T H E - S M A L L - H O U R S
This is a true story. As true as my subjective bias can recall it.
My sleep patterns have
become pretty shit again. Later and later, until now I seem to suffer from
a constant sense of jet-lag. Summer has finally arrived but the days have
only shortened for me. I'm more alive in these late-night early-mornings than
during the daytime. Trapped in an endless dream-state that spills into my
consciousness. But my dreams have become a mere mockery of my real life. The
misadventures and social imprudence of my waking hours are so much more fucked-up
than your pathetic nightmares could ever bother me. It's all a fucking joke.
A real bad fucking joke. And apparently none of this happened. I have no proof
but my memories. So let me write it all down before the naysayers put me in
their shoes. Yet they weren't fucking there. So here, try my fucking Chuck
Taylors on for size...
Okay, okay, okay. Let's put this in context. I finished the third draft of my book Bark, part 1, on the last day of April, so I felt the need for a few days break to clear my head from all that demented shit I've been working on. Yeah, like that's going to happen. This will never end.
May the 1st came with a huge party on the streets of Berlin, that was pretty much just music festival. I didn't see any political agendas on display for this supposed May-day. You rebels without a reason are getting slacker every year. Anyway, it was all about hanging out in the sun with friends, and then sex till we were soaking.
May the 2nd came with the death of Jeff Hanneman from Slayer, and I paused: death is always the best reminder to appreciate life. But what life do I really have to give a shit about?
May the 3rd, and a cute blonde from Hamburg wasted my fucking time teasing me with her lies about how much she wants to model for my art. Always with the: maybe, maybe, maybe. She sent photos posing in her underwear just to show off the shape of her hips – which were excellent. But she's just another waste of my fucking time! I've always found females to fall into two categories. 1, they jump at an opportunity spontaneously. 2, they hum and har, and say maybe, maybe, maybe, but they never actually do. I'm too intolerant for these professional fucking procrastinators. After all, there's always more meat in the market. Always!
Saturday, May the 4th, and I found a scary mask in a costume shop. I couldn't stop laughing at how fucked-up it looked on me in the mirror. It's fucking terrific! And then I was at a birthday for a burlesque performer from Hamburg. So naturally the stories and shots began to flow, while some other chick wearing a horse mask rode the birthday girl like bull. Another performer was dressed like a male blow-up doll, and then with a Ka-boom, his fully erect hard-on fired a fuck-load of glitter all over the birthday girl's face! An ex-girlfriend of mine soon gave me shit for texting other females in front of her, even though she'd been recalling her sleep-over stories about dudes with small dicks. I smiled, called her a 'paranoid whore', and then pulled on my scary mask as I simply walked away into the small hours toward another party in Mitte.
Sunday, May the 5th, was a Mad-Hatter-themed birthday party for a dominatrix friend in a small garden south of Berlin. Another sunny Sunday with the usual-suspects all looking as one would expect after a Saturday night of drugs, drink, and other incestuous debauchery – plus funky hats for everyone! Later, I headed to a movie night at mate's place, as another girl text me, saying she finally decided that she really wanted to model for my art. Third time lucky.
Monday, May the 6th, was when I spent all day animating the trailer for Bark. By 'all day', I mean all day and night, and I didn't stop till the birds were fucking annoying me outside my windows.
Tuesday, May the 7th, and a friend suddenly wanted to take psychotic naked photos together with me after she had became inspired from some retarded internet meme. I said why the fuck not. And my scary mask looked exactly how I felt: hungry for lunacy!
Wednesday, May the 8th was the La Féte Fatale #12. I dressed as Major Obnoxious, the big fat pig, and did my dirty work at the party: grabbing tits and ass, and getting the fucking party started! Everyone loves a dancing pig. Ah, the flesh of so many pretty girls. Once the performances were done, I crawled out of my sauna of a pig suit, grabbed my scary mask, and then danced the fucking morning away.
Thursday, May the 9th, I woke up at god knows what time in the afternoon. I fucking hate giggle children outside in the sun while I'm trying to sleep myself to fucking death! Eventually, I dragged my ass out for coffee with friends. Then later at home, I Skype-fucked a new friend in Munich till we were both hot and sticky. The internet, it's a hell of a drug!
Friday, May the 10th, I woke up just in time to see the sun go down, and then met an ex-girlfriend at the Stychnin Gallery for a new exhibition of creepy porcelain dolls. Afterward, while on our way to Kreuzberg for another birthday, I was laughing so hard at a joke that I literally vomited cola as I cross the busy street! It still makes me giggle like a rapist thinking about it. At that bar, I followed the birthday boy into the corner of a crowded room where I stopped and frowned as he opened a cupboard and started to crawl inside… What the fuck? Suddenly, I realized there was a sneakily hidden staircase within the cupboard leading down to their secret basement party. There I met loads of Italians fresh off the fucking boat. Some dude quickly befriended my Russian ex, as naturally he spoke eight fucking languages fluently – and he sounded totally gay in every fucking tongue! Leaning over he then said how it was such a shame that I myself wasn't a fag too, while he undressed me with his beady little eyes. That night, I noticed that my ex was wearing my lion-skull engagement ring (the one that I had custom made for another ex back in 2006), so I decided right then to take it back and wear it again. Other douchebags were lighting their vodka-breath on fire, so I scaled the narrow stairs to a sofa in the main bar where two beautiful French kids had just begun a super-serious conversation about tedious fucking technology. I sat in silence unable to tune out their voices, until the skinny chick abruptly asked what I thought about the topic. The boy quickly leaned over as he added, "Are you political?" Son, everything's fucking politics! He smiled smugly and replied, "But not everyone realizes this." By 4am, I ended up walking toward my doorstep where yet another ex-girlfriend was waiting in the shadows. Waiting for me.
Saturday, May 11th, I woke up and found my ex texting someone else in my bed, but sweet Jesus, was I horny as fuck! So fucked her something brutal! She left, and I lay there wondering how much more I needed to do in order to reach a total destruction of empathy? The internet later told me about a burlesque movie screening at the Babylon theater that night, so put on my dress shoes, clean white shirt, black vest, jacket, and tie; and I soon found myself amongst my drag queen and artist friends. It started to rain before the film started, yet I lingered outside, where I happened to meet a tasty journalist waiting for her photographer colleague. How I keep running into all of these gorgeous women all the time just seems to be the way the fucking universe works. What can I say, I'm fucking charming! The screening turned out to be a documentary about hard-core, elegant, and trashy performers. After, I went for drinks with the organizers, and soon I was chatting up an Italian burlesque dancer. Once again, I didn't get to sleep till the sun came up.
