.
The Good Old Ultra-Violence
Chapter 1: As Empty Within as the Abyss Above
It's interesting how the most absurd adventures of the real world only feel truthful when you register them. In this piece, I'm going to be your faithful narrator, and I will tell you some of my experiences after the court case regarding the unfortunate events caused by the Ludovico technique, under the Minister of Interior's guidance.
Grab your milk-plus glasses and get ready for a bit of the good old ultra-violence.
##
Three months after Mr. Frederick, the Minister of Interior, managed to emerge victorious in court, I stayed in London working in his office. In fact, I did not work – I would only make myself present every now and then. As he promised, he gave me a job with a large income, besides the health treatment already given to me thanks to his full financial support.
Since the ones I'd once call 'droogies' had turned into a bunch of 'soomkas', I've decided to abandon my once beloved Nasdat slangs. Those unique terms had lost their charm after being corrupted by my former clique's betrayal.
I had not only lost interest in my sophisticated vocabulary, but also on my exquisite practices. I would often find myself wandering through the cold streets of London, with a pitch-black sky over me, mirroring the emptiness of what's within. Making my own rephrasing of Nietzsche, the abyss had stared at me for so long, that it touched me. In simpler words, I would always seek the violent fun that used to feed me, but I no longer had inclination to do so. My impulses for pleasure and my inner cries for chaos had been diminished along the way.
That's because during the trials, I couldn't get myself into my beloved adventures – otherwise, I wouldn't be able to show up in court and fulfill my commitment with Mr. Fred. Until the final verdict, I had to remain far away from any activity the law condemns as illicit or illegal.
The only thing that, for sure, I can say that had never perished, was my admiration for Ludwig van. Oh, boy, if Beethoven's not a genius, I don't know what else he is. His songs would get me through the vague and dull routine of boring England. One may say that human's most important knowledge is that of mathematics and science – However, art is what we live for. It makes us alive, and turns living experience something less empty. And even a proud freak like me knows that.
There was a very specific day of that dull routine, one of the last few ones, in which I reached my breaking point. I was becoming soft, and I disliked it – yet, I was not able find a way out of it. All of my desires would be unconsciously dismissed, as if they had never been there. That day was so critic for your faithful narrator, that I didn't even leave home that night, to at least try to return to my rule breaker habits. Instead, I decided to stay inside.
Although that day was quite saddening, the funniest thing happened – I went to bed early, and woke up early in the following day. It still embarrasses me to no end to think of how ridiculous and weak I had become. My true self, the virile and ultra-violent me, had become flimsy ashes fluctuating in the frigid wind of the English lands.
About a week after such infamous episode, while I was sitting beside my work desk and taking care of my duties – which were, in fact, none – Mr. Fred surprisingly stepped into my office, wearing an all-grey suit with a purple necktie. His wrinkles are visible, and his hair is so white and sparse that it almost gets camouflaged. I made myself take my feet off the wooden table and sit in a more composed manner, straightening my navy blue suit.
"Alex." Fred said smiling, in his usual obnoxious fake care. "It's good to see you. It's funny how we work together, yet almost never get to see each other." He commented.
"Good morning, Mr. Fred." I answered in my usual rhythmic tone, staring my pair of strong-blue eyes directly onto his dark brown ones. "Indeed, sir." It is all that I said before he continued his speech.
"You see, Alex, I have been nominated as the English Ambassador to the Republic of Korea." He explained. I raised a surprised eyebrow, which made him continue. "I believe that has been done to calm things down around here. Even though the verdict deemed me innocent," and then he added "thanks to your help," before following his train of thought, "everything is still quite a stir."
"And what is that supposed to mean, sir?"
"I have to move to Korea, Alex." He said. "I would be pleased to have your company, that is, if you're willing to go. Otherwise, I'm still going to fulfill my promise and arrange you another job here in London." I could sense he was saying those words only for the sake of politeness; he expected me not to go. And in a way, I could understand from where such an idea would come from.
In that moment, your dear narrator stopped to ponder for a moment. What did I have to lose? Everything that once made me enjoy the city of London had perished. I didn't find not even one reason to justify not going. "I don't see why not, sir. I'd be pleased to join you," I said. "that is, if I'm welcomed, sir." I quickly added.
"Of course you are." Alex smiled briefly, in his usual fake mannerism, although he was clearly surprised that I had decided to go with him. "Well, we're taking off in two days. Be ready until then." He said. "I have an appointment now, if you excuse me, Alex. But we'll see each other again soon."
"I'm looking forward to our next encounter, sir. I'll be ready." With that said, we bowed to each other slightly and Mr. Fred left the room for whatever appointment he had. Realizing that it'd be pointless to stay in the office, I decided to go home and start packing already. After all, I had many belongings that I'd wish to take with me and plenty of free time until the day after tomorrow.
Korea… already sounds like an adventure, I thought while making my way back to my recently acquired apartment. I was genuinely excited to explore unknown lands. Perhaps I'll be able to reconnect my bond with the good old ultra-violence in there. Who knows.
End of Chapter One