podcasts. I start playing a video game while I`m listening to it. I get tired of playing and wonder what I should do next. I watch some porn and bust a nut right on my bed. I start giggling like a retard at how disgusting that was. Don't even bother wiping it off. I do some pushups. Its getting late and I`m supposed to go to the doctor tomorrow.

The next day I go to the doctor. I sit there, waiting for her to call me in. She does ,eventually. We start talking and I explain I had not been feeling well. She tells me I have swollen lymph-nodes.

"Well, that's not the only reason I came in here today. I`ve been feeling... weird." I say softly.

She asks me what I mean, but I get the feeling she doesn't even care and is just doing her job.

"I thought my neighbor was going to kill me. I know it`s completely insane, but I can`t stop thinking about it." I say

I explain to her all the anxiety, the paranoia. She is extremely professional. Which isn`t necessarily bad, but I don't feel I can trust her with anything. The whole thing is awkward and I'm not sure I should be doing this.

" I see. Have you been taking any narcotic substances lately? Have you been stressed out?"

She asks me. This woman is intense. She looks me straigth in the eyes, her hazel eyes penetrating mine. It feels like she can already see that I'm no stranger to drugs. I decide to lie and back out of this whole thing.

"I`m going to refer you to a psychiatrist."

"No. I don't want to. I don't want you to do that. Just forget it." I say quickly.

Fuuuuuck that.

I also mention that I don't hear so well anymore. She checks my ears and says that I need to cleanse it with some water. The nurse comes in and squirts my ears full of water until a big nasty chunk of ear wax pops out.

"Damn. That's fucking disgusting." I say.

The nurse laughs and so does her daughter. I apologize for cursing. She says its fine.

"People curse more than you think around nurses."

The kindergarten was closed because of some power problem. It has something to do with the storm that apparently has been going on. That's why her daughter is here. Actually on my way here I saw a couple of trees with branches broken off. Must have been a terrible storm, I probably slept through it.

I pay for the fine service the nurse bestowed upon me and leave. I sit on the bus. I start thinking.

What the fuck is wrong with me? Am I so weak that I can`t control myself? Fuck this shit; there is nothing wrong with me. Although I do have a history of mental illness in my family on both sides. I didn't use to be like this. Don't know when this began, but now I`m not so sure "it" is anything at all. Maybe it`s all in my head. Well, yeah. Of course it`s in my head. You know what I mean. I come home. Make a pizza. Eat half of it and doze on my bed watching some crappy tv-series about ghosts. I dream of drugs and violence. I was walking around smoking different strains and enjoying the hell out of it. I am going to Amsterdam soon, so I guess that's why. At least it was a good that I didn't dream some nasty dark shit for a change. Its 2 p.m. I go to the kitchen, the Irish guy sits there. He`s eating. It smells delicious. He asks me if I`ve been to the doctor and checked out that lump I was complaining about.

"Yeah it was just some swollen lymph-nodes. Nothing to be worried about" I tell him.

As I`m saying this I notice something strange. No irrational fear of death. No anxiety.

"Good thing mate! You can`t beat that." He says with a smile.

I take my vitamins and go back to my room. Holy shit, maybe the paranoia is gone now. I should go to sleep now, but I can`t for some reason. Just can`t go to sleep. I am awake.

Chapter 4 : The Roaming Addict

How are you, how is work, where , what , who, blah blah blah.

I don`t really care, but I`ve been a real asshole to this particular person on several occasions. He doesn`t seem to care either, but I think he`s an alright guy now. I mean, I pretty much have to. Later that day, as I`m waiting for my next bus at a different stop, I spot a girl I knew once.

"Hey. I know you." I say to her from behind.

She turns around and smiles. She is a little older than me, has a cute little piercing and smiles like an angel. I always thought she was beautiful.

"Yes. Sure, I remember. Hello you." She says.

I make an exaggerated thinking face and lean to the side to get a look at her ass.

"Yep. I knew it was you." I say laughing.

"What the hell?" she asks with a mix of slight aggression, confusion and amusement.

"Oh, nothing. Just remember I still have that photo of your ass. I knew I recognized you from somewhere." I said teasingly. We laughed.

The friend from earlier was at the same bus stop as us, waiting for the same bus, but he chose to speak to another guy that we both knew from school. They look over at me as I`m talking to the girl and they look slightly agitated. A flash of a stupid, yet hilarious memory popped into my head as I looked at the confused face of the second guy.

He met me at a party once while I was making out with two girls on the dance-floor. They both had their hands on my groin, while he watched and kept commenting on it for a while.

He couldn't believe how I did that. I didn't do anything though, it just happened.

I remember laughing and talking to two other girls into having a chat with him.

" _No. NO. SERIOUSLY. This guy is the fucking KING. He just bought drinks for all his friends! Just for shits and giggles! Seriously! He is the FUCKING MAAAAAN. WOOOOO! Talk to him ladies! Make him feel good, you know?!"_

I remember drunkenly yelling something along those lines to the girls. They liked it and sat down with the fellow and had a chat. He was nervous as hell. I laughed and moved on.

Later that night though, I drank some more and became a complete asshole.

A smirk appears on my face as I`m thinking of this particular scene.

I remember coming back to this little triangle and telling the boy that he should fuck both the girls in the ass later. Of course, I wasn`t hunched over whispering, or even talking normally for that matter, no; I was shouting it at the whole crowd. I laughed my ass off and kept yelling more stupid, obnoxious sentences that I can`t even recall because I`m pretty sure my brain got selective amnesia at that point. The girls left, and the boy was a little mad.

"You better fucking delete that phone, you dick!" she yelled at me, hitting me in the shoulder. I laugh and assure her the picture is gone for good. That is true of course, but only because a friend of mine accidentally fell into the sea with my phone in his pocket, which of course destroyed the entire device for good. The girl starts talking about something. I don`t listen, she is so beautiful when explaining things. I shush her softly.

"Where do you live?" I ask. She answers.

It`s not far from where I live. My bus arrives.

"Good luck with your studies." I say and turn around to leave.

"Yeah, you too.. Okay bye!" she answers.

A few days pass. I laugh. A real laugh, because I think of something funny. I haven't laughed in so long , it feels like some sort of mental orgasm. I actually feel amazing even though I didn't sleep all night. The best so far I think. After work I go to the mall and pick up some presents. I go to an electronics store and pick up an electronic device for my mom.The lady behind the counter was just as cute as a button. I crack jokes and have a good time while I wait for her to find the package. She finds it and I pay.

"Wait, I might have to walk you out." She says.

"Well, well, I`m not sure I need the escort but sure." I answer.

"So do you walk out all your customers or am I special?" I go on.

She laughs and tells me something but I somehow overhear it. I am in a great mood like I said earlier. I just thank her for finding my package. Shame she couldn't wrap it, they didn't have any paper. I call my mom and tell her I picked it up. She gets mad.

"Put me on the fucking phone with the guy!" she says. I hang up.

I don't want her to rip that lady a new shithole. Like I said, I`m in a good mood. I go back and talk to her. Turns out the price for the product had gone up. I return it and call my mother to tell her she should buy it on the internet. It`s cheaper and gets sent in the mail. I apologize to the young girl and go to buy a present for my stepdad. It`s canvases. He likes to paint. Not much else he can do in his condition. I can sense my mood plummeting. I have gotten my last paycheck and I go and buy myself a burger, then head to the bus stop. I eat the burger and wait for my bus. It finally arrives and I get one. I have already finished my meal. Some guy stares at me, it makes me nervous. He sits in front of me and starts talking on the phone. I`m listening to music, but I turn the volume down to eavesdrop. I don't understand what he`s saying. I get off the bus and go home. On my way over there I have a strange thought. What if humans are not as great as we describe ourselves? We have no reference to our behavior or thoughts! We could literally be the species equivalence of Hitler and never even know it. Like an abandoned child in the forest, all alone, we are separate from any real guidance and that must be the true meaning of free will. Free will is not about making choices that are laid before you, one labeled as wrong, the other as right. It is about finding out for yourself what paths are right and what paths are wrong, and most importantly why. It is about learning, without looking at the cheat sheet. I have learned that it is wrong to be irresponsible, but the reason it is wrong for me might not be why it is wrong for anyone else. I cannot be irresponsible anymore, not because I think it is immoral or childish, or because I fear the consequences. I might easily just become a homeless bum in the future. The reason it is wrong is that my family deserves better. I get back to my house and realize that I have to move to another building because this one is getting renovated. None of the furniture is mine anyway so I just pack up all my clothes and my suit and drag all the shit outside. I'm surprised I have a suit. A blonde girl comes up to me and asks me if I need any help. I smile and find myself a little taken aback. This woman could be a god damn model. I'm a little embarrassed because at this point I actually do look like a hobo, three jackets on me. Three bags and a suit hanging of my back, I'm pretty sweaty at this point as well but decide to ignore all this. There are a couple of vague memories I cannot ignore though, of me being totally wasted on whatever and being a world-class asshole to her. Why would she even speak to me? Yes, this is the girl I yelled at when I was coked out.

" Oh, hi... I'm just moving to that other building. Don't want to be here when the bulldozers attack." I say , awkwardly trying to hold all the bags.

She laughs and asks me if I need some help. Once again I need a moment to understand what the fuck is happening.

" Uhm.. Yeah thanks. That would actually be really great, but you probably have better stuff to do?" I say as politely as possible.

"No , come on! Let me you help you, haha!" She says as she is coming closer and grabbing one of my bags.

I just laugh and say something along the lines of : "Well, ok then! Haha" .

We walk towards the new building which is not really far away, except when you're carrying a shitload of stuff, walking with a beautiful girl you've been a dick to, and also sweating like a fat guy in a sauna. Anyway, we keep it really light and she doesn't even bring up all the stuff that happened earlier. I would do it myself just to apologize but I'm not sure I even remember everything right. We walk past the store and I let her watch the bags while I go inside to buy some smokes. It also gives me some time to think. The cashier gives me a smirk and has the cutest attitude I've ever seen. It`s so cute I felt the need to vomit, but I also found it very endearing. She isn't that pretty physically but there is just something about her. I ask her out, but she says she has a boyfriend. I walk out with a lit cigarette and pick up the bags and continue the conversation with the blonde. We walk a bit further and suddenly my suit flies away from me and lands on the road where several cars run over it and completely destroys it.

We just look at it for a moment. I laugh. We have a good time and she helps me unpack once we reach the new house. I decide to follow her back. She climbs on my back. We get back to the house eventually and I decide to kiss her and grab her ass. However she rejects me rather fast. She laughs and basically runs away. I smirk and walk back home. I guess that couldn't have gone any other way. I thought she had to like me since she just helped me with moving. I should probably have done it differently though. Not just grab her like that.

A day passes.