Sunday, May 12th, I was invited to a Polish art-porn exhibition by a new fan of my Desecrationism. Later, I got a message from a girl canceling our Earl Grey date, but then got told I was on the guest-list for the Sepultura gig that night at SO36. And then suddenly, out of fucking nowhere, my last ex-girlfriend wrote a message to me, deciding that she really needed to confess how she had just fucked my gym-buddy... I wrote back to her, "You're only human."
Are you starting to get the picture of how my life goes?
Am I the devil?
Is the devil the ultimate humanist?
We humans are meat: worthless but so fucking tasty!
Midnight came and I slipped back into my dress shoes, walked out into the small hours once again, and strolled up to the Primitive bar. I was too late for the Sunday Soirée, but I had a drink while reflecting over the last few weeks as the bar slowly emptied out. There is no conclusion, there is only continuation. After all my work, all my art, all my experiences, all I have learned, and all I have fucked-up; all I really am, in a holistic sense, is just a miserable son of a bitch in a tailored jacket and hoody. So there I was, texting girls in other cities. I saw nothing but random chaos and bullshit. I loathed the very notion of tomorrow. And then the girl texted back, telling me to go to sleep. I smirked bitterly, but just walk away.
Plugging in my headphones, I listened to Nick Cave And The Bad Seeds,We Real Cool. I headed down Revaler Strasse, under low hanging trees, toward the train tracks, where I watched some guy walking his dog in the sheer dark of an empty lot. Emerging from the trees, I found myself face to face with the so-called 'gentrification' of Friedrichshain. That's a fucking word I'd never even heard of until a month ago, but now I fucking hear it everywhere. Even the other day, I saw graffiti on a wall saying, "Fuck gentrification!" That fucking word is haunting me. Personally, I couldn't care less about what's happening to the city. It's the natural evolution of any town. And these fucks in Berlin should already fucking know that this place is in a constant fucking state of flux! Stop acting so fucking surprised!
I felt my phone buzz in my jacket pocket. I ignored it. And then I spotted someone else walking down this lonely street littered with heavy construction equipment. A girl. I wanted to look away in disgust, yet I just kept on glaring straight at her fucking distant high heels and shapely legs beneath a billowing dress. I glared right through her silhouette and deep into her flesh with all those subtle movements of breasts below her long, loose dark hair that was barely lit from a yellow street lamp. While scowling at her, my fists slowly clenched and thoughts crept violently into my spine... Am I Bark?
I stopped dead in my tracks.
She stepped into the light and I instantly knew that shy smiling face.
Popping out my headphones, I tilted my head, "Mara?"
She remained at arms length in the cool night air as she leaned in to give me a soft hug. "Bruce, what are you doing out past your bed time?"
"So much for your theory about no physical contact," I replied, stepping back.
She grinned bashfully.
I stared at the meat on her bones.
Okay, wait. Let's give you some background on our dear little Jewish-Russian atheist, Mara Hershlag (this isn't her real name, let's keep her true identity anonymous). I've known her for some years now, two or three, but not really. Mara was one of those girls who fade into the wallpaper. Hell, to be honest, you could easily mistake her for a some small town librarian, easily dismissed. And for years that's about all the attention I gave her. Just a friend of a friend who perpetually looked like she was about give a speech in front of a thousand horny gang-rapists in a maximum-security prison while she only wore a wet paper-napkin. She always seemed nervous and breathing as if the air was made of mud. Anyway, I'm not really sure why I suddenly 'noticed' her last year. Oh, wait. It was her shoes! That's right, she always wears some fucking excellent heels. For a mumbling wee thing, she sure did have great taste in heels, I'll give her that much. I do believe it was at the last Thanks Giving party that I spotted this fine pair of Prada, and soon my eyes were led upward and astray. Up her shins to those thighs, and suddenly my brain is deconstructing the very fabric of her blouse, and formulating the curve of her breasts in this congenial atmosphere. And then you see someone for the first time. You see past the first impression of a passive little child, and see something that looks straight back. She smiled, then looked down. Then looked back into my eyes. I turned away and laughed with my friends over another horseshit conversation, and I refused to acknowledge her helpless act. For it's an act! For she is fucking female after all. Yet before she left that night, I told her that we should go for a cup of tea someday. I suddenly wanted to know more about her. Sure, I'd never deny the fact that I was attracted to her, I am a fucking male after all! So the next weekend we went for drinks. However, as the months slowly passed, I began to learn tiny details about her. But the more I learned, the more I had to remind myself that she's a fucking waste of my fucking time. But why, Bruce, why were you being such a judgmental asshole to this nice little girl? Well, Bob, what did I know about Mara? Mainly, that she didn't play games, she insists she likes doing nothing more than being alone, she doesn't 'date' – not even the young internet-millionaires that her friends tried to hook her up with, and she apparently didn't like being 'touched' by anyone.
"So you're a big fat fucking liar," I said. "Or did I just hallucinate that hug?"
"Yes, Bruce, this is just a dream," Mara smiled, as we stood in that deserted street with an S-bahn train gently creeping by.
"Well, I heard that if you concentrate on the back of your hands during a dream that you're aware of, you should be able to control it," I smirked, glancing at the snake-head tattoo in the back of my left hand. "So if this is a lucid dream, then why are you still wearing that dress?"
"I'm not…," she replied. "You just have a poor imagination."
"That's a first." And I stared blatantly at her breasts – and then she opened her tiny jacket, exposing her cleavage! I slowly cocked an eyebrow at her teasing posture. But then I remembered all the months of excuses that she would come up with, blowing me off every single time that I invited her out to any-fucking-thing at all. I had made the conclusion long ago that she clearly wasn't into me. So I looked away from her chest, not interested in wasting another minute on her, and I began to walk off.
"Where are you going?" Mara chirped up.
