I am an emotional moral coward that has deserted his own life.
I get so many visits now within my dreams of the underworld.
Barney my dog now long dead appeared and ran up and down the right most aisles towards the stage ascending the short stairs during the performance. No one seemed to mind or notice. On the left every animal was now a human dressed in tuxedos.
Walking along with a group of students through a campus and mall within low architecture. The students telling me how they were going to Paris. And I feeling left out. The group of them entering a great low rotunda while I consciously avoiding took the path around it.
I ran a bagnio with a least one young woman as my thrall. I shot her cat up a thousand feet into the air within a large rocket using an RC control to trigger a parachute.
We ate armies. We ate paths worrying about how to fill up the compliment along the river with a full compliment. Seeing my father again coming back having been deposed. Deposed by death. I a bad son because in my mind I wondered, “Will he make money again and help me out?” “Since I am poor?” The battle. The event that I helped stage by the back of the dock. Where I laid my money on the floor. Profits from what I had been paid. In the meanwhile someone, one of the guests traveling outside into the night under the viaduct. Onto the street, I chasing after them to see if they were OK. All this in a bad neighborhood. Where I was surrounded by five or six. Who were going to intimidate before they attacked. And I managed with two steel styluses, one stuck in each ear of two of my potential assailants. So they backed off. And I got back to the location and found that the head mobster . . ! Some mealy mouthed little thing in a cheap silk suit had taken my money. The son of a bitch! Thinking somehow there was no past. There was no future. There was only the present. And wondering how I could synthesize one to regain the other somehow in a material way?
[version 1] Struggle, struggle, struggle! The earth, mankind fell into chaos through contention. And the result, The earth was flooded. And all tried to hide in the sea. But mankind was wiped out. Their souls has to go into limn to wait. And the fish dominated. Later on, somebody who was a ‘big macher’ in the area whee Cameo tower was died and they made all these memorializations. And I kept thinking why didn’t my father get the same honors?
[version 2] I travel to alternate residences contemplated in times past where I search for artifacts from my past. Walking in urban neighborhoods after hours or just past daybreak to places of old but passing familiarity. All to no avail because it has been re-rented. A great chaos visited upon the earth. It’s surface beset by uncountable tons of water sever thousand feet above what was once land. Aquatic species diving further down while humans now subsumed being resolved to be made wait while their souls remain resigned to limbo for the next eternity to arrive within which to be born into the material once again.
Someone of importance dying at Cameo tower and the local city fathers wrack their brains as to how to honor him. And I return to the edifice and wonder how they all could have forgotten how once not so long ago my own father was much more instrumental? My mother once again by my side in a large public complex of carpeted stairs with a wire pushcart. Her overstuffed arthritic frame struggling just ahead of me. Ambling unsteadily down the steps at what was for her a breakneck pace. Catching herself once along the way. Then a second time to my horror falling a flight to land on her back upon the treads. I running in a frenzy to her. Instinctively embracing her and picking her up after she had risen. Her body completely limp. The life-force having permanently departed. My tears unquenchable while I cried out for assistance hugging her lifeless body.
Today was a truly terrible day for me. Perhaps I have had worse ones? It started out with my recollection of a dream. Terrible events of earthly flooding of all that is known. The death of my mother re-portrayed before me. Helpless embracing her lifeless form. The awareness throughout the day that I have become incidental. My existence trivial. Unneeded, unwanted, and trivial. No one in the future shall know the great pains I have gone through to record my existence. Who care after all? How I turned every possibility of the past into folly. I have been a terrible fool throughout my entire existence. Maybe it is better that no one knows? Something that I can now look back on with total conviction. Hard now to visit the same old places and not be tempted to draw a tear from that well. I don’t own those places anymore. They seem to own me. Own my tears. Too much death in times misspent. Nothing one can retrieve in a photographic image. My hieroglyphs equally arcane as those of the Egyptians of old.
The seats at the bar where I ended up and sat alone to avoid my last remaining official role were empty by the time I had left. I called an irritating woman fat under my breath when for the second time she intervened when was attempting to ask about my order for food. She heard and knew it was her and left even though I was looking at the reflection of the television humiliating its contestants. Two cerveza’s too many. I didn’t feel like complaining did anyone any good. We all knew that as far as society was concerned we were everyone of us going to be fucked over after all.
Some made ideas to take an old broken TV antenna and place it out in the raging thunderstorm. Catch lightning with an old thick audio cable. Bring it into the Living room where the family is gathered. My hesitation and their protests mean that I missed the storm’s lightning. Inwardly I am glad.
The times offered little prospects for one’s hopes of finding fulfillment within their long held dreams. The Utopian fantasy of a single world empire integrated within a single set of ever-scheming unseen hands.