Spiritual Musings on a Chemical World

Friday, September 25, 2015

Martyrdom Composed Harmoniously Without Sound

But how? said my dad.

What?! I screamed. We were waiting at the market for a fish taco. When all was said and done, we left.

I left first, he left last. Together, we both left twice. When we got home, I ran to the bathroom. Time to urinate frequently enough to entice my bladder with envy.

What's that? said a voice behind me. It was Mischief. She wanted to play.

NOT NOW! I screamed, and vomited all over the password to my computer.

Where now? I asked my mind. The cough syrup was in my system. I wanted to ruminate and decide on many a thing, but first, Mister Friend Time came out of the closet and bamboozled me with more games and merry things.

Time for a shower! My mother crooned through the back door, but her heart wasn't in it. I asked her what happened to it? She looked at me and sighed, told a tale of a long lost love gone foul, and moaned about it for an hour or so before I vomited again all over her blouse. When I was done, she thanked me for a good supper and went outside to iron the shower curtain I had bent out of shape.

Who's this? My dad asked me through the window. He was mowing the lawn. He looked pale. I asked him to stop using so much sun block, and he scowled and cried. I comforted him with a song and he made out with my mother for an hour in back of the shed. I watched and cried a tear of love gone awry, then went outside again to remove myself from the madness going on in my mind.

Time for a walk! My friend Penelope sang out from up above. I wandered awhile, amiss with gratitude for the masterful idea of love she gave me in my mind. I watched the sky turn gray, then cried out for the sun to envelope me again with pleasure.

At the energy drink store, I decided to try something new. I bought a new flavor of breath mint and spewed tales to my friends there. One of them laughed, the other sniffled, the next scowled and then went up to heaven without looking because he was about ready to die already and the story pushed him over the last place he had been in his mind near death.

On the way back, I slipped and fell. When I got to the bottom of the puddle, I couldn't find my way back to the top. When I made it there, I found out I didn't really make it out because my dad told me so. They were in the car. Time for a visit to Grandma-ma-ma, fa-la-la-la, diddly deedly da.

When we arrived at the hospital, the lady in red was waiting. What have we here? The man in black said.

Ritalin in, Ritalin out. She made it out of the puddle alright, but her mind is still out the door!

The probed me with needles until I made out with a man in the waiting room, who was visiting his mom who slipped and fell in the shower and broke her face. With her face broke, she couldn't ask questions of a fucking mean nature anymore, good riddance. I asked him if he missed her. He told me yes, but at the same time he would rather see her full of needles than happy in her place of worship.

I looked past the stars and the sky, until I got to the end of the story line in my mind. When I was finished, a girl asked me if I was blessed. I told her once I was, but the needles took it away. She pretended not to hear me and ate a sandwich loudly. I screamed loud enough for her to hear, but she didn't hear. I screamed again. And again. And again.

When I awoke from the nightmare, I was surrounded by elves. They danced in circles and waited for an answer. What is the answer? they asked me over and over again.

I did not know. I cried and shriveled into a ball. They danced some more and asked again. I still didn't know. I cried again. They danced and laughed and hurt each other with knives until they all bled. They bled so much I couldn't stand it. I tried to wake myself from this bad dream but I couldn't. The narcotics were too strong.

When I awoke, I was mad. Mad at the doctors. Mad at my dad. Mad at my mother the most. But in the end, it was okay. You didn't die. Your reacted powerfully to the medication and survived without insinuating that there was anything wrong with what we did to you. That's good. That's fine.

Then, I was okay inside, but filled with venom for all that had happened. I wanted to write books. Sing songs. Dance in front of the judges at the hospital for making it all up. They were the bad guys.

But I didn't. Instead, I stayed true to myself and sat back and listened to my mom. She told me over and over again. Die little, die less. Die more, die yes. If you make it out of this rat hole, don't listen to your parents ever again. We failed you once, failed you twice, without a doubt, the happiness is nice. But when you die again, don't wither. I'm watching you, Rachel. I'm watching you.

I lived again, and that's the end.

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