"What do you want?" I sneered, not looking back, until I found her strutting up next to me. "Don't you have to get home before your early start at work tomorrow?" I asked, as I caught a whiff of her perfume. And let me tell you, that smell went straight to my adrenal gland, if you know what I mean!
"Come with me," was all she said, as she suddenly moved ahead of me and waved down a passing taxi. "Let's go for a ride."
That wasn't a question.
It took me all of two seconds of what the fuck, before I climbed into the cab. She told the driver the address and we were off.
Sitting there in a foul mood, I glazed out the right-hand-side window where I had a flashback of when I was seventeen on late night drives with my best friends. Back when I wanted to do anything but go home. Anything at all. I loved just sitting in the back seat, staring out the window at the night as streets blurred on by. But how many times have I been here before. Then I was twenty-nine, sitting in a taxi heading to girl's house so I could fuck her in her sister's bed. Then I was thirty-three, in a cab in Edinburgh with another lover next to me. Then I was thirty-four, and on a road-trip to Rostock with another affair. But here I was thirty-five, and still staring out the window with the cool glass next to my temple. Yet I didn't really know this particular female. A meek little biped. I glanced over at her knees, as we drove into Hackescher Markt somewhere. I didn't know where exactly, didn't care. All I knew for sure was, the moment she annoyed me with even the slightest crap, I was going to leaving her fucking ass on the curb.
Stepping onto the footpath, I looked up at your average modern, inner-city apartment building. Speaking of fucking gentrification, Hackescher Markt is the perfect example. But Christ, listen to me. I'm almost starting to sound like I know what the fuck I'm talking about. Let's put the record straight however, after eight years in Berlin, I know precisely Jack-shit. The more I learn, the more I realize how I don't know anything. My fucking life is going nowhere here. Yeah, but who gives a fuck! My mood was a tar pit, and then I suddenly wondered if I really was fine with my ex screwing my friend yesterday. Fuck it. We were all sluts in this town. Everyone was fucking everyone! It's that simple. Ideas of attachment of any form were obsolete. Suffering was pointless, just like emotional justifications for relationships. It was all so fucking rotten to the core that I wanted to see this fucking place like it was 1945 all over again. Flatten this new Sodom! I wanted to watch god himself turn my ugly fucking soul into a pillar of fucking salt! I was no exception! I'm just as guilty as sin as all of you self-centered fucks! Can't you smell all that fucking adultery in the rancid air tonight?
Oh, but wait. As the taxi pulled away, I turned and found it was only Mara standing there. So let me put my erection away.
"Come on then," she said, marching down a narrow side street without hesitation.
I glanced irritated at the departing taxi. Why did we get out of the cab just to keep walking? Cracking my neck from side to side, I pondered to myself: you know what I could really do with right now? A trip to Tegel airport for a Starbucks milk-saturated latte. Fuck my tits, that's a great idea! Unfortunately though, I'm weak – and I looked up. God, why haven't you turned me to salt already? Watching Mara's heels walk away, I instantly became a fish on a hook. It's unconscious and uncontrollable, that whole wonderful mystery of attraction. But I fucking hate every-fucking-thing right fucking now! My rational mind was screaming at me like Zack de la Rocha, don't fucking follow her! But my legs were already pursuing. I wanted to put a fucking chisel through my own nasal cavity! Idiot!
But fuck it.
Let's see where this is going.
Where the fuck is she going?!
Pulling out my smartphone, I saw a message from my friend the baptist, "Oh yeah, and remember to breathe. Relax everything on the exhale. That works wonders and helps get rid of all the mental bullshit. Keep it strong brother, a good amount of us are going through dark times."
When I looked up, I realized I was completely alone.
Where the fuck did Mara vanish to?
"What's that?" Mara asked from behind. She was standing in the entrance to an old building with a tall metal gate, pointing to the scary plastic mask that was hanging off the back of my belt. Whipping the mask over my head, I pulled my hood up as well before I faced her. Mara giggled, and I grunted like a fiend as she stepped up close. She was real short, but I was on the street and she's on the curb and in heels. Standing right in front of me, she stared back into my eyes behind the mask. And we did nothing. Just stood there. Staring at each other. For the longest time in the dead-empty dead-center of Berlin.
Then I was filled with repulsion as memories of her depressions, excuses, and insecurities flooded my frontal lobes; and I whispered, "Are you drunk?"
"You know I'm not," she replied, and then crossed the street to another modern minimalist masterpiece of vague stainless architecture. Thumbing a code on the gate, she led me down a side path and around a corner behind the building. Finally we came to a small staircase above what looked like a basement doorway. She tapped at another combination-lock, as I raised my phone and took a photo of her. Shocked, she spun around mortified! She never liked her photo being taken – and that's exactly why I took it. But she suddenly snatched my phone without a word and deleted the pic. I flicked her the bird with my growing impatience, and so she snapped a photo of me in return while she poked out her tongue. Keeping my phone, she then pushed open the heavy metal door behind her with her ass. Goddamn it, that was frustrating!
But what the fuck was I doing here?! Though what the fuck else should I be doing? This was the path of least resistance. I just needed to accept the fact that Mara was as a-sexual as a coffee table. However, I wondered if maybe she was meeting some of her hot Jewish friends here. But seriously, we were in a fucking basement! As I ducked my head under the low ceiling packed with pipes and caged compartments, I smiled at another idea, that maybe Mara was in fact a psychopath. The more I thought about it, the more it really made total sense. All of her anti-social behavior and the hints she had made about her past indiscretions added up to her being a true, real life psycho-fuck. And look, that would then make me the one playing the part the stupid helpless victim that she had brought willingly into her butcher's basement and dungeon of doom! Jesus fuck! Think about it! We meet randomly on the street. No one knew who I was with. The taxi even dropped us off on a different street. Holy fucking shit, I thought I was about to get sliced and diced! About fucking time. We all knew it was coming sooner of later. But I never thought Mara would be the one to chop off my head with a rusty ax.
A light then came on from another staircase, and Mara headed up and out of the basement. So much for that murder story scenario. Yet another idea then crossed my mind. The fact remains: no one else knew that I was with her. So where's my fucking knife?!
As I left the basement, I was blinded by the neon white of a stinking clean foyer. I kept my mask on as I entered an open elevator. Mara was standing shyly in the corner of the lift where she handed my phone back just before we reached the top floor.