Clean white snow on the treetops. As I light my cigarette I almost slip to my death on the icy ground. Luckily I have extraordinary balance. Back at the house I crack open a beer and watch some television. This specific brand of beer takes me back. Something about the taste reminds me of vomit and late nights out. I start chatting with a friend of mine from high school. He is really the only friend I have in this town. I tell him I`m going out drinking. He doubts it will be fun if I go alone. I don't know if I like going alone, but I have no one else. It`s my fault really. Losing touch with people comes naturally for me. I go outside. I slip on the stairs and bang my hip on one of the steps. "Fuck!" I whisper as i lay here for a while. This new house is more or less just like the previous place. It's newer, but more creepy somehow. It's too clean, and seriously white. A lot of new faces in here, the two Swedish girls on the top floor has captured my attention the most. One has a boyfriend, but the other one is just as pretty and single. I swear to god, I've never seen an ugly Swedish chick, its weird. There is also, I shit you not, French twins in the basement. They are athletic girls; I think they ride bikes or something. They talk at the same time and finish each other's sentences. It's hilarious. Fifteen minutes later I am at McDonalds eating a burger, talking to some girls. I get bored and go down to the club, and there is nobody there. Two younger girls engage me in idle conversation. I get to drinking and talking to these girls, one has an older boyfriend, and the other one keeps fishing for compliments saying how fat she is when she clearly isn't. Some assholes invite me over to their table. I decline, yet they keep insisting. I flip them the bird and go outside. I`m getting pretty close to being wasted by now, I give a lot of money to a homeless person for some reason. I see the assholes coming up to me again, and they start a fight out of nowhere.

Maybe it`s me?

Security comes and breaks us up and they throw me out. I start walking. It`s cold as shit outside now. I meet some old guy on a bicycle. He asks me for a light. I lend it to him, he seems cool. He invites me over for a beer. This is a little weird, but I`m not saying no to free booze in this weather .We start talking and I get a weird vibe from this guy. He asks if I want a haircut, and that it looks like I I need it. "Fuck it, ok." He cuts my hair, really short. I think it`s hilarious.

He asks if I need a haircut down there too.

Holy shit, this guy is trying to fuck me.

I get up and go home. This was a strange night, I keep thinking as I'm walking home. It's funny, I didn't take any drugs today, but I still feel rather unbalanced. I approach the door and the Swedish girl is standing outside, smoking. She giggles and says hi. We talk for a while and enjoy a cigarette together.

"So, where have you been this late at night?" She asks enthusiastically.

"Well, I got thrown out of the club and an elderly man literally tried to fuck me. All in all it was great!" I respond with a soft smile.

She laughs and doesn't quite know what to say. Fuck, who would know what to say?

"Well, if you will excuse me, I'm going to curl up in the fetal position on my bed and cry slowly while I wet myself." I say with sarcastic grin.

"Yeah, ok! I mean, my friend is in Sweden right now with her boyfriend. You could just hang out with me if you want to..." She finishes the sentence as I'm halfway up the stairs. I look at her and smile. Thank god, I really need this.

"Well... It doesn't sound quite as good as what I had planned, but I guess I can't let you be up there all alone?" I try saying this with a smile, but instead I have a huge grin on my face.

We laugh some more and go up to her room together. We sit there for a while and share a Swedish pastry she brought over. It's not that bad actually, sweet and bitter at the same time with a strong taste of nuts. We share a bottle of wine. She is worried about her father competing in some sort of marathon tomorrow. He apparently has a heart condition and should not be running. I sit closer to her, and grab her face softly and kiss her. We kiss, and our bodies are completely in rhythm. She moves like one of those charmed snakes that come out of the baskets. I think this just might be the hottest make out I've ever had the pleasure of participating in.

"If we continue, we are going to fuck." She whispers.

I try to take off her pants. She stops me. I try once more. She stops me.

"What is it?" I ask her.

She looks at me like some sort of hurt little kitty. My heart almost melts right through my chest.

"I... I can't." She whispers. I am curious as to why, but I can somehow feel that whatever reason, I shouldn't ignore it.

"Should I leave?" I ask her gently. She says no and I sit there.

"Don't worry; we don't have to do anything." I say to her.

She laughs and starts grinding me some more and then we end up fucking.

A few days later I find myself traveling to Amsterdam. This going to be a little scary. I'm sitting at the airport, waiting for my flight. I travel with a small backpack filled with clean clothes and such. I'm actually pretty tired, because I had to run for like twenty minutes to get to the bus stop in time. On the plane I meet some guy who is going to visit his wife and child in Thailand. He is a real dork, but otherwise alright I guess. He makes comments about how he is going to have sex with his own wife that make me cringe. Five minutes of this and I regret this whole thing. I decide that I'm sleepy and ask the guy politely to shut the fuck up. Eventually the plane lands and I wander off. At first I am stunned by the amount of people there, by the huge open sky, numeral buses coming and going to pick up traveling tourists from all over the world. Then, however, I am confused as to what the fuck I am doing here. Where should I go? I ask around and find out which bus goes straight downtown. I sit there, staring out the windows. At the cars, at the massive fields and trees. I laugh a little as I spot a windmill. I get off the bus at some strange crossroad. There are buildings everywhere and a little bridge, which I decide to cross. I walk around, trying to find the centre of this town. Instead I wander into a local weed shop. I get a couple of grams and sit down by myself and roll it up. I sit there just relaxing for a while. Suddenly a group of energetic guys walk in. They all sit next to me, since I'm sitting at a big table. Nothing else is available. They talk a language I don't understand at all. I can feel fear building up as I get so high that I can see right through all the 'civilized' part of humans. I can see everything they do, it is like sitting in a circle of barbarians, I have to read their communication through their actions and movements. This is weird! I am super-high right now.

"Hey friend! We are having bachelor-party right now. You should join us!" The main guy says.

A spotlight on me, what the fuck do I say?

"Nah, I don't think so." I say weakly. I get up to leave and he asks me " Are you sure? Where is the hurry?" He laughs loudly. He knows I'm high and he is fucking with me. This asshole. I laugh loudly as well.

"Fuck it! You're right! I'll join you guy, thanks for the offer friend! I was about to leave but you convinced me!" I say as I sit back down and start talking with the guys around me. We smoke for a while. Soon we get up and these fuckers are headed to some ice bar or something. It's located downtown. I follow them and the groom laughs as we get there. Bumps my shoulder and says I'm alright. I still think this guy is kind of a dick. He buys me a shot. You know, actually this guy is pretty cool. I drink a lot and get separated from the group. I wander into the infamous red light district. I expect the girls to be ugly, when in reality they are gorgeous. Soft red lights showcase their beautiful bodies and they are just standing there like merchandise. A part of me is kind of creeped out, thinking of woman as objects. Another part is an irreverent boner. I stumble through the streets and looking at the beautiful women. People are mocking them and staring resentfully at them. Other people are considering purchasing their service. Some shamelessly walk up to the windows and go inside. It's a weird freak show. Not the women, mind you. They are just working. I'm thinking about the judgmental cunts staring at them. I walk further. I can hear nails tapping at the window to the right. I turn around and some Asian girl is looking at me , making a 'come-here' motion with her index finger. I'm actually horny as hell, but is this a morally upstanding thing to do? I think about it and I guess that no, this is actually wrong. I can't just buy someone. The problem is that while my brain is thinking all this, my body is already inside getting its dick sucked. She wants me to fuck her from behind now, but I get her to ride me. I'm too drunk and high to move.

"You're druunk... You're hiiigh... Don't worry.. I'll take care of you, bad boy!" She whispers.

"Oh, how you talk.." I say as she presses her boobs into my face and starts riding me. After a while with this she tells me that I have to come soon.

" So soon? We just started!" I ask her.

"Its ten minutes past the time limit.." She says, still riding me.

Another five minutes later she gets off. She doesn't come, she stops fucking me. Just to clarify. I get kicked out, but I'm still horny as fuck, if not hornier. I run around trying to find another hooker, morality is out the window at this point. Some dude sees me and laughs.

He slaps me on me shoulder and says " Gotta get that money in her, riiight?! Hahaha.."

I just look at him but can't really formulate a response. I walk around some more. Then I see one red light still glowing. I tap on the glass. A real cute blonde. A little older but still gorgeous. Fake tits are not my preference but at least they look sort of good. She lets me in.

"Listen baby, I just fucked one of you red light girls and got thrown out for exceeding the time limit. I need your word that I am going to come with you tonight." I say to her, looking her straight in the eyes.

Never thought I would be saying that sentence.

However let me tell you, when you walk past the whore-district of Amsterdam high, drunk and horny; it takes tremendous amounts of willpower not to buy some relief.

She is completely serious.

She looks at me and says "This will be the best night of your life." The way she says it gives me a shiver down my spine and a pretty hard erection. We fuck hard. She is all over me like a lioness. Grinding, scratching, and pulling. "FUCK ME!" She yells.

I try my best to oblige. I can't come though. She, on the other hand, came once at the end.

I'm exhausted. She put her clothes on and starts giving me head. I love it. I hope she doesn't have anything though, I'm not wearing a condom. She slides next to me and says she has to go home.

"Well alright. Let's move this party to your place then." I say as I start to put my clothes on.

She just nods and tells me her car is just outside in some garage.

I get my clothes on and we walk outside. I can't believe she agreed to take me home. Then again, she promised I would come. We drive for a while, listening to the radio.

" By the way, I have a surprise for you when we get to my place." She says smiling.

'I am getting killed' is my first thought. I try to play it cool.

" Is it a butt plug?" I say.

Smooth.

We get to her building and take the elevator up. Smells like piss in here. We get to her door.

"By the way, I'm going to need to take a shower, if you don't mind." I say.

She looks at me and laughs. "You're funny."

I laugh, but I really do need to take a shower. She opens the door and inside I can hear someone watching television. Fuck! She wants me to fuck her with her boyfriend!? I am not into that, and I don't know where I am. In a foreign country, drunk and high. She sees my face and laughs. Someone comes walking towards us. Shit. Shit. I'm getting beat the fuck up.

It's.... a woman? A pretty, short little thing. Her hair is hazel brown and wet, like she was just in the shower. I literally laugh out loud from the relief I felt. Like a retard.

"Grey, meet my girlfriend." The blonde says with a giggle.

Dear God, if I ever doubted you...

She comes up to me and greets me and invites me to a glass of wine. I am shocked and excited. "Yes, lets drink." Is all I can say. The blonde jumps in the shower and i talk for a while with the brunette. They have been together for two years and lived together around six months. I laugh nervously like a twelve-year old. I am not prepared for this. The blonde comes out of the shower all wet and smelling delicious. "How is everything going here?" She asks smiling. The brunette laughs."It's going well actually."

