Paul got a letter from his daughter. He hesitated to read it. He put it away for a long time until he brought up the courage to open it. It said:
I had this voice in my head all my life. A voice that was telling me that I am a miserable piece of shit. That I don’t deserve love, don’t deserve pleasure, don’t deserve a fulfilling sex life.
Once the voice appeared in my dreams. It was the devil. A horrifying black cloud of terror. In that dream, I tried to fight him. Was it a him? Or was it an it? I tried to fight it, but my limbs were frozen. I could not move, as much as I tried. It ridiculed me and said You are mine. I whimpered and kept repeating to myself, No, no, no, oh please, god, no! Reality was disintegrating.
I woke up shaken and out of my mind. I pushed it all away, it could not be. I forced myself to forget about it.
Continue reading “A letter from his daughter”
May 9th, 2124 – The United Science Foundation of Altropia celebrates a critical breakthrough in space-time research.
June 15th, 2130 – The United Science Foundation of Altropia develops the first functioning prototype of the time machine.
January 1st, 2135 – The government of Altropia decides to travel back in time and bring a citizen from the 20th century back into the future, to grant him the great privilege of witnessing the society of Altropia – the first successful society consequently based on the altruistic principle.
February 2nd, 2135 – Jack Sober wakes up in a luxurious apartment in the Redwood District of Altropia’s capital, Veritruismo, after falling into a drunken delirium in the gutter of 1950’s New York City, U.S.A.. Jack thinks he must be the happiest bum on earth to have such a marvelous dream.
March 2nd, 2135 – Jack has been in Altropia for one month. Now follows the description of his day in the past tense.
Continue reading “Short story: Altropia”
After so many articles about unconditional love and all that, let’s have some variety. Sometimes anger and violence can be a good tool to enforce your personal boundaries. For example to shield yourself against bitchiness, guilt-trips, shaming and passive aggressive shit. And against overt aggression as well, of course.
This is something that happened to me a while ago on the street, as I was out to get some food. An small old haggard cunt with grey dyke-cut hair walked past some beggar who owned a dog. She screeched at him and said That is a nono! This is forbidden! I did not care for the dog or the beggar, but her toxic nature made me instinctively turn around and show her my face with disgust written on it. If she wants to go around throwing her black shit at everyone, she may as well get some back. Karma.
I looked away and she passed by. She then said behind my back, snarkily and bitchily Do not look that way! With that tone of supremacy.
Continue reading “How to put stupid bitches in their place”
My first day as a free man in two months. I take a ride into the city to buy a cheap checkers game. On my way around the cathedral I hear a woman scream. A man is firmly holding a relatively attractive young woman’s two hands at a restaurant table. Let me go, she shouts. I wonder what it is about. I look at her hands; she has some kind of necklace wrapped around her fists.
I suspect she attacked the man and now she is getting what she asked for. Let me go, you asshole!
She looks around; a few somewhat amused people are watching. Help me! Help me, you cowards! Aah, you are hurting me! I feel mild shame, but I will not interfere in a situation I know nothing about. Besides, it is interesting to watch. In fact, it is interesting that there really seems nothing I can do without knowing what happened. Justice is a blind bitch.
Continue reading “I saw a crazy screaming woman today – she reminded me of me”
I was sitting on a park bench. Then I heard some loud quacking and turned my head to the little lake next to the park bench. I saw a duck that was trying to get away while another duck had firmly buried its beak in its tail feathers. The superbiter was dragged along for a while until the victim finally got away. A few big loose ruffled feathers landed in the water; a guy on a nearby park bench, who was there with his girlfriend, looked at me and laughed out loud and I laughed back. What a funny moment.
What can you learn from this?
The attacking duck had a dominant mindset and was alpha. The attacked duck had a victim mindset and was beta or even gamma.
Be alpha. Be strong. Be dominant. Be a duck. To fuck.
Yes, indeed, that is the only thing that happened to me in the past month that I found worthy of writing about.