I was staring at my reflection in a mirror as we walked down a dark corridor. That hideous face suited me much better than my real one did. Mara moved quietly ahead and pulled out a set of keys in front of the last door. At this point, I casually strolled into a large unlit apartment and went straight to the huge balcony looking out over the roof tops. Suddenly I heard music. Soft but familiar. Then I realized it was Fever Ray, If I Had A Heart. I remained by the big windows until I felt hands reaching around from behind me. Slowly Mara's small hands moved up and under my jacket and hoody. Her palms slipping beneath my shirt and across my warm chest. I found myself holding my breath under my mask. Her head rested against my back, and she just held onto me. I didn't do anything. Didn't say anything. We both just listened to the music.
Eventually she pulled away.
Turning, I grabbed her hand.
She resisted, saying quietly, "Don't."
I held her hand for another moment, but she refused to look at me. Fuck this shit! So I let her go and I walked away, looking for the bathroom in this unknown penthouse.
Washing my hands after I took a piss, I paused on my reflection again. Wearing pig masks or this stupid one, came fucking easily to me. So I left it on, and kept of defenses up while in the presence of that passive-aggressive bitch.
Stepping out of the brightly lit bathroom, I discovered voices in the lounge. Two unidentified men in expensive business suits suddenly rose to their feet at the sight of me marching toward them – and instantly everything changed. They both start yelling furiously at Mara! I had no idea what language they were shouting, at a guess, it was Hebrew? One of the chumps then charged toward me! So I stepped up and he immediately stopped once he realized how much taller I was. Mara was trying to keep calm and explain something, but these two fuckheads didn't seem to be buying it. After all this time in Europe, I've become pretty good at judging what people are on about in other languages just from watching their gestures and listening to their tone of voice. These cats were not amused. The loudest one then did something I couldn't see, but Mara lunged at him! I was shocked, but then I was stunned when she some how flipped this fucking dude right over her shoulder and slammed his entire body weight down over a glass coffee table that shattered!
The second dude grabbed my collar and pinned me against a fucking wall while pulling out a fucking handgun from his jacket! But before I knew what the fuck was happening, Mara gets this second guy in an arm-lock and then smashes his head into the fucking wall!
Stumbling back, I was as confused as a constipated monkey with shit for brains. Then I saw the first guy shaking his head as he got to his hands and knees. So I grabbed a foot-tell metal miniature of the Eiffel Tower and thumped that cunt back to the floor!
Mara somehow had the second shithead face-down on the floor and was kneeling on the back of his neck. There she immediately tied his suit jacket about his own wrists.
I took a moment and looked over the bloody Eiffel Tower his my hands. Quickly, I proceeded to wipe my finger prints off it. However, I soon decided to take the blunt weapon with me, as Mara grabbed my arm and we ran out of that pretty fucking apartment. Ran down a stairwell, into an underground car park, and then Mara was driving us gently back into the empty streets. Don't ask me whose car that was.
Well, gee. That was unexpected. Looking around the fancy dashboard of the Bentley, I then examined the miniature Eiffel Tower still firmly clenched in my hands. Mara however, didn't seem to have even registered what had just happened. We stopped at a red light and I open my passenger-side door – Mara grabbed my arm.
"Just getting rid of the evidence," I stated, holding up the bloody weapon. I dumped it in a random trash can on the side of the street, and then off we drive.
"Have you done that before?" Mara finally asked.
"Are. You. Fucking. Kidding. Me?!" I sneered through my teeth, ripping off my mask. "Who the fuck are you?!"
"I've seen trained soldier's panic in situations less dangerous than that," she smiled like I understood her joke.
"Really? But I'm not a fucking soldier, I'm a fucking artist! Remember?" I exclaimed with a sarcastic nod, then added, "Mara, are you a robot sent from the future to protect me from my unborn child?"
"No, wait. What's your phone number again? It starts with a 007, right?"
"Seriously though, Mara… Are you Batman?"
"No!" she was horrified by the idea. "Capes are totally gay!"
I paused, staring at her smooth thighs behind the wheel as she drove through town. I was fascinated watching her hands on the steering wheel and her long brown hair over her little tits. "Who the fuck are you?"
"Bruce…," she quietly replied, dead serious, "I'm Batman."
Okay, I couldn't help crack up laughing as we drove into a private driveway and up to a huge mansion. I think we were somewhere just north of Berlin Hauptbahnhof. Slowly chuckling away to myself, Mara parked in front of the wide front steps below those classic double doors of gold painted renaissance style. There, I figured to just go with the fucking flow. It was Mara however, who suggested I keep the mask on, so fuck it, I did.
She rang the door bell, as I glanced around that courtyard full of Mercedes, BMW, and Rolls-Royce automobiles. The doors soon swung open just as Mara quickly hooked her arm around my left elbow. Oh, now we're dating? So much for her fucking no-touching policy. A short, fat butler greets Mara in Hebrew? I really don't know what Hebrew sounds like, but I assume she only knows: English, German, Russian, and Hebrew. Only. Ha! I'm such a fucking hillbilly.
We were led through this massive place of marble floors and museum-like works of art on the towering walls, until we found ourselves in a large lounge. Leather sofas, crystal chandeliers, and about a dozen ladies and gentlemen were seated rigidly about the room sipping on wine and smoking cigarettes. There was a moment when the polite conversation continued quietly, but then they spotted us, and a real fucking tense silence took space. You know, that sort of moment in a film where a high-pitched ringing would slowly build-up like feed-back. So I abruptly raised my right hand and waved excitedly to the gathering, "Hi, guys!"
I gladly abandoned Mara and strolled over to a sofa where I sat myself down next to some gorgeous chick in a skin tight black evening dress. Glaring at her through my scary mask, I watched that uptight female glance away as I leaned in close and whispered, "Love your skin."
The conversation started up when another servant in a suit offered me a slender glass of something bubbly. Before I got a chance to ask if they had any Mountain Dew, Mara walked up and dragged me after her. She was being led by another old chap in a tux. I saluted farewell to those perturbed guests, and then blew a kiss at the girl on the sofa as we disappeared into a private study.