I get up and go to take a shower. I stand in the shower, supporting myself with my hands not to fall over. I viciously scrub my dick with all the special vagina soap the girls have stores in the shower. I get out and walk out into the living room. The girls are gone. I grab the bottle of wine and take a big chug. The television is off; I walk to the window and look outside. It's dark and not much of a view. I walk around trying to find the girls. I open a door and there they are, in bed together. The huge bed has all white bed sheets and pillows. The room in itself is mostly white. They are looking at me, both with a devilish grin. Like they know they are literally making my life a whole lot better just by sleeping with me and they are getting off on it. Fucking angels. I climb in bed, and I'm already rock-hard. We kiss and touch each other all over. I'm burning up like I have a deadly fever. They play with my dick and squeeze my balls. The brunette takes off my underwear and throws it away. She starts sucking my dick while I make out with the blonde. I go into some kind of frenzy and bounce up and flip the brunette over and start fucking her from behind. The blonde stops me by making out with me. The brunette lays on her back and the blonde climbs on top of her. I look down at the two beautiful hairless pussies and see that the brunette is fingering her girlfriend. The blonde is stimulating the clit and once again I am fucking the brunette raw. Some kind of bottle comes into play.

"Grey, you have to sniff this." She says, handing me a small open bottle.

"What is it?" I ask her.

"Its Rush, it will make you feel reaaaally good baby."

I take the bottle and inhale really hard. It feels like I have been fucking this girl with three stacks of condoms and right now they all evaporated. The blonde touches my chest and my legs and it feels amazing. I laugh like I just took a huge bong hit. Oh shit. I pull out and jizz all over the blondes stomach and just fall to the side, completely exhausted. My eyes half-closed, I'm blacking out. They lay next to me, stroking me and laughing.

"Don't you fucking dare fall asleep yet." The blonde says.

After a minute I feel normal again. "What the fuck was that? It was intense..." I say softly as I try to get myself back into it.

We laugh and play for a couple of hours more and then fall asleep .The next day, I wake up and experienced the best feeling in the world. I got up, ate some of their food and went on my way. I feel lucky that two beautiful women would want to sleep with a young skinny-looking guy like me.

Thank you, Amsterdam. You sure know how to make a guy feel welcome.

I walk around the city and wonder what I should do next. I get some food and decide to get high once more. I still haven't been to my hotel, I should probably check in there soon. Instead I wander into the van Gogh museum. The paintings are mostly utterly insane. I like them.

I go to a bar next and get wasted. Then I go get high. I decide to never buy hookers again, so that's out of the question. I walk around city, listening to people talk and sing. Whispers of illegal trade in the dark alleyways. Thugs lurking in the shadows, trying to find tourists high enough to rob. I love the night, it keeps me on alert. I'm fucking tripping hard now. I find a taxi and tell the guy to drive me to my hotel. He looks at me and motions me to get in.

We ride around for what feels like forever. He looks kind of pissed. We park outside my hotel. Its dark. I pay my bill and try leave. The guy looks at me like I shoved my dick into his childs mouth or something equally horrifying. He probably wants a tip. I throw him some money and walk out. A group of girls are headed for my hotel and I quickly join them. I get them to sing and dance all the way to their room. They are from Germany on a shopping trip of some sort. We are shushed by the employees though. We run to their room where we have fun for a while. Then I get kicked out and go to bed. The next morning I see a bunch of strangers sitting at a table in my room.

Fuck. This is a hostel. There are seven beds in the room. I look around me. People are greeting me. There is a couple sitting at the table. Touching each other in a way that makes my penis feel weird. I can see he is uneducated and most likely from the streets. She is kind of cute, horrible teeth though. Then there is a well-put together guy with a expensive watch and styled hair. I get up in my underwear and walk to the shower. They put their hands out to greet me; I don't have strength to do this now. I motion with my index finger 'one second'. I shower get dressed and walk outside. I go to a weed shop and get some smoke. I go get some beer as well. I have very little money left. I lost my phone. Probably left it at the girls' apartment. I get back and shake hands with the street guy first.

"Sorry about that, guys; I'm Grey."

"It's alright friend. I'm Alex. This is my girl Maggie."

I shake her hand and look over to the other dude sitting there.

"What up man, I'm Ruben."

I give each one of them a bottle of beer and start rolling up a huge joint.

Ruben gave me a smile and a look of approval. Alex got very excited. " Haha! I fucking like you man! "

Maggie just said no thanks. She doesn't drink.

"I'll take yours baby." Said Alex.

It's very hard to understand what Alex says. We start talking about ourselves. Alex and Maggie are from Greece. Ruben is from Belgium. The couple is here simply for travel since things are very bad back home. Ruben is also fleeing misery and wants to move here for good after he finds a job.

"What do you do, Maggie?" I ask her. Her English was better than the rest.

"I study engineering. It is really exciting and I also like languages." She says seriously.

"Sounds like heavy stuff, you don't drink to take the edge off?" I ask her.

She laughs nervously and says "No, never."

I ask Alex what he does for a living.

"I go to school in the streets. The school of life, brother." I nod.

Fucking knew it.

"Also I problem with heroin for many years. This is why Maggie doesn't do drugs." He continues.

"How long have you been clean?" I ask him.

"11 years." He answers.

Ruben gets into the conversation and asks who I'm here with.

I look at him. " I'm alone, why?"

He shifts and says "Haha, no reason man. You just look so young, but it's cool that you are able to do this."

We laugh and drink a little more. Ruben talks about a girl he loves. Alex about the police being complete assholes in his own country. Maggie tries to explain to us how she is able to find education fun. I don't say much about myself. Don't feel there is much to say. After a long talk I decide to go outside. They wave goodbye and I leave. I sit outside the train station and smoke a cigarette. An older woman with black hair and a sexual strut comes towards me. She looks at me. I get up and walk towards her.

"You look a little lost, where are you going cute stuff?"

"Shut up , idiot." She walks away. Russian accent.

I follow. "Hey! That's no way to act, I'm just kidding, krasavitsja."

She stops to light a cigarette. We talk for a while. She is going home to her husband.

" I mad at him, that swine. I stay out drinking aaall night!"

"Yes , let's show him."

I lean in and kiss her. She reeks of cigarettes and booze, mixed with a delightful perfume. Her lips are silky smooth and her skin is very tight. She is younger than I thought.

I grab her hand and we walk to my hotel.

"My entire family moved to this city, for what? I don't know."

"From my personal experience, this place can be pretty great."

We get inside my hotel and walk into my room. The lights are off and people are sleeping.

"Be very quiet. Let's go."

We sneak into my bed and kiss. We get undressed and have sex, quietly and slowly. I hope the others aren't sleeping.

"Cum inside me." she says.

What the fuck? This woman is crazy. I cum inside her anyway, she sucks my dick dry and leaves. I can hear Ruben and Alex laughing.

"She stole your sperm man." Says Alex, laughing louder.

"Are you guys fucking awake? Go to sleep! Damn..."

The laughter dies down and I just lay here, sweating. Fuck this. Let's see what tomorrow brings.

The next day I'm on my way back home. It's sad, but also kind of a relief. It has been fun, but exhausting. The flight was smooth, and now I'm on the bus. Going home.

I get off the bus at some random far away bus stop and grab a smoke. I wait for the next bus for about fifteen minutes. I smell like weed and beer. My appearance is mildly catastrophic. Like I've been raised, dressed and sexually abused by hobo's my entire life up to this point. An old couple comes walking by. Its dark outside and it has just stopped raining. The road gives off this ever-present smell of exhaust and dust. I love that smell. Especially without the exhaust. A fiery redhead comes walking by as well. She stands directly in front of me. So close that I can smell her. She has that tight body. I tap her on the shoulder.

She turns around. "Hi." She wonders what I want to ask her.

"Hey, I'm bored waiting for my bus. Want to talk?"

She laughs and looks a little confused towards me. We talk for a while and she is actually weird as hell. I like it though. Her eyes are green and she has a wide pretty smile. Her eyes would match her personality more had they been purple. My bus arrives and I quickly get her number.

"I'm having a birthday party next week. You should come!" She says, smiling. Never before this day has a simple smile given me an erection. I'm actually hard right now. I laugh semi-nervously and hug her a second longer than I need. On the bus my mood elevates. Gabriella is Italian. An Italian Satanist (without that gothic look) that actually made my heart pump so fast to supply my dick with blood that it seemed I skipped several beats. I get back home and my key won't work. I open up the garage which has no lock on it, and find all my stuff in there. I kick the wall of the garage so hard I hurt my foot. I decide to smoke a little outside and collect my thought. I think I have to move back to parents. Holy mother of fuck, this is going to be like a preview into my horrific afterlife.

Only this will most certainly be real.

PART II : DEBRIS FLYING FROM THE GROUND ON A SOFT RAINY DAY

Chapter 5: The Straitjacket on Fire

"We`ll make it happen, don`t worry!" says the transportation manager.

I have just translated some minor transport details from the trainer of the Belarusian squad. Everyone has been friendly to me; sadly I have come to realize I am not a person who can appreciate such things. I wander the ring with a cigarette in my hand, looking at the players and their trainers. It has been a quiet, yet long day so far. My mind is peaceful and cloudless.

I have no certain opinion or feeling towards anything whatsoever at this time.

Maybe this is apathy, not peace?

Some of the girls there came and asked to take a picture of me. It yielded no further excitement than a weak smirk from my part. Wait, this may not be peace, this might just be me being tired as a motherfucker. I walk around some more and keep translating until someone tells me I am no longer needed. I am about to walk out when I notice a poster. It said that there was to be a banquet tonight to celebrate the end of the world championship. After further investigation I was told that the volunteers were not invited to such an event this year. I think that is offensive and decide to go anyway. I have worked for free after all. Additionally, I am supposed to chaperone some teams to the airport tomorrow, so fuck it. When I get home my little-sister is excited to see me and wants me to play with her. Sometimes I get angry at her because I am busy or tired and don't feel like spending time with her. In turn this makes me feel like a fucking asshole, and I try my best to indulge her in activities that interest her. I love her. At the same time I can get frustrated because she is the only person in the world whom I have to react to no matter what. Other people , should they be a pain in my ass, can suck a dick for all I care. She, on the other hand, should feel good and I want to make her feel loved. This little kid, has made me evolve as a person in such a way, it is obscure. She`s clever and witty. I always encourage her to think for herself, which no one around her seems to care about. The results of this are hilariously charming. Seeing her outwit adults with cuteness and innocence as her shield makes me laugh and feel happy. Our mother does not appreciate it often enough. Rebellion is a virtue few parents teach. She is scary insightful as well. I sit down with her and try to teach her some math. Astounded by her willingness to learn from me, I feel special because she wants me and no one else to teach her. Once I tried to teach her how to do a head stand for her gymnastics class. I failed, but enjoyed her company never the less. She eventually goes to bed.

My step-father, riddled with pettiness always lurks around, trying to infect us all with his misery. I can`t help but wonder if that is some individual flaw, or a basic human characteristic.