Inoccuosly, one of the cops calmly opens the metal cell door. Have they decided to treat me with respect, after all? Then two cops in heavy armor and helmets come rushing around the corner. I lie still and let it come and happen.
One of the stormtroopers jumps right onto my chest with his knee. I let my body be limp and after a few moments, I end up lying on the floor of the cell with handcuffs behind my back.
I ask them whether they intend to carry me. Drag along, rather, one remarks.
I study the floor and their shoes. The ones who stand right next to me look like a bird shat on the dominant black leather. The pair further away looks more cared after.
You could learn a lesson from your colleague there, I remark, his shoes look much cleaner than yours.
Continue reading “Fighting the system – Part 3: Transit”
The car arrives at the police station. I wait for one of the cops to open the door and I stand up. One of the cops authoritatively grabs my left arm. I calmly tell him that I managed to learn to walk on my own during the course of my lifetime. I slightly stutter as I say it and the cop mocks me for it.
We walk into the station and eyes from the many desks meet me with habituated and empty curiosity. I stare back and study them.
They bring me towards a cell and I have to put off my shoes. One of the cops pulls the cord out of my jogging pants. Classic. Am I proposed the idea of strangling myself to death with it?
Continue reading “Fighting the system – Part 2: My cell”
I walk the street towards the supermarket as I notice an elderly woman arguing with a policeman. She is pissed, because the cop’s colleague is prolonging the process by having parked the police car on a bus stop. Intrigued and amused, I approach.
I join the woman and the policeman and mockingly ask her what kind of horrible crime she has committed. She seems open about my inquiry, but the cop is not. He tells me to go away. The authoritative tone of voice triggers anger in me. I am reminded of all the occasions where I just let those fuckers walk over me.
I tell him that he has no business telling me where to go.
Continue reading “Fighting the system – Part 1: Fistfight with a cop”
The French broad is fucking hot. It drives me crazy. We arrive at the dock with motor taxis and set out to find the right boat. Or ship. Or something in between. The French broad is a Spanish speaker and navigates.
The old hag is with us, too, as is a young boy from the retreat. She really annoys me, something is fishy about her. I hate to tag along under the lead of the girls, but I would not know how to do better on my own.
We find the boat and hop on. I am a bit high and hurt my head. Most of the people are sitting under the coverage, but I feel like sitting in the sun, so I walk to the front of the boat and the others join me. The others begin conversation, I am bored and insecure. Indifferent and worried about my indifference.
The boat takes off after some difficulties – the dock is not exactly masterfully engineered, so the boats kinda bump into each other and sometimes block another from flowing in or out. Parked in. Little kids help to push the other boats aside.
Continue reading “Ayahuasca: The devil called me to Peru – Part 10: Magic mushrooms”
A bird was born. His father said: Good birds do not fly downwards. The boy was eager to soak up this wisdom.
The next day, the boy went to fly towards a mountain. He ascended and ascended and left behind meter after meter.
He arrived at the top and felt fully worthy of his father’s love.
Yet then it dawned upon him that he coult not possibly ever tell his father about it unless he were to fly back down to him again.
He flew back down again. His father was cold towards him. He felt ashamed.
The next day, he had a good idea. He flew back up to the mountain and decided not to fly back down. Instead, he let himself fall down, only to catch himself in the last few meters.
His father looked at him in shame and said: Did I raise a swindler and trickster?
The boy was devastated.
Hours over hours he spent wondering about the riddle’s solution. He desperately wanted to make his father proud.
And then he made the only logical conclusion there was: He was not to return to his father after his flight!
Well, of course, it really was that simple. He was to forever explore the mysterious heights above the mountains, get lost in them and find enlightenment!
Thus, the next day, he for the last time threw a proud and understanding smirk at his father and jolly flew up the mountain and then kept flying up until he exited earth’s atmosphere. And just as he thought he was approaching exaltation, his lungs failed him and he died. His father would be proud of him.