There was a life-size stuffed panther in a corner of the room next to a gigantic fireplace. Mara and the old guy nattered on about Christ knows what, while I moved over to the panther with its dead snout caught in a frozen sneer. Leaning against the wall, I was staring out a window as I stroked the head of the panther, wondering if there were any other hot girls in this place, wherever the fuck we were.
"What do you think you're doing?" Mara then asked.
I turned as the old dude stepped out another door. Seizing the opportunity, I jumped on the back of the panther and pretended to ride that sucker like a fucking rodeo bull. "Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-har, motherfucker!"
"Stop it!" Mara demanded. "What the fuck is wrong with you?! Get off it, now!"
"Or you'll go all ninja-assassin on my ass again?" I asked, pointing both my index fingers at her while rubbing my ass against the panther's smooth back.
"No, but they might stuff you in a sack and deport you to a prison in Libya where you'll get your teeth ripped out long before they even start on your fingernails."
"Well, shit. If you're trying to scare me, you could have just shown me your tits." I immediately fired back at her, "Or lack of them."
She actually looked hurt – until another two guys in suits entered. Both stared in disgust at what I was doing on the panther… Slowly standing up, I cleared my throat and straightened my jacket – when suddenly the door behind me burst open and I was grabbed! Mara screamed something, but I was distracted by the two huge fucks pulling me out the door. Guess they really did love that panther. Then I was slammed against a wall, and punched by what felt like a fucking bowling ball in my guts! Dropping to the floor, I gagged for breath under my steamed-up mask. Those two pricks though, just grabbed my arms and hauled me up stairs.
There, they threw me in another room. Coughing and gasping, I rolled on my back as I heard the door being locked. Sons of a bitches. Crawling over to the wall, I realized I was in some plush bedroom, and then what did I find right in front of my eyes: a nice black stereo! So let me just catch my breath and plug in my MP3 player. None of this shit made much sense to me, but I felt like some tunes to chill out to, so I selected Clutch, Gone Cold. I love that song. And as I was staring out over Berlin again in those small hours, I had to repeat the question, what the fuck was I doing here? But instead of an answer, I recalled sitting on the roof of the studio in Tokyo, back when I was twenty, while listening to Kyuss, Space Cadet. Those little moments of isolation keep returning over the years. Times when you find yourself utterly alone and your only friend is a song. Music: one of the few virtues of mankind.
And then gunshots!
Flinching, I grabbed a lamp. Tearing the cable from the wall, I held that fucker up like a baseball bat toward the still locked bedroom door. When you go down, go down fighting!
Screams… Running footsteps… Another gunshot!
And then a fucking helicopter came down outside my window!
Glaring out the window, I was struck by how oblivious I had been to this obvious escape route. It was sealed shut, but I used the lamp and bashed out the fucking glass. The grass was spongy as I jumped from the first floor, and landed with a roll just as the chopper curved around to the back of the building where it landed in those blackened gardens. Dusting myself off, I glanced toward the driveway and walked away. Fuck this shit.
Leisurely strolling with my hands in my pants pockets and mask still covering my bitter face, I passed all those polished luxury cars – right when I received a text message. I pulled out my phone and saw it was from Mara. It just said, "Sorry."
I stopped. That fucking bitch! I looked back at the stone mansion. Cunt! This was that moment in all those movies that I hate, where you're screaming at the fucking idiot to just walk away! Walk the fuck away! Christ, that's what I'm fucking good at! Keep up the good work! Just walk away, for fuck's sake!
But rational logic is always hostage to temperamental bullshit.
So reluctantly, I slowly headed back toward that fucking helicopter. But why, Bruce, why would you return? Because I always love regretting the stupid shit that I do. It's far better than regretting the crap I didn't do. My ex-girlfriends know exactly what the fuck I'm talking about, don't you.
The chopper was powering down, and several guys in suits had moved toward the back patio where huge windows from what could have been a ball room lit the garden.
Quick decision: I whipped off my jacket, hoody, and mask. Pulled my jacket back on and buttoned up my black shirt all the way. Then I stuffed my hoody and mask under a bush before I subtly hurried over to the guys entering the ball room. Hell, no one knew who I was. It's easy to just act like I belong here. And it worked. It's hilarious how people will let you walk into restricted areas as long as you have a serious expression and look like you're on a fucking mission. Don't bother me, man. Jesus sent me here to poke your fucking daughters! So I walked behind this group of four guys and entered a room full of more rich-looking fucks. The guests thought I was with the others, and they assumed I was with the guests. But shit, now that I was back in there, what the fuck was I really going to do?
I heard a door slam in another room, and I suddenly glazed over all those snobbish fags – until I noticed that chick in the black evening dress again. She looked straight back at me, but this time she smiled at my human face. That's the Bruce-charm, baby.
Slipping into a corridor, I heard men yelling and a muffled noise that sounded familiar. Just then I saw those same two apes that dragged me upstairs, now carrying Mara away. I pulled out my phone and pretended like I was talking to someone by just nodding my head. I didn't want any of these cunts to hear my English. I gave the two thugs some space, and I waited near the front doors before I followed up the stairs. I was half-hoping to run into some kind of Eyes Wide Shut orgy going on, but alas, not tonight.
As I made my way along the upstairs corridor, another door opened and out came this fucking goddess! Tight navy blue skirt, blouse, heels, and long black hair with milky skin that was just begging for a licking. She looked up from under a long fringe, and instantly I forget everything else. Sorry, Mara, but I never was a nice guy. Walking slowly up to this woman in her early twenties, I watched her eyes closely as she began circling me like we were about to tango. Saying something in Hebrew, she looked me up and down, while I focused on her swollen tits tightly packed into that push-up bra. Of course I don't say anything. She could have just been asking for the time, or for the password, or whether I wanted to cum in her ass or mouth. I let the sexual tension grow as we stepped even closer. My hand slipped around into the small of her back as I smelled her hair and stared into her dilated eyes. Again she whispered something, and my pants grew tighter – but then I heard Mara cry out down the hall! Yet I didn't care in the slightest. I had both of my hands on this chick's hips, and they were steadily moving down to her ass – when footsteps came walking down the fucking hallway. She smoothly pulled away and continued gliding down the stairs with a smirk. I watched her go as some guy then put his hand on my shoulder. I didn't even pay attention when he muttered something to me before he also headed down stairs. Backing away, I turned a corner and found one of those big cunts standing guard in front of a door. He spotted me coming, and I glared straight back remembering that sucker-punch in my stomach. However, the guy quickly opened the very door he was guarding and waited for me to enter. I couldn't help the feeling that this shit is a set-up. Who was it that these assholes thought I was exactly?