I also don`t know which option bothers me more. The fact that he lacks the strength to push through his sickness, or the fact that I would be just like him in his position. Weary and poisonous. The next day I wake up, after some strange dream once more. I decide to try to lie to myself as soon as I wake up. I decide to lie and tell myself that I am a free human being, that I am not trapped by senseless moments that pass me by without any effect or value whatsoever.

I wanted to become present through meditation. Now I want to reverse this, seeing as I can gain no sanctuary in my mind. I don't want to be present; I want to bury my head in the sand.

I am forced for a short moment to touch the searing hot metal of life with my soul, without drugs or fantasies. Like everyone else I watch horror stories on the news, but instead of thinking, like I should, that this is real I instead make the events a sort of fantasy in my head, playing it off as a short interruption in my daily life and make a weird ritual of being shown things I would know nothing about without the ability to imagine them. Even with imagination I don`t know shit. What do I know of murder, famine and disease? What do I know about torture and misery? Then I go and eat a burger and take a shower for ten minutes.

Thank god that didn't last, that was awful.

As I`m thinking this I realize I am getting more and more distant. A crushing guilt comes over me. Why should I deserve living like this? Why don`t I deserve their lives?I am forced to have a good life and watch other people suffer, exposing to me the horrific truth of my own character; I would rather not risk what I have to help someone who has less. The only hope I have for further existence is to make it right. I still have time to adjust and become a better person and do something for those who need it. This thought awakens another adjacent feeling that only seems to whisper; why? It gently convinces me that I don`t have to, and that nobody else has to either. Those people I feel guilty for betraying would do the exact same in my position, and people around me obviously do not care. The worst battles are the silent ones, and I fear that even by having these thoughts I am already too corrupt to ever correct myself. Like the destructive forces of nature, my own nature cannot be fought with my spirit alone. Something is missing, but I`m not quite sure what. I jerk myself off and pass out.

I dream of caskets and death. I`m buried alive.

I startle myself awake. Surprised at the accuracy of this vision, it perfectly described my feeling. I just feel trapped and restless for more movement. There is no God, no entity that protects us. Consciousness is nothing more than a spark in the darkness. I get up and grab a bottle of vodka and start drinking. I drink until I pass out. It's been a while since I talked to Gabriella , about two weeks now. When I first got her number I didn't call for two weeks and didn't show up at her birthday party like I promised. Then we met and I had the most awkward sex of my life. It was all my fault of course.

I started singing "Slooow riiide ! Bam bam bam... Take it easyyyy.."

That was actually funny, but then I couldn't come and got embarrassed because she did something to me emotionally I have never experienced before. She made me have strong feelings for her as soon as I met her that evening. I fucked her, but in the middle I told her to leave and followed her to the bus stop. I needed to process what was going on. I sit in my parents' house as I think about this. Writing some job applications. Thinking back I was so obviously trying to sabotage myself. No wonder she ended it. I'm such a fucking pussy. Why couldn't I be happy with what I felt? Fuck. I take some painkillers and go to sleep. I'm going to help my parents build a cabin tomorrow. I startle myself awake. I overslept again, dreaming of hell and poison. Those are the only words I can conjure in association with the horror that was just played in my mind. Like a theater of misery. I get out of bed and walk downstairs. My parents sit in on the couch, half watching television and half arguing vaguely about something. This was their new form of communication, vague arguing and constant irritation like a rash in a delicate area. This dialogue was interrupted only by bursts of anger and frustration once in a while. I fear to understand what it must be like; being stuck with a person that seems to find everything you do or say to be idiotic and hopeless. I nod at them and go to take a quick shower. Once clean and dry I decide to check my phone for messages. "One new message" it says. I hope it`s from her even though I haven`t talked with her in weeks and we ended things badly. It was a small glimmer of hope, destined to be destroyed and yet still trying to shine through.

'Call me when you get this.

-L '

I put on my jacket and shoes and go outside to have a cigarette while I talk.

"Hello!" she says, smiling through her voice.

"I'm calling, like you asked." I answer, trying to smile.

It is a pathetic smile. The smile of a dying man who`s being entertained by a clown. I am seriously considering just killing myself. This is like watching the most boring, depressing movie in the world, when some mystery-show is on the next channel. I mean, one doesn't know what it is, but it can't be worse than this...This lady is my contact person for a little volunteer work I'm doing as an interpreter. I had been at the airport all day yesterday picking up referees and journalists and sending them to their hotels. I would rather work for free than to be stuck in the house with my parents.

"One of the referees got pissed because they didn't make it on time to the hotel. They couldn't find the pier." She says.

I sigh and explain that I couldn't go with them because there was another referee coming in later than them and I had to wait for him. She understands. She is on my side with this and called just to appease someone higher up. At least that is what she tells me.

I tell her I will swing by later with some papers and ended the call. She is quite an attractive woman for her age. She is a lot older than me, but with a sweet and flirtatious voice imbued with a certain youthful innocence. My mind instantly went down a path I had gone so many times that it was trampled down and worn out, it rarely gives me the pleasure I expect from it.

Like a lab mouse furiously pressing a button that yields no more stimuli, without understanding why. I go inside and make myself some tea. I wander into the office and notice two letters addressed to me. One is from the business school I have applied to. They`ve accepted and expect some initial payments soon. Which of course means I need to find a job quickly, I think.

I still have the jacket on. I try to take it off, but the zipper is stuck. I use the letter opener to force the zipper off. It breaks. The other letter is from some social office. I can`t receive any money from them, but it said they would try to help me find a job. I throw both letters in the trash and drink my tea before I go to the bank. I have to deliver something to the contact lady. Even though I know nothing will happen with her, I can feel a slight longing. I laugh inside my head. It`s going to be a long 5 months. I just moved here a couple of days ago and already the loneliness is seeping in. I have an anxious feeling about my mental state. It`s as if it had been fused with something strange a couple of months ago, and now it has cooled off and susceptible to cracks and breaks. The quest for the "feeling" has passed. Regular sleep and keeping busy with volunteer-work has changed my perspective and shoved me into the mental state I used to mockingly laugh at when I was a drug-infused maniac with recurring insomnia. Besides, I have seen the same effect in drug addicts. The way they run around looking for that one thing in the whole universe that can give them temporary relief, after which they start the cycle all over again, get up, and run. Not to mention that threesome made me realize there are other things in life. I will still welcome the feeling, but won't chase it. A strange memory fills with shame enters my mind, a memory of a time when my boundaries were non-existent.

I remember a man I one knew, knocking at my door at night. Yelling and kicking the walls. He pulled out a bag of coke and handed it to me. I partook and we went got in his car and drove away. He handed me a gun, which I grabbed after putting some gloves on. We rode in silence, snorting coke on the way to the suburbs. He parked the car next to a blue house and got out of the car.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Follow my lead." He said, grinning like a maniac.

He was a short, skinny guy with red hair. A regular resident at the insane asylum located near the edge of the city. He was fresh out a couple of months ago at the time, but I remember he still wrote down symbols on toilet paper anywhere he went and scribbled some nonsense about aliens.

He got out of the car and slashed the tires of the car next to us. Then he got up on the hood and pissed on the car. I got out and stood there watching guard. He had often helped me put of shit before, I kind of owed him a little. Not to mention I actually found the shit we did back then hilarious. He kicked the car hard and the alarm went off.

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP!

We ran and hid in the bushes after he grabbed a pipe out of his back pocket and smashed the car window with it.

"Who is this guy?" I said.

He was trying not to laugh, and got out some duct tape. At the time I just thought ' oh fuck, it's one of those night'.

Some fat guy comes out and swears out loud. "What the fuck!?"

He went over to the car and looked around him, tried to find the guilty party.

My friend Mark nudged me and I put my hood over me. I remember running out of the bushes at him and grabbing him by the throat, pushing him into his own car and just staring at him. He froze, and I put my gun right to his cheek. Mark came running out and taped his mouth and eyes. Giggling the entire time. We threw him in the trunk and drove to the cemetery. Once there we got him out of the trunk and got the fatty on his knees and removed the tape. Mark yelled at him for a while, punched him, slapped him around some and then we left him there and drove home. Apparently this guy had insulted Insane at some club once.

Damn. Doing that felt just as right to me as chasing that feeling at the bus stop. However, now I can see it was completely crazy. This makes me appreciate the effects of a healthy lifestyle.

I mean, I hope that it was the lifestyle that made me do those things, and not me. There is some permanent change though. I have gained some ability to perceive situations around me clearly through a sort of meditated state. It is as if everything around me moves and moves, yet I sit far away and can see everything clearly. Like if you watch an ant colony from above.

Detachment as if my physical form is a movie or video game character that has no real impact on "me" whoever that is. Another thing is that I have gained some sort of steel-grip around my emotional responses. At first it freaked me out because I no longer had to give into natural emotional responses like sadness. I can choose to not initiate the feeling. After a while it felt great that I could choose to be happy all the time. Then, however, I felt the emotional inferiority of those around me, who had no choice but to feel things at the appropriate moments. This confused me, but I could understand where they were coming from. They simply haven`t fixed themselves. What confuses me even further is that I at this point allow myself to feel some negative emotions even though they are not necessary for me to experience. What I found was that emotions make you feel good and bad, which is the way many people perceive their primary function. However by blocking out negative emotions I also locked out the information that they brought with them, which could be crucial to me and help me enjoy the human experience to the fullest. Maybe I'm just imagining all this. I mean it is hard to react to normal social interactions after hanging around with people like Mark. I sit with this for a while. I realize I'm still kind of insane and try to discard the thought. I get in the car and drive to the bank, where Linda works. I go inside and give her the documents, and urged her to write me something I can put in my résumé. When I get home I go sit in the office and read a book about a passionate architect. A book about standing your ground when the whole universe tells you to get out of the fucking way. I hear a knocking at the door.

"Hey, kid. Want to see something?" my stepfather slowly enters the room. He looks frail, like an old man. The cancer is really not letting him go. I nod and get up. He signs for me to follow him. We go upstairs, to the guest room. He opens the door and I see paintings. Three dark ones, mixed with colors like red, green and blue. There is also one that is much brighter than the rest.

"Thanks for the canvasses, it was a great present. I forgot how much I liked to paint." He says.

"No problem, man." I reply weakly while being somewhat hypnotized by the brighter painting.

Something about the color is familiar.

I recall the dream with the flashing colors. One of the colors was blue, the other white. Exactly like the colors in that painting. It looked like some sort of clear water. Like the ones near a tropical island where you can see the fish swimming underneath the surface.

I point at it.

"When did you paint, that one?" I ask him.

"A couple of days ago."

"It looks a lot brighter than the rest, don`t you think?"

"Yes, well... that`s because I just recently found the white paint." He jokes, laughing softly.

