A Wee Snafu
Part one
As I was lying down on the mother conjuring up ideas of incompleteness and shallowness, I could not help but examine the existential nature of my condition. More than it being a filter from which I look through it is as though I am the filter, there is no distinction between the me's. It is this anomaly of which I am the sufferer. My very life ideally should be at the forefront of my consciousness. But it is. Just not in the right intensity or even probably not for the right reasons. I sometimes wonder about the heights of my incapability to surrender or take charge or do both. Just indifference. Indifference is a noble virtue indeed, if one aspires to fantasies of being a life taker. That cunt - my wife. Most people are products of their insecurities, not her. She had her ego. Not fit to be a queen. But I lay unfortunate. Incapable of being the being that obstructs the flow of others. Unless, of course, when it pertains to myself. Then I shall scour the ends of the universe to find me misery and hope. I know now that the reason misery feels good is because it opens for me a voyeuristic future window of all heavens and perfection. Of bliss and completeness. People call this hope. This future window is a trap. An illusion. Does not exist. I have been misled by myself all this while again only and only in hope of just another future window. Because I see that illusion, like consciousness, is infinite. I rationalize and ramble but my attention whore mind filters my thoughts in such benevolent fashion that it almost seems noble. For a cause. But what cause is it that requires the necessity of pain and hate? The cause is the window of the future. The illusory all existent cause of my tall order, and brave, but futile attempts of my lower nature. The very fact that I describe the lower nature in a such a way is evidence enough of my fear of the realness of it and conscious ignorance of the truth that however one might put it - I am my lower nature. The flow of intellectuality makes a dry heart. Throbbing but pointless. A pointless heart distributes only blood. Except mine. For mine was treading out in all directions. It was different than the way it flowed every month of my life. Then my heart was beating. Now the ticking had stopped.
Loud drum noises surrounded her corpse as men with animal heads on danced around her chanting hymns, evoking the Goddess of ecstacy, pleading with her to connect them with the departing soul. They knelt down smearing the blood soiled mud to their animal head faces feeling the embrace of their mother. Women ran around the men blowing colour on each other with ram horns, sounds of howling and cheering meshed into a deafening blur. The slave people knew this day was coming for them. The Queens had been stabbing at one other for the past few months. During the daily parade of their beauty, their stained bodies would externalize what their relationship had come to. The Great mystery had come and gone and had left its marks on the mother and it’s children. Every child born here had known abouts its eventual becoming. And when it did become reality - children disowned their parents, everyone stayed glued onto their palms, drawing revealed geometrical shapes with their fingers on the ground. Tears and art became commonplace and the entire community a canvas. Vulnerability was the norm. The truly tortured souls sculpted themselves into their most painful memory for all to see. Though not everyone gave into their deepest calling. Many whiled away laughing and cracking jokes, making humor their defense against the carving that the Great Mystery brought.
“Boiled pus skins, I see open flesh everywhere”, said the ones who were proclaimed to be the ones that truly saw. Many were disgusted but the ones that truly saw went and embraced the ones they saw as deeply wounded.
The Queens spent all their time orgasming into each other. The slave people fortunate enough to witness them stood in awe of absolute perfection. Those were the only tears that were wept with joy during the time.
Part Two
She opened her eyes when the cat, all wriggly and wet climbed onto her breast. Squinting into the sunlight streaming in from the open window, she discovered that she had a massive headache, and at some point, had managed to lose both a tooth and a spouse. “What am I doing in a cliche?” , she managed to humor herself. The same irony haunts me day after day. All of me just wastes itself in lamentation and extravagant displays of pure hell. Blissful are those who do not exist. But how would they know? How paradoxical is it that the beauty I see in non-existence stems from the very fact of my existence. Everyday I wake up steeped in unwavering unfortunate unconsciousness blasting myself forcing myself to just be able to open up my eyelid and for once just once bear the weight of just an eyelash with gratitude. No! Fuck gratitude. Misery, disease, horror and death. Wonderous beatific burning fire. Consume thy daughter! Never to exist. Fuck fuck pure hell! Fuck existence. Never to love. Fuck fuck pure hell! Fuck love. I shall become hate. The very embodiment of every action committed upon ourselves with the intention of the fourfold beauty of misery , disease , horror and death. Hail the damage. She kissed the cat on his mouth. Then caught hold of the cats tail, swung her arms around and flung the cat out of the window. She spat out a tooth. The second today, for the second life she had taken. Looking at herself in the mirror she counted. 28 remained. Some food was strewn on the floor - birds, animals, fruits. She picked up a Banana with determination and a plan.
