The Journal, A Memoir, Pt 1 contd.

 May 31st 

Noticing his casual posture between flickering lanterns, he in comfortable in drab damp surroundings. He sips his beer. I sip mine too. We laugh. Shadow haze a thousand smoked cigarettes saturating mirrors. Our image is a blur.

 PLEASE NOTE: Parts and scenes in this story contain graphic, not necessarily 
 violent, but sexual imagery, suggestion, and vulgar use of the English language. 
 Any readers sensitive to this subject matter please stop reading.  

“Yeah,” I say. “I’m not to worried man. Ya dig? I mean, I’ll die and it will all be over. It will all turn into something else. I got a way out man, but youuu…” I lean over with my finger. He looks pissed. I shouldn’t point my finger like that. It's rude. The rage simmers a little in his flickering golden lion pupils. I’ve hit a nerve.

“You’re kind of stuck with this job man. I’ll have other occupations. I’ll have more chances, other options. You, no sir, you got what you got and there ain’t no changing that.” I retract my index finger.

He tips his thick head back covered in a shaggy buoyant dark mane and polishes the last few drops of his beer. Slamming the tiny glass on the table it cracks.

“So, You have no worries?” his voice echoes in the dark atmosphere.

“Well, no, not really,” I said. “Not like any of this is really anything so I suppose, why should I?”

He rubs the hair of his chin with two sharp fingers. “Right, right, you’ll get that. I guess not.” He says leaning back comfortably in the lawn chair and reaching for the cooler. The lid pops open. He dips his massive hand into the pile of ice fumbling for a beer. Finding a cold one he cracks the lid and slams a large gulp. Foam leeks around the corners of his mouth. With a big sigh he sets it down. “So you feel certain nothing matters? You place your bet on death? That is your way out?”

“Exactly!” I say. “Death is a sanctuary. An escape route.”

“But while you are alive… while you are in the thick of this soul’s theatrical performance, wouldn’t you agree it is my pleasure to make it a burden?”

“No?” I say puzzled. “I mean, why?” I pull out a small flask of whiskey and twist off the cap. The small tin circular lip finds my mouth. There is absolutely no wind to the night. “Isn’t life hard enough?” I said taking another sip, “you don’t have to be a dick making it any worse.”

“Oh! But it can be more and it is so enjoyable." He slams his thick gorilla fist into an open palm. Coarse stubs of hair cover each finger. “The endless entertainment!” He shouts laughing, “and give me that damn whiskey kid!” he snarls. Two enormous fangs protrude from his bottom jaw as he snatches the flask from my grip. Golden red eyes gleam angry under a thick heavy forehead, horns reach into the sky touching the clouds. He tips the tiny silver flask towards me with a wink and says, “To the trees, stars and this empty breeze.” Without letting the bottle touch his dark lips he lets the liquid coat his thick leather tongue. “Ah-Damn-it kid!” He coughs spitting out the contents. “You cheap son of a bitch! This is shit!” He throws the flask over his shoulder and snaps his fingers.

A beautiful woman appears with two tumbler glasses swirling with golden liquid on a silver platter.

I reach for one, “well, if I would have known it was going to be this kind of party I would have worn my good suit.” I said smelling the whisky and making eye contact with her before taking sip.

She smile a fine cute smirk. Her dark eyes glow burning into my soul. It's a delightful pain.

“I forgive ya kid. Don’t worry about it. I’m good like that.” He smiles his fangs in the moonlight. “Drink up. I got all the money in the world.”

He grabs the glass, bone claws clinking on the glass. “Now what were we talking about?”

“I don’t remember.” I say watching her disappear through the perspiring glass. “Think I could get a splash of sour in this?”

“Sure kid, if ya want to f@cking taint quality,” he says. “Anything you need. Remember, I’m the man. Don’t forget that. I’m everyone’s best friend,” he snaps his fingers. She appears with a green bottle and pours the carbonated fluid into my cup. I just wanted to see her again.

I sip, and I sip, and I stare into the dark oblivion, red skies looming.

“I just don’t see how it is fair.” I said.

“What fair?” he lowers his drink licking his lips.

I move my butt in the chair to make myself comfortable. “I mean, I don’t get it, it doesn’t seem right. The big dog himself. He’s like the CEO to the universe who gets to sit back as if our purpose is to be ever-present entertainment. It’s like having 6 billion channels flipping between lives, get some laughs, views, change the station.” I take another sip. My ice cubes have almost completely melted.

“It’s like he went on vacation and we’re all here fighting, killing, disagreeing and running crazy like little lost children confused on the playground without any guidance.”

“You got a point.”

“The world is controlled by bullies who think they’re the boss. But they don’t know shit."

He rubs his chin and scratches his groin. “Did you ever stop to think infinite happiness or eternal existence could be misery?” He asks.

“No.”

“You humans never stop and think about things.”

"Social enslavement and spiritual fraud, methods to separate humans from themselves and the natural world, blind submission to their authority that puts everything into the hands of a higher being to justify crimes in the name of divine. All Religions give power to those who control the myths. It’s slavery and physiological control. The Good vs Evil deal has been beaten to death for eons. It's on repeat.” I said taking another sip realizing again my glass is empty. “It’s a head ache. I've thought about shit.”

“What is the function of any religion? And what does it matter if it is true or not? There is no way to know reality form certainty. What function does myth play in culture or society?” I try licking a few drops of booze out the empty cup. “But hell, what the hell do I know? I’m drunk.” Looking sadly at my empty cup, I frown.

“I’m just here for the ride.”

“Yeah me too! What’s the point anyways?”

“Yeah.”

I look around. She is gone. “Can I get a refill?”

“You got it bud,” he snaps his fingers.

“Thanks dude.” I smile and take a sip while watching her walk away.

“Damn!” He bellows reaching an arm out to mine and lowering the cup for me. “Kid, you ought to slow down. That ain’t the cheap shit you’re use to. You have to sip and enjoy.”

“What! I don’t give a damn. You aren’t my parent. I’ll drink how I want.” I push his thick gorilla arm away.

His eyes flash red with a growl. A little white puff of smoke seeps out his large dark nostril. He takes his cup and in one strong swallow finishes it. “You’re right, you’re absolutely right. Why should I give a damn?” He grabs my empty glass and asks. “Another round then?”

“Right on bud!” I shout falling over in my chair.

He laughs from the belly. It shakes the Earth.

Sky on fire.