Anyway, I stepped into this other bedroom and discovered Mara lying face-down with her wrists and ankles tied together with plastic restraints. The door closed behind, as I approached that incapacitated girl. She didn't move or say a word – not until she heard my phone 'snap' a photo of her!
"You can call me Uncle Fingers," I grinned, crouching down.
She seriously looked like she had just seen a ghost.
"Is this some kind of bondage-fantasy roll-play game that I've accidentally walk in on here?" I asked, while just admiring the view. "I can leave you be if you want?"
Why do girls only ever say my name when they're pissed with me, and never when I fuck them?
"Get me out of these, now!" she hissed under her breath.
I stood up and rubbed my chin. "Gee, I don't know. I like you but I don't want to break your rule of no-touching."
"Bruce!" She really wasn't in the mood.
"I know… This is some kind of scat-party, isn't it?"
"This isn't funny."
"You want me to leave? 'Cause I can do that. I owe you nothing. You're barely a fucking friend. I can walk out the same way I got in here, and not a single fuck was given that day."
"Please?" I frowned. "Okay, how about this. I cut you free and you continue being little Miss Excuses, and I'll ask no questions… But I finally get to take you out for a real date sometime."
"I can't believe that's all you're interested at a time like this?"
"A time like what? I don't know what the fuck you people are up to, and I don't really give two shits. But a slice of your ass, that's something tangible. That's as good as this bullshit life gets. Remember kid, you brought me here."
She said nothing.
"Typical…" And I pulled out my Gerber multi-tool from the back of my belt and used the pliers to cut Mara's restraints. She got to her feet and then grabbed my left hand, twisting my fingers back into an agonizing locked position! For a tiny little creature, she sure was brutal. Clenching my jaw, we eye-fucked each other for a moment before she released my hand. While I shook the pain out of my wrist, Mara sprung open the door and brought the giant guard down to his fucking knees! She struck him in the throat, and he choked, until she cracked his skull against the corner of the door frame! I glanced at my sensitive artist hand and realize I got off easy. I guess I really shouldn't ever piss her off too much. And then out of the room she went, and I followed – after kicking that unconscious fat cunt in his gut one last time.
Down another staircase and into a corridor, Mara soon opened a door onto the back garden – when gunfire echoed out! Automatic weapons from the front of the building. Mara grabbed my wrist and we sprinted for the chopper. But I yanked myself free and ran off, grabbing my hoody and mask from under the bushes. All hell seemed to have broken loose back inside, as I glanced into the ball room where machine-guns were being handed out – and then the very fucking foundations shook as an explosion tore up the night from the parking lot at the front of the estate!
Jesus fuck, this decadent place had somehow turned into a fucking war zone. Looking at my black hoody, I suddenly wished it was a bullet-proof vest instead. Then I saw two men in suits running at the chopper ahead of me. Mara shot them both in the legs! Where the fuck did she get a gun from?! The blades of the helicopter began spinning as I hurried over and yelled at Mara in the cockpit, "You can fly this fucking thing? Ain't you just a gem!"
Mara then pointed her 9mm handgun right at me – and shot some fuck coming up behind, "Gems are cheap. I however, am not!" Mara smirked.
"Oh, so now you find your fucking sense of humor." I said to myself, while climbing into the back of the chopper, as gunfire shredded the mansion. "Timing is everything."
More men came running toward us, but Mara plugged one dipshit, and the rest of them scattered like cockroaches.
This was my first time in a helicopter. Fun! We lifted off as men in suits with black machine-guns swarmed through the compound. I didn't know who was with whom in that fuck-up of a cocktail party. But then the chopper rattled as bullets nailed the underbelly! Mara pulled away, and I was thrown about like I weighed nothing. I grabbed a seat-belt just as the side door slid open and I nearly fell the fuck out. But we were off into the open night sky – while my ass was so tight that I couldn't shit an atom for all the money in the fucking world right then. But still, we were free, so I tried to relax. Not for long.
"Hold on to something. We're losing pressure. Hydraulics are dead. We're going down," Mara calmly called back, sounding as if she was merely announcing how she was about to take a nap.
Outside it all looked black as fuck from what I could see. But suddenly we hit trees, and before I could swallow my balls again, we slammed into the fucking ground! One great big impact and that was it!
I shook my head and grinned, "Well, that wasn't so bad."
"Run!" Mara stressed.
I then realized we were on fire!
Leaping out into that random parking lot that we had crashed in, Mara and I didn't get far before the whole fucking chopper exploded! I swear to god. a rotor blade barely missed out heads and impaled a fucking concrete wall!
"FUCK!" I yelled at the top of my lungs, before turning to admire the burning carcass of our flying machine.
Mara however, wasted no time breaking into a parked car and hot-wiring that fucker. She knew all the tricks. And then we were out of there just as quickly as we touched down.
"This evening is going just swimmingly," I remarked, pulling on my hoody again. "So how long have you been doing this whole espionage racket?"
Out of nowhere a fucking black SUV slammed into the side of our car! Then a second four-wheel-drive SUV came from the other side! Well, what would this adventure be without a high-speed car chase? It's times like these that I'm glad I wear my seat belt, 'cause Mara hit the breaks and the two SUV's shot past us. She immediately reversed the fuck up and raced down another street. I didn't know where the fuck we were. I think heading toward Prenzlauer Berg. Those two SUV's wouldn't quit though. I held on by the skin of my teeth and had flashes of The Empires Strikes Back, with us flying through an asteroid field as we zipped between other traffic at break-neck speed. And let me tell you, my asshole clenched tighter still! I glanced at Mara but she looked totally disconnected, like she was simply brushing her hair before bed. She then ripped up the hand-break, and we skid around a corner, and my testicles were suddenly in my lungs!
Flashing lights and sirens came after this chase!
And then gunfire again!
All we needed was a little Unsane, Killing Time, on the stereo and this would be perfect!