"Do you want to know what I`ve named that painting?" he asks me.

"Water?" I say dumbfounded.

"Hope."

We look at each other. I`m not really into these Oprah moments, but this one cuts me pretty deep.

"That`s great. It`s good." I say.

That's all I say. I might have been wrong about my step-father. The guy is lost, but he is trying his best. We go downstairs and watch some television while drinking tea. During commercials I sneak out to light a cigarette. I smoke half of it, then realize I don`t want to smoke anymore and throw it away and go back inside to watch some more television. After a while I stop watching television, and start reading the book I borrowed from the library. I sit by the fireplace and read for a couple of hours. My little sister comes in the room and wants me to play a game with her. I do and she laughs and keeps hugging me throughout the day. I marvel at how much she changes my mood. She loves me, and it makes me feel safe somehow. This little creature, much younger and smaller than me, makes me feel safe. I thought it should be the other way around. The days go by, and soon it`s Sunday. Tomorrow there is a banquet for the ice skaters that competed in the tournament where I was an interpreter. I get in the car and drive to the banquet. I arrive at the automatic door-entrance and walk inside. The lights are bright and I can hear people having a good time. Immediately I see three girls standing in a circle. I put my hands up as a gesture of a man people have been waiting for to arrive. They laugh and come down to greet me. I hug them both and hold my arm around them. I can`t focus on our conversation. It`s the same old thing, not that I am complaining or anything.

One of the girls seems incredibly shy and thoughtful and I try to meet her gaze as the other two are going on about the party. They hand her their jackets and I`m kind of bummed that they treat her this way. She walks away after taking a picture of me with the girls kissing my cheek on each side. I grab them and walk us out of there. We go to a closed up kiosk behind a van and talk. I stand there with each girl in my arm.

"You think you`re man enough to take us both on, huh?" one of them says.

I just laugh and smile. They start to reach under my clothes and telling me what they like that my veins are visible on my arms. I light up a cigarette and give both of them one. I start to wonder why we do this.

Why do any of us even bother trying to stay alive when it ends in death anyway?

I picture a boat in an endless sea. There are storms all around me and a bottomless ocean waiting for me to surrender to its power. Sure we build homes, create families and safety. The problem is that this is simply short-termed illusions meant to keep us fighting for survival a little longer than we might have otherwise. In hope of finding some big truth we`re all running around on personal quest to find some reason to live beyond mere survival. The true harsh reality and nature of this world are the earthquakes, tsunamis, hurricanes and other forces of nature that exist only for destruction. It's the wars and murderers and the inevitable death of our planet.

The cold wind bites my stomach as the girls have now unbuttoned my shirt and run their hands over my stomach. One of them is kind of cute, the other is average looking. However they are both ice skaters and have a beautiful figure. I return to my thoughts.

Why should I row the boat, when there is no land around me? Why not jump out and get it over with?. At this moment I slowly realize that I must be more fucked up than I thought.

Not many years ago I would give my left nut to get with even one of these girls. These days I just feel like a single waterfall of consciousness. It`s sad to think that life might not get better. It`s even sadder to think that life will never be this good for others.

I kiss them both. I try to get them home with me.

"Let's go to my house for a nightcap."

"We can't. Our coach would kill us if we left."

They are both ice skaters... Of course. We go back to the banquet where I meet the coaches and the rest of the skaters. They are all very nice people. They eventually leave for their hotel, and I waves goodbye to the whole group before getting my car and driving home. The months go by slowly. I work two jobs; at a hotel as a waiter and also at a café as a barista. Sometimes I sell some illegal substances or taxi drunken people home for extra income. I also work as a carpenter at my parent's cabin. Along with some polish workers I drag rocks and dig holes while the sun is burning our skin. One of the polish workers is a real character. His nickname is ' the Artist '. He is a middle-aged white man with long grey hair made into a ponytail.

Painting his whole life, he is waiting for that big break that will make him successful and meanwhile he lives with his mother and works here and there to support his passion. He is an interesting guy, if not a bit pretentious. I can sense real compassion within him, and it irritates me to no end for some reason. I get into trouble a couple of times. Some fights, nothing serious. Drove around drunk, hitting garbage cans and knocking them over. There was this one time I got into a fight with a fat ugly guy. He yelled something as he drove by me and I yelled back. I saw him stopping just ahead and getting out of his car. We met each other in the middle of the road and he knocked me down. It's tough to push a guy three times your size. I got up quickly and we circled each other for a while. I'm not backing down, he swears at me and gets in his car and drives off. Later he came back again and I got really mad and picked up a huge rock and threw it at his car. This got him mad as well and he got out and grabbed a drill out the trunk. I ran up to him and picked up the rock and there we stood. Taunting each other.

"Let's go down to the beach, where there are no people! I'm not going to jail for your fat ass." I told him.

He told me to put the rock down. I did. He put down his drill and we launched at each other. A couple of blows here and there and then he decided to run off again in his car. Never saw the creep again. There was also this one time, when a one legged man got enraged when I told him to keep his fucking balance and stop knocking things over. I didn't see his metal-leg at the time of course and thought he was just really drunk. In the end we became friends though.

Soon the time comes for me to go back to school. A friend of mine, Peter, is looking for two new roommates to his apartment downtown. I decide to move in with him along with another guy I barely know from high school. His name is Beaver. After living together for a while, we actually establish good chemistry, and I'm able to enjoy both of their company. I constantly borrow money and food from them, since I don't have a job. Each morning I wake up, I`m moving a little slower. I`m moving more deliberately, more decisive. I feel tied down to the ground, a pending doom over my head. Once again happiness has left my body, but this time it`s replaced with tranquility, sometimes apathy. I`ve spent over 4 thousand in hard cash out in bars and clubs the last three days. It`s way too much, and I don`t even have the energy to pursue women, but somehow I can`t seem to care. It`s just the same old bullshit, and I am completely unable to change. Sometimes it amazes me how brutally painful some lessons in life are and furthermore how simple they seem once they get through. I know this is my last chance to make something of myself. I just have to get serious about wanting to success, like my mother tells me.

Chapter 6: Spiders under the Leaf

I cannot seem to fall asleep. This is weird because I seem to have most things in order. I'm doing alright in business school. I have money, although it's not really my money. I decide to go to my parent's house, since I'm feeling sick. I go over there and eat some food my mother made for me. I walk around the house, play with my little sister and sleep for a while. I walk past my stepfather's room. He is out of the country for now. I'm not sure why because I don't really pay attention to what he is doing anymore. Not that we used to talk before he got sick either. I stand outside his room for a while and then I walk in. I remember he told me he had a shitload of painkillers just lying around. He didn't use them anymore. Guess he wants to try on the pain he feels without the meds. I truly do respect that. I open his drawer and find several boxes of pills. Opiates, morphinbased and really strong. I open the boxes and grab around twenty or thirty pills. The instructions say I should take one every six hours. I take three right away and walk around the house in a daze before I go to sleep. The dreams are incredibly vivid, yet I forget them as soon as I wake up. After a quick visit to a building site , and several cigarettes later I decide it's time to go back home. I grab some food and a couple of anti-depressants my mother seems to use more and more often, and go home. While I'm riding the bus, I down five of those painkillers and two small anti-depressants. Starting to feel woozy. A blonde girl I've known a long time sits down with me and I share with her some painkillers. She fucked my roommate once, Beaver, I remember the commotion as she was leaving his room and him begging for her to stay a while longer so they could fuck 'properly'. It was hilarious. I get a ride home from her friend once we get of the bus. Once I get there I find my roommates sitting in the living room. Wired as fuck and ready to hit up the clubs. I should not be drinking alcohol right now, but I join them anyway. We sit around shooting the shit for a while, then get up and leave the house for a fun night out. I feel drowsy. On the verge of passing out on the cold asphalt beneath me as I follow my friends to some bar that sells cheap booze. We get there quicker by singing at strangers. Most of them laugh, but there is an occasional sourpuss that wants nothing to do with our merry chants. We get to the bar. I sit there, semi-sleeping. We sit there for hours; the bar is closing in half an hour. A guy I know is sitting with a cute girl in his lap. He touches her up and down her thigh. She passes one glance at me and I go to grab a chair. All the seats are taken. I go to the far end of the bar and grab a chair from there instead. As I'm about to pick it up I throw my cigarette to the floor. Some guy sees this and starts yelling at me.

"HEY! You! Pick up that fucking cigarette! Have some fucking respect!"

I immediately decide this guy is a fucking asshole and needs to be taught some manners.

"Oh really? Why?"

"Pick it up!" He is gesturing aggressively towards the cigarette still burning smoke on the floor. His group is sitting there, looking at me. He starts yelling louder.

I look at him and say "No, I don't think so."

I wink mockingly at him. He stares firmly into my face so hard that I can feel it on my skin like a steel bar pressed firmly against me. I grab my chair and walk back to my friends and put a seat right next to the girl sitting on my friends lap. I stroke her on the shoulder and say I will be right back. I glance over at the guy and he is making a fuss over the smoke. I walk over and observe him. He gets up and picks it up, obviously planning on confronting me. I start walking towards him. A bouncer walks up to us.

"Take your fucking cigarette and get the fuck out! I'm a fucking regular here and do not accept this type of behavior.

The bouncer gets between us. "What's going on here?"

The guy starts explaining, barely holding it together.

"Listen dude, relax. I think you've had too much to drink...Wha- Yeah, he just started yelling something about a cigarette and him having more right to be her than me and my twelve friends over there. Is he really a regular? I mean if I'm in the wrong here I'll just take my party and go to some other bar."

"You fucking asshole! Shut the fuck up."

"Sir, calm down. Go back to your seat right now."

"Yeah, go back to your seat. Buddy." I wink at him.

He pushes the bouncer away to get to me. The bouncer grabs a hold and throws him out. I walk back and sit down next to the cute girl. We talk and hold hands while she sits on my friends lap. She goes to the bathroom.

"Dude, what the fuck? Stop cockblocking me!"

I agree to stop. I grab a girl with dark hair; she has a cute piercing and a tattoo of a phoenix on her shoulder. Her name is Mia. I drag her and her friend , an older gal, to the dance floor. Michael Jackson comes on. For some reason I immediately start yelling.

"I'm Michael Jackson! Wooo! Moonwalk! I'm might have been a pedophile!"

"What the hell! Stop it, that's awful!"

I pretend that someone is sucking me off. "That's right kids! Line up! Get the magic juice!"

Mia drops her drink. I step on the glass and try to break it by stepping on it.

"Mazel Tov!"

It slips under my shoe and slides away from me. I grab and kiss her. I grab her ass and look at her dead in the eyes.

"You fucking bitch" I say completely serious.

She walks away to talk to her friend. I try to kick the glass into a corner. I laugh loudly. I feel like breaking shit, or fucking some poor girl right in the mouth. Mia comes back and giggles. She grabs me this time and asks me if I want to go home with her.

