Johnny woke up.
Hands, legs = numb.
The world sat glumly watching him, waiting for him to move to action.
He laid on the couch and moved his head to check the clock, but he couldn't see anything but darkness.
He had fallen asleep with a knife in his hands.
He was in a room underneath his house, camping out to avoid the world.
But it kept coming back to haunt him.
"God DAMN IT!!" Johnny screamed. The knife felt sticky in his hand, and he viciously slammed in into his leg. He screamed with pain and then fell back, cursed tears stinging his eyes.
"Shutup shutup!" He scolded himself. The pain insistently demanded it's existence. Blood was life wasting away. He lazily pulled the knife out of his torn flesh and dropped it weakly beside the couch.
"Goddamn the noises..." He slowly sat, and tried not to feel all the sensations throbbing back into his body, a dream faintly remembered.... the feel of Devi underneath him.
No, no, stop it. Vomit curled up in the edges of his stomach just thinking about it. Stop. Johnny took the knife and carefully sliced a thin line down his left arm. To distract himself. He gasped as the blood flowed out of his body. Hurting like a wuss. No, don't even give yourself that satisfaction. Don't let yourself whine about the pain. Shit. Transcend the body. Get out....
But it wasn't just a sex thing, it wasn't the bloody stinkmonkey act that he had imagined it to be. In the dream, at least, it had been something else. It had been Devi. It had been... getting close, giving into a person. Becoming another person.
He wouldn't let himself think about it. But something deep inside Johnny was really screaming at him to cry. And he really, really hated that.
Sitting alone in a room led to too much thinking. He had to get out.
He laid back and meditated. Buddhist monks fasting for nine days.
The wind in the temple softly filtering the room.
Trees, buildings, ash-people, all melting away into light.
Into energy.
Material is just a vessel to hold that force...
and then the wind?
Pure force, not tainted by....
too much thinking.
pseudo-intellectuals at a coffee house.
Still, it's no use complaining. People are stupid. Get over it.
But then, what am I left with?
Laying in the dark, I'm mere matter taking up room in the atmosphere.
Matter exists because of the air that holds it.
Someone was telling me, talking about a pencil and the air holding it's solidity and I didn't understand. Anyone who acts as if they understand is just delusional. Just give it up...
But what about the time passing me by so fast?
What about that idea?
What about living while I still can?
NOOOooooo... that's just the dreams getting to me. They're making me want to believe in something. Believe that something matters. The dreams are getting to my head, making me doubt what is real, what I believe.
I want to be so cold that nothing can touch me.
I want to finally escape this stupid thing called flesh,
called life,
called the world.
The knife gives me slow release, trying hard to not feel the pain that's necessary to my freedom. Soon it will all be gone.... and I will feel delicious nothingness..... it was the option always available, why didn't I pursue it earlier? I did, but as a tease. I didn't realize This was the answer. I didn't realize, all along, the emptiness I was searching for, could only be found in Death.
.
...
......
.........
.................
...........................
..............................................
"What are you doing back here?"
-Consciousness won't let me go- the clerk squints at me in disgust.
I am about to scream but I see God. GOD! I run over to him.
"God..... dammit!" I concentrate hard and under my will, God explodes into a million pieces. Then he slowly comes back to shape and now I see that I've finally got his attention.
"Johnny." His anger melts into.... a smile? "I'm glad you've finally come here."
Surprise - "you've been expecting me?"
"Of course. Let me down, peons." The creatures holding his bed obediently lower him to my level, he's significantly shorter actually. What it feels like to be taller than God! I laugh.
God takes my hand in a handshake and smiles proudly. "It's nice to see such a wonderful aspect of your own creation."
"What is this all about? I'm not a good person. I'm not going to heaven."
"You, Johnny, realize what it's all about. This is what you wanted, right? Look at them, sitting there, content. They don't give into desires or emotions. They feel nothing and everything. This is your goal. This is your heaven."
"Sure, but that doesn't mean I deserve it."
"What is this talk of deserving? Who deserves it? I decide who comes in. I make the people good or bad. If I give you a heaven, you belong here."
During the conversation, Johnny follows the gnome God into the gates and is lead to his very own special chair. He sits and looks at the god evenly. Some sort of solid peace seems to rest him.
Very slow.... a clear nothingness falls upon him. He is about to ask the god,
*What was it all for, anyway?*
But the feeling of peaceful laziness finally calms him. The whole history of the world is but a dream, a nightmare that is rushed away quickly after waking, because it isn't worth the trouble to pay attention to.
Johnny sits and finally stops thinking. For once, he simply exists.