I grabbed the dashboard as we headed right into on-coming traffic and a fucking bus plowing straight toward us! I have no clue how Mara avoided that imminent collision, but the cops didn't! The bus buckled as shattered glass went flying every-fucking-where behind our tidy escape! Then we were charging down the footpath. Some dude walking his poodle lunged out of the way, the dog was pissing through mid-air! We drove out onto the tram tracks with an SUV right on our ass. Then a flood of blue sirens burst out from the side streets! Cops by the dozen! The SUV rammed the back of our vehicle again, and again Mara just shook her head as if a silly mosquito was bugging her incidentally. And then, hello, the fucking tram was coming! Fuck me! Yet Mara just kept on going. I looked back and forth between her and the tram. Was this really the time for a game of chicken? I think at this point my asshole was so tight, that the skin had sealed over and I no longer had one left anymore. But then, like a bolt of lightning, Mara whipped us off the tracks and skidded around and down another narrow street! I saw the SAV clip the tram but managed to follow us with the growing numbers of cop cars.
"So we're heading to your embassy, right?" I suggested.
"Actually, I don't work for the embassy," Mara admitted.
"Wow." I shook my head. "Just wow. You're a real little liar, ain't you. Wow. Have you ever said a single thing true since we first met? Don't tell me your real name's not even Batman?"
"Words are an imperfect form of communication," she smiled shyly.
"Yes. Yes they are," I agreed solemnly, when suddenly we screamed around into another skid, while Mara stretched her left arm out of her window, aimed, and then shot the driver of the SUV at pointblank range! That large black vehicle twisted and flipped! A churning ball of demolished metal bashed through parked cars, completely destroying itself and ultimately blocking the entire fucking street behind us!
And Mara drove casually down quiet side streets like all was well.
We quickly parallel-parked, and both climbed into another random car, then we were off once more before the cops could ever locate us.
Next thing I knew, we were in Mitte, and then walking into the Hilton hotel. I guess I was finally in a slight state of shock, 'cause I didn't say anything anymore. Mara led the way to a room, where I slumped into a big brown armchair in that five-star suite while trying to count the number of times I could have literally died this evening. But then Mara walked over and straddled me. She grabbed my head and suddenly started kissing me like we were long time lovers from way back! Jesus, let me catch my fucking breath! Shoving her back, I sneered when she clamped one hand around my throat and also slammed the barrel of her gun against my forehead! I sat still. There I studied Mara closely. No longer was she this timid, hushed little nobody in the background. Now she was burning with violent fucking intensity. Her eyes were fucking beautiful with a deranged sort of rage as she squeezed my throat and pushed the gun harder against my skull – I didn't give her an inch. Slowly sitting up, I put my hands on her back, pulling her close. Her face was right in front of mine. Her hand crushing my throat as we stared viciously at each other. Slowly I licked her top lip. She pushed me away, so I pulled her back down with me, pressing her mouth into mine. Lips open wide as her long hair covered me. My hands ran down to her ass and under her dress. Her hands on either side of my face. And the gun disappeared. For some reason, I though of the song by Medina, Black Lights. I stood and picked Mara up while we made a meal out of each others faces. And then I slammed her back against a wall! Pinning her there with her legs wrapped around me, one of my hands sunk into her bra cupping her breast, and then she drove a hand straight down into my pants.
I turned and lay her on the bed. Shoving her higher up, I crawled up between her legs, licking her neck. Suddenly she shoved me aside as she sat and walked away...
Rolling my jaw, I watched her walk to the bathroom – then I attacked! Grabbing her, I hammered her back against the bathroom door! She moved like she was about to stop me, like what she had done to all those hired killers – but she didn't do anything once I kissed her long and hard. I spun her around, and she pushed her ass back into my crotch until it was my back against the wall. Kissing her throat, my right hand goes between her legs while my other hand moved to her tits. Grinding her ass against my erection, she rubbed herself slow and strong into me. She felt good in my hands. Warm and delicious. Her breathing was deep and fast. Her eyes clenched as I sucked on her earlobe, and then my fingers slid into her panties and lower still. She gasped and held still. And my middle fingertip rubbed her clit in small circles. Over and over before my fingers slipped deeper and inside her.
She pulled away, just to turn and kiss me as she ripped my belt open. Watching her lower to her knees, I grabbed the wall. Without hesitation, she pulled out and sucked my hard-on so fucking deep that every muscle in my body tensed up! My hands slowly stroked the crown of her head, as she looks up while sucking glacially-slow on my dick. God, she was so fucking beautiful!
I pulled her up and we kiss while tearing at each other's clothes until we reached a big sofa. Turning her around, I shoved her to kneel over the cushions as I got behind her and whipped up her pretty dress. Grabbing her stockings and panties, I yanked them half-way down her thighs in one movement, exposing that ripe ass! I sniffed her hips and then slapped her flesh! I was topless and so was she. Fighting to pull a condom from my wallet with one hand, I continued finger-fucking her with my other. Then it's on. And I pressed the head of my dick against that pouting little pussy. One of my hands on my cock, the other gripping the back of her neck. She looked over her shoulder at me. Her mouth gaping as I slowly pushed my erection past her labia and deeper. She rose her head back, and I grabbed a fistful of her hair. With one harsh stab, I then drove my dick all the fucking way in! She gasped and I pulled her back harder. But we held still. While I was all the way up inside of her, I leaned over her, grabbing her tits while we kissed. Kissing while gradually moving, slowly fucking each other. She pushed her ass back vigorously, and I needed to get a better footing, as my pants were still about my knees. Standing up, I admired that fucking view. Nothing quite like screwing a girl with just her ass sticking out from her pale dress. The collisions then got harder and faster. Pounding and grinding. She moaned and whimpered. Who would have thought that she had such a foxy booty under all those clothes. But then again, who knew she was a secret fucking agent from some forgotten Cold War conspiracy or some such shit.
She sounded like she was cumming already, so I slowed and withdrew. Pulling her over, I sat on the sofa, forcing her on top. She kissed me as she guided my erection back into her smooth wetness. She leaned back, as I reached up and pull her dress down, revealing those perky fucking tits that I just had to get a fucking taste of. She rode me hard, clawing at my chest and digging her fingernails into my arms as she cried out. Driving her flesh violently upon my penetration, I had to cling to her hips and slow her down before she snapped my dick off.