"Do you have beer? Bacon?"

"Yes, sure."

I hang around a while longer. Then decide to go visit Peter who works not far from here. He has the night shift as a receptionist at some hotel. I walk up to Mia.

"I'm leaving, let's go."

"I have to get my friend home though."

"Bring her."

I find Beaver. We walk out of there, the girls following. We get to the hotel and I immediately go to the bathroom to take some more painkillers. When I get out I grab Mia and tackle her to the ground, we make out. Peter is saying that I have to behave myself. "Get up man! "

I get up and decide to blame Mia for the whole thing.

She laughs. We go outside and try to find a taxi for the blonde. I don't remember her name.

"You are hilarious! Haha!" She says. We get her in a cab and its Mia, Beaver, and me left.

I signal for him to leave. He goes back to the hotel. Mia and I go to her place.

"Can you promise you're a good lay?" She asks, surprisingly serious.

"Haha, no. I'm actually awful in bed, like a retard on acid."

We walk inside her apartment, crack some beers. I look at her from behind, her dress as tight as paint on her firm ass. She is wearing a thick necklace that slightly resembles a chain. Her living room is clean and neat, not really what I expected. She starts talking about her best friend that left her stranded in some other country for some man. Mia has not been lucky with friendships. At least her roommate is a nice girl, she says.

"Fuck people, you know?"

"Sure, most of them. Some are alright though; I find it crucial to give them at least a chance. I don't want to end up a bitter old man hating everything from default."

We go to her bedroom. She gets undressed and lies down. Her tits are alright, body tight-ish, but holy fuck... That ass.

I start eating her out. She starts moaning and shoving my face into her crotch. I'm rock hard.

"Put your necklace back on"

"Shut up and fuck me."

Too wasted to make her put it on, yet just enough wasted that I get pissed at her fucking disobeydiance. I climb on her and jam my dick as far into her as possible. She raises her thighs and clenches the sheets. " YES! Fuck me hard!"

"Shut up and get fucked, you bitch!"

I grab her and suck on her tits. Slowly going in and out, really deep. I grab her ass and grab it so tight, that I'm sure it must be borderline painful for her.

"I'm going to fuck you in the ass."

I flip her around and spit on her asshole. I grab some of her pussy-juice and smear it all around my dick with some added spit. She says nothing and waits. I slowly enter her. The heat alone makes me crazy. She screams in pain. I pull out and go back in her pussy. I pin her down and go as hard as I can. I last a couple of minutes and gradually everything goes dark.

I wake up after a couple of minutes. She is sleeping.

"Too many pills." I whisper to myself.

I mount her from behind again and start going slower, rubbing her clit.

She pushes her ass out, ready to receive. Making the most beautiful arch I have ever seen. I cum right on her back and smear it all over her like fucking lotion. She grabs my balls and rubs them for a while and then falls asleep. Not my greatest performance I must admit to myself. As a rule, when you pass out during the act, it's either not very good or the best anyone has ever had. I get up and spank her ass.

"Mmphmm" she moans.

I put my clothes on and steal her panties. I steal someone's underwear for the first time. Don't know why (why I stole them, not why I haven't done it before). I grab another beer from her fridge and walk home. Turns out I really was awful at sex this night. I cannot seem do shit. Can't think straight. It's hard even talking to people or look them in the eye. All I want is to curl up and die. I've long given up fighting this feeling, so I'm trying to just ride it out. Business school is my last fucking chance, I have to start getting serious or end up like one of those bums begging for scraps every day. I haven't been to school once this week and I'm way behind. I need to pass, but still haven't bought the books I need. I decide to get up and go to my parents for the weekend. I'll try my best to catch up with the class there for a couple of days. I've done about five percent of what I should have by now. I go to the bus stop and while there I cave; I buy cigarettes. It's borderline exhilarating inhaling for the first time in a while. Why do I hate myself? Probably cause I can't seem to do anything right. Some high school friends of mine are coming home for the weekend and invite me to go drinking with them. I decide to accept since I will be studying hard for three days and need one day of fun before going back to school on Monday. I really hope I'm going to pass this year, if this goes badly I will literally have to become a career criminal to earn money. Which actually isn't as bad as it sounds, though, I guess, morally questionable? Sometimes I have these moods where I don't give a fuck what happens to me or the world. It's like a trance where I see people moving around, the world spinning and all, but I can't give a fuck about anything. It's like watching TV; I have no real emotional attachment to anything. Women react to me differently when I'm in this mood.

Like witnessing a massive pile-up of wrecked vehicles on the high way. It's awful in a way, yet you can't look away. It's doubt. I doubt that I will be able to finish this education, and that is what's making me miserable. Why should I not doubt it? I've failed everything I've ever attempted. If I just work hard, however, I know I can do this. I know I can do this and stop being miserable. What's stopping me? I guess it's the fear of not becoming happy. I don't know if I can stand finding out , once again, that I couldn't find the root of my misery. Because if it isn't the fact that I'm a failure, what is it? What if I ace all the exams? What if I got a great education, a great job and so on..?Would I really be happy then? I doubt it. However I think it might be better to have all those thing and be miserable, than having nothing and still being miserable.

In conclusion I need to live with this misery, possibly for the rest of my life, but that shouldn't stop me from being successful. This thought process alone lifts my spirits. I just don't have a choice. It's a win-win situation, and all I need to do is graduate. A girl on the bus walks past my seat and smiles at me nervously. I smile back. A genuine smile. It's the little things. I get to my parents, eat some food and get to work. This sucks, but it sure could be a LOT worse.

I like to sleep, I find it comforting. Tonight however I am haunted by dark thoughts from my past. I take a lot of pills and try to go to sleep. Instead I dream/hallucinate with my eyes wide open. Its like I'm dozing off once in a while, and each time I become conscious I drag some knowledge with me from my dreams. I can't quite remember what it is, but I feel much better. Fear is no longer affecting me. I wake up the next day and do some homework. I feel relief when I understand the subject and confidently solve the problems laid out before me. After a few hours of work I decide to go drink with some old friends. The group ends up disbanding as the night progresses and the only ones left are me and an old friend named Randy. He's a fun guy, its a shame I don't see him around as much though now that he is in the army.I fuck the girl hosting the party and head to my parents where I rest before going back home.My mother urges me to do well in school this time once more before I leave. My bus card is no longer valid. I learn this because I get kicked off the bus and have to walk home. I pop some more pills and start walking. It's raining. I meet a girl on the way home and we decide to meet up another day.Soon, the day comes and eventually we get into bed. She doesn't want to do this, I can sense something is wrong.

"What?" I ask her.

"I can't do this. I kind of have a boyfriend."

"Kind of?"

She tells me he cheated on her, but she took him back. This was two weeks before she moved into the city.

"You don't have to do anything. Listen, you're gorgeous. Talking with you has been fun, you're smart and charming and don't have to take shit from this guy like that. I know it can be hard, just remember that, ok? I know you're thinking about ending it since you here with me, but until then just go to sleep. I don't need to fuck you."

I say this hoping she will find it charming and fuck me anyway, like the Swedish chick. She does find it charming but still doesn't want to have sex. I roll over and go to sleep.

Chapter 7 : The Loving Punch From God

"You're a fucking loser! Never done anything good in your entire life. Why do you have to torment the people around you, infecting them with your misery? Look at yourself. You are weak. You should kill yourself."

I wake up drenched in sweat. My entire body hurts. I get up slowly and walk to the bathroom. I catch my reflection. My face is swollen, five stitches below my left eyebrow. Blood is coming out of my right temple. I got beat up real good. I flex my face, it stings.

I walk back to my bed and lay down. I sit in complete darkness. I think about being unique. I think about the unique pain I have to endure and that people have no fucking idea what it's like to walk in my shoes. Curse them all to hell. No one else is feeling this pain I am feeling and it is so unnatural... I can't stand it! A moment of reflection is had. I suddenly get a weird thought into my head. I am disgusted by it.

What if I am not unique at all? What if I am nothing special? What about the girl who told me her parents beat hear? What about the guy who lost his wife? What about my step-father who has a terminal disease? What about that man who killed his own son by accident? What about my neighbor who sometimes has nightmares so awful that he screams in the middle of the night? Dear god... I am not special at all.

I see the light, it dawns on me that I am far from the only one tormented. It is more horrible than all the darkness in the world. I get up, turn the light on, and sit back down on my bed.

PART III : THE SHADOW THAT STOPS OBEYING

Chapter 8 : Calculations

Sometimes it feels like no matter what I do, a shadow is following me. The shadow is looking at me every second I'm alive. It's playing the field, while I watch from the sidelines. People always seem to be impressed by success, by the prestige of one's work or by how money one makes. It has always sickened me. I judge people by their character, their values. I thought I knew the meaning of self-loathing, but sitting here in my clean room, with my expensive clothing and stylish hair, I sense that I was quite wrong. With numb, dead eyes I quickly gaze over the results of my exams. Passed. I get up and clean the apartment. I exercise. I call a girl and invite her over. I have sex with her and throw her out before more than ten words are spoken between us. It was the girl with the boyfriend. She broke up with him. Now she wants us to be together though. I know of course that is not going to happen. I get a phone call from an old acquaintance.

"Grey, I need you to come over. I'm desperate and need your help."

I sigh, grab my scissors and leave. I've never been to his house before. It's dirty, disorganized. It's of another age, somehow. I'm nervous as all hell. Why does he call me, why now? An ex-military psychopath sits next to him. Not saying a single word. The man who called me sits calmly, smoking. He looks different. His hair black and slicked. The clothes look old and worn. He starts talking, calmly and articulate. Always been a good talker this one.

"I didn't do it, Grey. I didn't do what she claims. I watched over those kids, were like a father to them. I mean, how can someone be attracted to children? Children and animals are holy! You understand?"

Holy fuck. I'm sitting next to a man who might be a pedophile. Worse yet, I cannot fail to support him. He explains that his sister is accusing him of having sex with her children or something. He just looks like the guy to do it though. He looks the type.

"What are you going to do, then?" I ask.

"I'm going to kill that bitch." He says. He is waving a gun around, and finally rests it at his own temple.

I can't let him kill his own sister.

"Listen. What's important is that you know, that the children know, it didn't happen. I've had family members drive me to the point of bloodlust as well, but let me tell you something; you can't do that to your sister. Anger is just another word for self-deception, it feels good, but it will take away your life. Like heroin."

I look at him and continue.

"You have to let this go. Fuck her. It's not worth it."

He buries his face into his hands. "How come you are the smart one now?" He laughs nervously.

"It might have something to do with the fact that you've been drinking for the last four days. Clean yourself up, and don't you ever talk to me about what we just discussed."