She was up spine straight into the crowd. Her throbbing head was enough indication to inform her of the mess love had got her into. Head moved along with her heart matching to the drum beats she could hear from outside.
Baaaang!
A slave child bounced in on the floor. In no time it was up on its legs, and in absolute fear. The men outside had sent it to test the color of the Queen. The door opened. Every child of the mother that could see; saw - The Queen was Red.
The one that had fainted on the mother opened their eyes for the Queen was red. It lost all conception of the self as it walked towards the queen on its knees. Knowing the queens color was red made no difference to her. What the Queen saw writhing towards her smelled like purpose. She saw every single footstep was an affront to her order. Her chaotic intentions had been made obvious. Usually under these circumstances she would had looked towards her wife. Now laying in a pool of puddle water, all rituals being complete. Everyone one knew if one Queen had gone into the mother, the other couldn't be on it.
The Queen saw blood in every slave’s staring eyes. She wondered how she had gone from being the most adored to the most hated in just a day. She saw her wife’s wet eyes staring at her too.
Ouch! Xa shouted. The Queens were locked in a life giving position braiding each other’s hair. Lam was engrossed in curling the love she received, making it the very reason for her existence. “ If I said you were a divine person, that would be an understatement, Lam came closer and licked her divinity’s ear, continuing, “ But you know me, I’m not the one for subtle niceties, so go ahead - make an overstatement. “ Xa spat out her food laughing, saying, “ you’re crazy “.
Lam starts tickling her.
“No I love you more”
Xa’s expressions could not hide her great luck, her tickled contorted body made artifices that only being completely loved could bring. And that Lam brought. Every day. Every hour. Every second. Every time. They both knew that they had the key to the kingdom of heaven. Lam thrusted Xa closer towards her and shouted at the pinnacle of her heart, “ LoveJoy, we ARE in the kingdom of heaven. “
Xa nerved up and replied, “ Don’t say the truth.”
“Why?”
Xa continued, “It scares me. It confuses me. I never thought this life would be lived. Growing up I always wondered if I would ever meet myself. Everyone talks about meeting themselves at least once in their lifetime. Now that you’re here, I’ve finally found myself.”
Lam tearing up said, “I see myself in you too. I’ll see myself in you forever”
Xa looked at her ownself in Lam and wondered, “Why? Why me? I’m not even beautiful.
Lam pulls Xa’s half braided hair hard. Xa screams in pain. Lam’s animal half screeches, “Loving someone for their beauty is as pointless as loving someone for their shit”
Xa’s eyes were now completely in water, along with her entire soul-less body.
How did we come to this? The Lam walked outside towards the commune gracefully. She howled whenever she could. Cut open a slave whenever she could. She was the departing Queen afterall. Slaves would come forward and kneel to be sacrificed, for she was their God. She mercifully slit open their throats relieving them of mortal shells. Hundreds upon hundreds knelt down forming two lines alongside her path towards her EndGoal. Cheering her on. She revved up and swung around cleaning several heads in one stroke from both rows.
The two priests whom towards she was coming saw multiplied by several swing strokes she truly looked like a true goddess in a cross fountain of red showering her with devotion. The priests had tears in their eyes as they could not believe their fortune. They slowly and carefully uncovered the long slender icy cone that had been passed down from generations. The Queen and the priests stood together. Lam looked around to see everyone for the last time, And then towards the priests. “Forgive me grandmothers for I have wronged.”
The priests replied in unison, “ There can be nothing that is wrong, my child. Only varying degrees of open mindedness. ” They then winked together.
The Queen let out a laugh before she perforated her skull with the icy cone.
The priest inspecting the pouring brain matter of the former queen noted, “ It’s been a weird couple of days.”
“ What’s weird is that everything starts all over again.“