Hands, legs = numb.
The world sat glumly watching him, waiting for him to move to action.
He laid on the couch and moved his head to check the clock, but he couldn't see anything but darkness.
He had fallen asleep with a knife in his hands.
He was in a room underneath his house, camping out to avoid the world.
But it kept coming back to haunt him.
"God DAMN IT!!" Johnny screamed. The knife felt sticky in his hand, and he viciously slammed in into his leg. He screamed with pain and then fell back, cursed tears stinging his eyes.
"Shutup shutup!" He scolded himself. The pain insistently demanded it's existence. Blood was life wasting away. He lazily pulled the knife out of his torn flesh and dropped it weakly beside the couch.
"Goddamn the noises..." He slowly sat, and tried not to feel all the sensations throbbing back into his body, a dream faintly remembered.... the feel of Devi underneath him.
No, no, stop it. Vomit curled up in the edges of his stomach just thinking about it. Stop. Johnny took the knife and carefully sliced a thin line down his left arm. To distract himself. He gasped as the blood flowed out of his body. Hurting like a wuss. No, don't even give yourself that satisfaction. Don't let yourself whine about the pain. Shit. Transcend the body. Get out....
But it wasn't just a sex thing, it wasn't the bloody stinkmonkey act that he had imagined it to be. In the dream, at least, it had been something else. It had been Devi. It had been... getting close, giving into a person. Becoming another person.
He wouldn't let himself think about it. But something deep inside Johnny was really screaming at him to cry. And he really, really hated that.
Sitting alone in a room led to too much thinking. He had to get out.
He laid back and meditated. Buddhist monks fasting for nine days.
The wind in the temple softly filtering the room.
Trees, buildings, ash-people, all melting away into light.
Into energy.
Material is just a vessel to hold that force...
and then the wind?
Pure force, not tainted by....
too much thinking.
pseudo-intellectuals at a coffee house.
Still, it's no use complaining. People are stupid. Get over it.
But then, what am I left with?
Laying in the dark, I'm mere matter taking up room in the atmosphere.
Matter exists because of the air that holds it.
Someone was telling me, talking about a pencil and the air holding it's solidity and I didn't understand. Anyone who acts as if they understand is just delusional. Just give it up...
But what about the time passing me by so fast?
What about that idea?
What about living while I still can?
NOOOooooo... that's just the dreams getting to me. They're making me want to believe in something. Believe that something matters. The dreams are getting to my head, making me doubt what is real, what I believe.
I want to be so cold that nothing can touch me.
I want to finally escape this stupid thing called flesh,
called life,
called the world.
The knife gives me slow release, trying hard to not feel the pain that's necessary to my freedom. Soon it will all be gone.... and I will feel delicious nothingness..... it was the option always available, why didn't I pursue it earlier? I did, but as a tease. I didn't realize This was the answer. I didn't realize, all along, the emptiness I was searching for, could only be found in Death.
.
...
......
.........
.................
...........................
..............................................
"What are you doing back here?"
-Consciousness won't let me go- the clerk squints at me in disgust.
I am about to scream but I see God. GOD! I run over to him.
"God..... dammit!" I concentrate hard and under my will, God explodes into a million pieces. Then he slowly comes back to shape and now I see that I've finally got his attention.
"Johnny." His anger melts into.... a smile? "I'm glad you've finally come here."
Surprise - "you've been expecting me?"
"Of course. Let me down, peons." The creatures holding his bed obediently lower him to my level, he's significantly shorter actually. What it feels like to be taller than God! I laugh.
God takes my hand in a handshake and smiles proudly. "It's nice to see such a wonderful aspect of your own creation."
"What is this all about? I'm not a good person. I'm not going to heaven."
"You, Johnny, realize what it's all about. This is what you wanted, right? Look at them, sitting there, content. They don't give into desires or emotions. They feel nothing and everything. This is your goal. This is your heaven."
"Sure, but that doesn't mean I deserve it."
"What is this talk of deserving? Who deserves it? I decide who comes in. I make the people good or bad. If I give you a heaven, you belong here."
During the conversation, Johnny follows the gnome God into the gates and is lead to his very own special chair. He sits and looks at the god evenly. Some sort of solid peace seems to rest him.
Very slow.... a clear nothingness falls upon him. He is about to ask the god,
*What was it all for, anyway?*
But the feeling of peaceful laziness finally calms him. The whole history of the world is but a dream, a nightmare that is rushed away quickly after waking, because it isn't worth the trouble to pay attention to.
Johnny sits and finally stops thinking. For once, he simply exists.