I get up and leave. Great month so far. I got beat up by some drunks, several rejection letters from jobs I've applied to, unpaid bills, and I'm supposed to go to the police station in a couple of days. They want to talk to me about something important. Not to mention this crazy guy has been calling me, still trying to recruit me into his piece of shit gang. My parents have all but given up hope that I will make it as a human being. Believe me, I'm trying. I'm doing better, it's just that shit from the past keeps coming up and messing me up. Where the hell is this going? After another phone call from the police station, I just snap. It turns out I'm being accused of something that is too delicate of a matter to be mentioned over the phone. My entire future will be decided this year. I'm not worried because whatever happens, it all amounts to death in the end. I'm chasing to be happy no matter what. Let destiny play it out. No regret, no worries. Good intentions. That's really all I can control. Next week I find myself in the police station. A female officer is sitting on the other end of the table of the very small room. It is well lit and official-like. She is smiling, yet anxious about something. She serves me coffee, we make small talk.

"So, why am I here?" I ask her.

"Well, like I said on the phone this is a serious matter. You..."

"Yes?"

"You've been accused of ..."

A small pause, barely noticeable, if it was not for the next word out of her mouth.

"Rape."

My first reaction is disbelief, my heart starts pounding, thoughts are spinning.

Who is trying to ruin my life? What the fuck is going on?

"Rape?! Who the fuck is accusing me of this? If it wasn't so serious, it would be hilarious! I'm not some rapist, explain it to me!"

"Relax; I'm not saying you did it. In fact anybody can walk in here and report anything they want to us. Usually we raid the home of the accused, but we didn't do it this time. There is a reason for that. Personally I don't believe you did it. It just doesn't add up. Some women, when scorn, try to accuse men of rape. They want revenge for something you might have done. Do you remember Laura? You met her at a party in the summer."

I vaguely recall the girl she is talking about. I remember that party too, she was hosting it. She followed me around, ruining my chances with a red-head I was trying to bed. The entire party she talked to me and offered me drinks and cigarettes. Interrupted me while I was kissing with the redhead twice that night. I was worn down and it was late, and since my chances with the girl I really wanted to be with had been destroyed, I slept with Laura. She tried to contact me the next day, but I was ashamed of having had sex with her, and ignored her. Months later, she accuses me of this. What a fucking bitch. She is playing with my life, and now I have to images running through my head. Both are of the future.

In the first I'm working a white collar job, a productive member of society. Suit and tie.

In the second I'm a criminal. A common low-life thug with tattoos that intimidate.

I've decided to be happy in both. All I need now is to see where destiny will push me. I explain everything to her, everything I recall.

"Well, from what I've heard I'm inclined to believe you. Don't worry, she has to prove you did it. You don't have to prove you didn't do it. We need to discredit her, show everybody she is lying. If she is, of course. I'll start working on that right away; call me if you need anything. Call me if you recall something."

I leave the police station and light a cigarette. Not long ago I assumed a man was a pedophile simply because he was accused of it. The irony of this situation is kind of hilarious. My mother drives up in her car and I get in.

"What was it about?" She asks.

It's less funny now.

Chapter 9: Stubbed Toe

The next week I hear nothing from the police about the case. I send them evidence that this girl tried to contact me the very next day, but that I ignored her. A friend of mine told me over the cell phone that I should not have talked to the police. He said that nothing I said could help me, only work against me. He might be right, but at the time I didn't think about it. I knew I did nothing wrong, and maybe I put too much faith in the justice system. None of this bummed me out. I have re-learned the same lesson so many times now; that I believe it is starting to stick.

First of all, existence is overrated. I don't mind being dead. Second of all, we are all just actors and liars in this life; we are hiding our true thoughts. I look at people differently now. I look at life differently now. No fear is in my heart, because I have lived too long. I accept my fate completely. Acceptance of the unchangeable brings courage and peace of mind.

It has taken me years, but I finally accept the world for what is. A sick, dying place. Unchangeable by the masses who; strive for happiness, yet do not accept the horror of the world. Love the beauty; accept the unchangeable horrors. At least that is what I'm trying to tell myself. It's hard to believe it, since the world is such a piece of shit place.

PART IV: THE GRINDING TEETH OF THE HUNGRY

Chapter 9: The Magic Trick

It is back. I have retrieved the feeling. It was all so simple.

In a dream last night I was a powerful entity, unrestricted by physical laws. I met two old friends.

Even though I had no physical form, I could swear I was smiling at them. They were smiling back, the one with the cigarette even laughed a little. It was as if a well-intentioned lesson had been learned, as if an elaborate illusion had been lifted and behind the curtain were the words

"Fuck! You figured it out, congratulations. Pretty funny, huh? "

The figures vanished into thin air right , every figure which walked this dream plane vanished and were put together into one invisible force.

When it was time to wake up , a decision was made to make a healthy breakfast and enjoy it.

Homework assignments were done quietly, without effort or stress. People on the street were once again wearing masks. I no longer know what to call myself. "I" just doesn't fit anymore.

However it might be best to go with the customs and not stand out by referring to this body in third person. They are all playing a game, I think as I look around me at the poor people that wander the halls at this university. A weak smile is barely visible on my face as I gaze upon these kids. They are yet to understand, and some of them might never understand. It amuses me how fearlessly I live my life now. Nothing can make me perish, I am invincible and this body is simply a vessel for my soul. Yet it also makes me sad, how some people choose to live their life. It makes me even sadder that some people do not realize what hides behind the mask they so desperately hold on to. I will however in no way judge these people for I know that they will appear once they are ready, like me. For now I shall indulge these games and laugh and smile alongside my brothers. A part of me realizes I am human now, but that I am also something much greater. The human feels hunger, sickness and pain. This one also feels happiness, satisfaction and health. I feel it all, yet it does not directly affect me. I just observe now, free of judgment. This feeling comes in flashes, short-term intervals that come dancing into my life and then slowly but surely evaporate from sight. It comes more and more often and the mind triggers its activeness from a deeper point of the sub consciousness. Some days I still experience anger, frustration or even hate. I hope that with age and discipline I can become free of these emotions. I understand now how hard it is to let go of fear. How hard it is to let go of that quiet voice in the dark that whispers promises of a better future, that voice that seduces you into listening to it; and once you do it consumes you.

Once you realize that fear is a lie, it's also a matter of remembering it. To weed it out by the root instantly. Without fear you can advance into letting go of expectations. Accept your life as an observer, and stand still like a fucking oak tree.

This is the most awesome, butt-clenchingly exciting view I've ever had. At first it was even scary, the way you perceive the world differently. It is with less empathy and with more empathy at the same time. You empathize with people suffering, but you do not really pity them the way you used to. For you know now, they are not victims; they themselves are responsible for their pain. So fuck it. I'm sorry you can't be as awesome as me, but I found happiness and peace through self-destruction and misery. There is no fucking way in hell that there isn't an easier way to find your soul these days, so spare me your sob-stories.

Pride promises greatness, but delivers only misery and doubt. It's a four-armed beast. Holding up a pretty painting right in front of you, while it's unscrewing your eyes from behind.

I read some Russian literature before falling asleep. My thoughts drift towards this one girl I met at the bar the other night.

We got some pot from a couple of friends of mine and left early because we wanted to be alone. We laughed and rolled around on the sidewalk, making out and talking about our favorite cartoons. We rang people's doorbells in the middle of the night and ran away. We ran around a playground, swinging and jumping all around. We looked at the stars and laughed and kissed.

The next morning things were awkward, but all things considered it was a great experience.

The next morning I have grown weary of accepting things for what they are all the time. I'm thinking I can go even higher than that, start up some real shit. Its simple, the way I see it is that all this matter in the universe is bound by one thing. I believe this thing is a part of everything; therefore I am part of it. Which means , by the fact that I am even thinking this, this thing is on some level thinking it as well. I assume that me, the human, is a vessel for a small spark of consciousness from the universe itself. I, the universe am beginning to become aware of myself. Which honestly is a fucked up thing because first of all; why do I not know I exist completely? And second of all; what do I do once I get there? Either way I'm trying to feel a deeper love for myself and everything around me. I can feel the grass beneath me as I'm walking on it, and I thread as lightly as possible. Simple things like cleaning up, makes me relaxed. I do every small action with purpose and bliss. Don't get me starting on eating or drinking water that is like my favorite thing to do now. Enjoying these things has enriched my own life, but I also try to enriching the lives of others, since they are basically a part of me. However this is not always easy, people are taking advantage as much as they can.

The sad part is, I'm not even mad because I understand that taking does not give as much happiness as giving. I struggle showing this to the people around me , who are blinded by their greed and own desperate search for happiness and peace. Why won't anyone understand that one needs to look inside, not outward, to find it? It makes me want to give up and join them, my will is really put to the test. I have faith that even though I don't always understand it, I can feel that I am right. I exist, and I am RIGHT!

Chapter 10: Exhaust Filling The Garage

Weeks have gone by. I no longer feel the way I did before. I think I might have been wrong.

I don't need confirmation that I am alive, or that I even exist. I still have that genuine feeling of peace, but I have decided not build on it the way I did before. Actually peace is the wrong word for this, its more like apathy except it isn't so bad. I am open now. I do what feels right, without controlling myself. I have these weird dreams, even when I am awake. Images that flash before my mind as if I am watching them on television. They make no sense whatsoever.

I sit on the couch, doing nothing. I have nothing to do. There is something inside me that doesn't want to do this, to feel everything good and bad flowing through me without discriminating. It is painful, but it is being done either way. Yes, I see now that there is no real point in chasing enlightenment or whatever it is I'm going for here. I will gain nothing from it; it has become a new form of greed for me. I don't smile as much as I used to, but somehow it doesn't bother me. I instinctually give people what they want. If I'm making food I make sure to offer as much as people want. It's not because I love them, it's not because I am generous.

It's because I know that I cannot physically give away anything of value, even if I had it. It makes me feel bad; knowing how horrible and exhausted it made me feel when I tried to accept and love everybody. I am unable to love not only my enemies, but also people I don't even know.

I don't think I have become aware of myself at all these last years. Now I feel I was just tossed around like a puppet, chasing illusions and promises. The girl accusing me of rape does not concern me, school does not concern me, and nothing concerns me. I love my family and friends, but I can't control anything else. I thought I was right, but maybe I'm not. I'm just not as sure as I used to be, but somehow I am just as centered. I'm not entirely "me" anymore. My roommate Beaver gets home and I make us some food. After which we go play basketball for a while. It is really dark, but we both manage to make some decent shots. Then we decide to go back home and watch some television. Beaver has begun acting strange lately. He is unable to calm down, or be genuine in any way. Also for some reason he wants to spend more time with I, asking me back out into the living room when I retreat to read in my room. I always accept, and try to have a good time with him. Sometimes I think he is immature, other times he can be funny. Either way he has trouble expressing himself clearly, and even though I know exactly what he wants to say; I pretend that I don't so that he might find out himself. In other news I have not gotten laid in quite a while, and honestly I don't miss it. I really am a different person now. I get up and go to my room to think. There was a time I found my little sister annoying, my stepfather insufferable, and my mother smothering. Now I just love them all by default. I couldn't handle loving everyone I met; it became hard to show compassion. I started to resent people. At least I can love my family and myself for now. I have no idea what I'm doing, but I trust it is the right thing. Jesus said to turn the other cheek, and to love everyone. I guess that's why he was son of God, and I'm simply a mortal. I am tense as I lay here in my bed, unable to go to sleep. Images flash before me again, some weird and some beautiful. I think of a stupid old anecdote from a television show and it makes me laugh. The kind of laugh that just happens naturally, a really good one. I fall asleep after that.

In my dreams I see myself out in space. I don't understand what I am doing here, but trust everything is as it should be. Suddenly Earth comes spinning in my direction. It is giant, unmovable. It runs me over and in the next instant I am surrounded by people. It feels really weird, and I can barely sense the plot of what is going on, but I still somehow am convinced everything will work itself out. Even if doesn't, it will.

Next morning I open my eyes.

Chapter 11: Speed of Light Decelerated

I wake up after a few days. I remember some part of a really elaborate dream.

The evasive entity of freedom and light is always chained to darkness. Such is the nature of our world and any reality which abstains from either side is a broken bond. It is unreal and thus creates the soulless wraiths and savage animals we read about in fairy tales. A man dressed like a Jedi from Star Wars is talking to me. Dreams are getting weird.

I pack my bags and say goodbye to Beaver. I'm going home now to help build a cabin, once again. I arrive with tranquility more permanent than ever before. Something strange happened. My mother, who would often get on my nerves about school, once again starts to go on and on about how I do everything wrong. I simply look at her and see the pain inside. She asks why I'm acting so different. That's weird, it's like I see right through her and know exactly how to help. Still I don't rush getting there.

"I have nothing to say" I explained.

In the kitchen we caught up once again and she was sorry for the way she talked to me. She told me it has always been out of guilt for not being there for me when I was a child. She says she still fears I will amount to nothing. I smile and hug her. We discuss her everyday life, the way she feels and I listen closely. After our talk it seems she is relieved, and lighter.

My stepfather comes barging in the living room. "Finally come back to help us with the cabin, huh?" Instead of feeling irritation, I can sense so clearly that there is absolutely no reason for it. I sit down and smile. "Yes, of course. Would you like some tea?"

We all sit and drink tea and have a pleasant discussion , where my ideas are not only recognized, but also appreciated. Who knew that these are two completely different people once you understand that they are human beings just like me? That they don't have everything figured out. That they have their own special life story and that we are all the same?

My little sister comes dancing in and throws her hat at me and farts a little my way. How humorous, haha! My parents are upset. "That no way for a lady to behave!" They say.

I take her into the kitchen and make her some food. I make a simple sandwich and eat with her while I listen to her talk about the weirdest things. I nod along and smile at her, and try to make her understand how much I love her and our parents. I go back to the living room, where once again they are starting to argue and bicker. I sit down and ask them what is new with a smile, and a cup of tea in my hands. We talk, and there is nowhere I would rather be.

Soon everyone is in bed, and I am the only one still awake. I feed the cat and eat an orange.

I sit in the darkness and just think. At first I think about nothing, but then I start feeling something. I feel fear once more. Fear and bitterness, and hurt. I think about the girl who accused me of raping her, and I don't understand it. I am hurt by her, at the way she is trying to destroy my life. I am bitter for something this injustice to happen to me, it truly is unfair. I fear somehow I will be wrongly convicted. I fear my parents having to witness their son going to jail for rape, even if he didn't commit it. I fear for my entire future crumbling to the ground before me. I fear all my friends whispering about whether I did it or not.

'I am innocent. How could I have anything to fear?' I think.

Then something clicks inside my brain. Wait a second. I just tried to remove the fear by comforting myself. What if I instead run towards it? What if I don't retreat? I draw out a bizarre worst case scenario of the situation and let the fear eat my heart raw. I add other fears into the mix. Torture, misery, failure. I can feel them clearly, and it hurts. It cuts right through me. Even though I am inside, and also in complete darkness, it feels like dark clouds are gathering around me and that they are making everything even darker. I sit with this feeling for a while.

'So what?' I think. Let it all come, I will pour tea for my fears and have a conversation with them.

Yes, the worst case scenario could play out in my life, and it would be horrible. Does that mean I choose not to live? Does that mean I choose to focus all my energy towards this, and turn my back on the beauty of this world? The universe is vast and endless, and I will refuse to take part in it because it intimidates me? No way. It feels as lightening just now struck me in the heart and left a scar. A scar that will now be there forever, constantly hurting. Yet, somehow I would rather have it there; hurting me all the time and mastering it, than letting it stop me from living.

I might no longer be fearless, as fear is a part of me now. It hurts, but I am no longer affected by fear in any negative aspects. I sense it there, but it does no longer paralyze my actions in any way. I accept it now, and have no desire for it to go away. In fact, life is so beautiful that I would carry this burden times a thousand to be able to see the perfection that is our world. I guess ignoring your fears is the easy way out, accepting them sure is more difficult. I'm not saying it would not be nice to be completely fearless, I'm saying that I am not fearless right now. It is better to accept it than to lie. Although, I must admit, it makes it just a little more difficult to smile. In the end, it doesn't really matter. As long as I enrich the lives of those around me, none of this would have been for nothing. A couple of minutes later I finally do smile, and I walk outside to smoke a cigarette. This is not wisdom, but something easier. What I see now has been so close to me, right under my nose all along, that it takes a fool not to see it. I no longer exist. In fact I have never existed, and never will exist. I am a simple servant of the universe now.

It's hard to decide in which direction my sanity is headed for sometimes.

The Final Chapter: The Warm Wind, the Dimmed Sun, and the Rising Mist

The next day my stepfather and I work on the cabin again. I can feel his rage and aggression right next to me. The way he tosses things away from him when he is finished using them. The way his pride pushes him to try to show people the right way of building cabins. Not from a source of compassion, not to pass on knowledge; but to prove others wrong. To show himself as an experienced carpenter. I can sense he has no regard for me whatsoever and he is waiting to ambush me with the most trivial of questions.

"You see! Ha-ha you didn't know that, did you?" His fear, anger and insecurities rule over him.

And yet, I am not affected. In fact the way I view it, he is not talking to me at all. He is talking about himself without even realizing it. He and I are not even separate beings. I try my best to find a way to help him. I see flaws so clearly, it is almost like I am spying on him right in front of him. I treat him with kindness and love throughout the day. Not as a technique to try to force him to be nice to me, more as a respectful hope that he might one day be kinder to himself. My pace is slowed down, it`s fluid. I do everything with the utmost precision, without making any errors whatsoever. It`s like I`m building a cabin, but I`m also dancing with the universe itself. No thoughts occupy my mind, but it`s not like I`m blocking them out or deny them passage. They just don`t come to me, because I already know everything there is to know right now in this very moment. My head is crystal clear, and I`m not myself anymore. I am gone, but my body knows what to do without me.

We finish the entire cabin; he has softened up now and tries to give me advice about life. The advice is horrible but it is now coming from a good place. The view from the cabin is breathtaking and I sit down to enjoy the view.

"Let's take five minutes to enjoy the view." I say.

"No! I'm in hurry! Let's go!" He yells and picks up some things that I was supposed to carry back to the car. He walks off in a hurry. I sit and enjoy the view. It's beautiful, the mountains are hit by the sunlight and the water reflects it all in a matter-of-fact way. It is so accurate in and of itself, it's magnificent.

I can hear my stepfather yelling behind me. He is yelling my name and he yells it louder for each time. I turn around and look at him.

"What?" I ask him.

"LET'S GO! I'm going without you! Hurry the fuck up!"

I turn back around and sit there for a few minutes longer, then get up and follow him. As I approach the car, he is throwing all the stuff in the car. Aggressively and without much focus.

"Well? Did you get a good look at the fucking view?" He spits out, almost shaking with rage.

I say nothing and walk up to him, looking him in the eye. "Why are you angry?" I ask.

Of course I know the answer, I just want him to know it too. "Because I'm in hurry and you don't give a shit about what I need! FUCK!"

I say nothing and we get in the car. He speeds off, burning the tires and barely making the turns out of there.

"Why are you in such a rush? We could have stayed for a couple of minutes and watched the view, without all this." I ask him.

"For fuck's sake! I'm in a rush! We need to get home NOW!"

"Alright, why?"

"Because! Because my friend is coming over and we are going to drink and relax! I have nothing prepared for dinner or anything and I need to prepare something! I need to fix something in the garage as well and you don't even care!"

"Alright, when is he coming?"

"Seven."

We will arrive home in thirty minutes and it's still a couple of hours until his friend arrives. I can sense his rage is declining, and even though I would normally yell back at him I feel no such desire now. I feel no desire; I'm not even helping him right now. I'm simply telling him what he knows he needs to hear. My answers somehow do not come from me, but from him through me.

"Alright, if you want I can help you prepare some food for your friend."

"No! Never mind, your mother has actually already made some chicken."

"Well, good. That means your friend will not go hungry. Then let me help you in the garage."

"No... Never mind it's actually not that much to do. It will take me five minutes tops."

He relaxes, and I know that if he wasn't so proud he would apologize. We drive in silence and when we get home my mother greets us and asks how things went. My stepfather smiles and says everything went great, and that we have finished the cabin. I understand now. This is who I was meant to be all along. Compassionate and kind. When I was little, one of my best friends picked a fight with me. He hit me several times and I did nothing. I don't remember if I cries or not, but I remember my answer when my mother asked me why I didn't fight back.

"But... He would feel pain if I hit him."

My mother would laugh and pat me on the head.

Once, I saw a couple of my other friends with two crabs. They would pit them against each other, and once they realized the crabs wouldn't fight they started torturing them. I grabbed the crabs and tossed them back into the sea. Then my friends would beat me up and I would walk home crying. Another time I went on a fishing trip. When I caught my first fish, I could feel the regret and pain caused by myself. I quickly threw it back after my stepfather unhooked it and was preparing to gut it. I was mocked, and bullied and perceived as helpless. It seemed the world was pushing me, and pushing me, and pushing me over and over again until I decided it was enough and pushed back with all my strength.

I look back at some of the things I have said. I look at back of the things I have done. No one perceived me as helpless after that. I could not be bullied any longer, because the world stopped pushing me now.

I realize now, the world has never been pushing me. It has been leaning on me for support, but I was too weak to hold it and had fallen time and time again. I didn't defend myself against a bully. I attacked a sick man out of anger. I am no longer blind to this. I will welcome the world to lean against me, and should I fall then I will get up and try again until the day I fall for good.