She then flinched, sounding like she was weeping, and then lowered her head and started kissing me again. I gently continued the momentum deep inside her. I wanted more. So I pulled her dress up and totally off. Time to get naked. We got up and I laid her back on top of a table. Licking my way down her tits to her belly button, and then down to you know where. Her thighs clamped about my head, and it took all of my strength just to pry her legs away so I could continue. My hands moved inside her legs while I licked her precious clit, and started fingering her with my thumb. My other hand reached up and I found that she was already squeezing her own nipples. Then she put both her hands on my shaved skull, slowly scratching my scalp as she gasped in a frenzy – but then suddenly she shoved me away!
I grinned. Now that I had the taste of her sweetness, I wanted more. I pushed her thighs wide, wide, wide fucking open. My palms pressed down and fingers spread her apart as I placed my erection against her vulva. She was sweating. I loved watching her mouth. So I got her to suck on my thumb as I carefully inserted my hard-on back into her pussy again. She sucked hard, and I pushed deeper into her and pulled her hips close. And we fucked. Pumping her on the table top. My hands on her legs, over her stomach, crushing her breasts, reaching under her ass, and holding her tight as I fucked her again and again. Vases on the table fell to the floor and shattered, but who gives a fuck? I do! Ha!
She sat, so I picked her up. I was still balls-deep inside her as I walked us to the bed. Dumping her in the center of that king-size mattress, I rolled her onto her left side, her left leg straight, the right leg bent up, and I was on top and back in her pussy. I could feel her cervix against the head of my dick, and she loved it. Clutching her right hip and thigh, I used the bounce from the bed to fuck her faster and deeper. Staring at that big tattoo on her back, I suddenly remembered sitting in a café when she had first shown me photos on her phone of her ink. She was even better in real life. I ran my palm over her tattooed skin just to remind myself that she was actually here. She then cried out and could hardly breath as she climaxed again. Then she had to push me back. I slowed down. She tried to breathe.
"No more…," she whispered
But I was only just getting started. Yet she twisted around, climbed on top, and then ripped the condom off. Well, okay. I watched that glistening rubber sail through the dimly lit hotel room in slow motion – until I felt my hard-on slip back into her mouth. Oh. sweet Jesus on a cross! That girl had some fucking insane kind of Jew-blow-job-power, because she sucked and jerked me off till it was my turn to gasp for fucking air!
Then she crawled up and whispered seductively, "Do you want to cum in my ass?"
I swallowed. I almost came right then just from hearing her say those fucking words. "Ah, yes!"
She smiled like that modest friend I had once known her as, and she reached down and kissed me. Sitting back on top of me, she aimed my hard-on into the eye of the needle. She arched her back, and I hold my fucking breath.
"Slowly," she murmured.
I didn't actually do anything, just laid there watching her exquisite expression as she pushed her ass down on my dick.
"Oh… Fuck… Yeah…," I gasped.
Ride 'em, cowgirl!
She pressed down further, and I grabbed her hips and fucked her slow. Sliding in my erection from the head to the base. Paused. And then back out to the head. Paused. Then in. Paused. She leaned forward, kissing me incredibly tenderly, but then whispered, "Fuck me hard. Bruce, fuck me in the ass as hard as you can."
Thank you god! Finally she said my name when I actually wanted to fucking hear it!
I told her to twist around, face away, and then sit back down but lean backward onto me. Lying there, I held her hips up in both of my hands as she spread her legs when I started fucking her faster. I fixated on her ass pounding against my pelvis. Her hair hung in my face and she moaned louder. Fucking her endlessly, our bodies slapped together like clapping hands. Sweating like a motherfucker, I loved every fucking moment and inch of her.
I then stopped, rolling her over as I got on my knees and pulled her up on all-fours. I forced her knees wider. Wider! Pushing her head down against the sheets, I then took her wrists and made her reach back and stretch her own ass cheeks open for my viewing pleasure. She did everything I asked, and I glared insatiably at her tiny asshole that her fingers spread like a target. Her vulnerable stance was like a magnet drawing my hard-on directly into her anus. So tight. So fucking good!
"Cum!" Mara cried out. "Cum in my ass, Bruce! I want you to cum inside me! Cum for me, Bruce! Oh, god! I'm going to cum again!"
Clenching her hips in my hands, I scowled at her fingers gripping the pillow that she buried her face into and squealed while I brutally fucked her! Pounded her hard! Pumping faster and fucking faster! She screamed into the pillow as I sodomized her ass so fucking hard that my blood boiled! Stabbing her flesh! Punching myself all the way inside her with every ounce of strength I had, and then I fucked her harder still! Over and over, deeper and deeper, again and again! And suddenly she lifted her head and cried out in pain – and then I came so fucking much that I couldn't stop! Smashing my body against hers with my blood-shot eyes blurring over as I stretched back in a spasm. My arms contorted, shaking with my hands that slowly covered my eyes while I fought to fucking breathe…
Kneeling behind Mara with my hard-on still all the way inside of her royal asshole, I then had flashbacks of everything that we had gone through this morning…
Eventually looking down, I immediately wished I had my camera on me. My mental-photography will have to suffice. 'Click.'
Pushing Mara forward, I laid on her back. Plucking her own hair off of her sweat-drenched face, we kissed between heavy breathes. Grinding my erection deeper inside her ass again, she gasped, as my eyes rolled to the back of my endorphin-sodden skull.
"I like touching you," I whispered. "Especially on the inside."
She laughed softly, then kissed my cheek while looking in my eyes. That was when she quietly stated, "You do understand that none of this happened."
Slowly sitting back, I studied my fat cock in her tight ass. "Not even this right here?"
Mara smiled sadly and shook her head.
I withdrew my still hard dick where some residual cum dripped onto her thigh, but then I pushed my penis straight back into her moist anus. "Wow. This feels pretty real to me."
"The people I work for will clean up everything that happened this morning," she whispered. "And I'll deny even meeting you last night. That's how this all works. You understand, right?"
"Yeah… Yeah, I understand," I replied, yet I was only interested in watching my dick as I continued withdrawing and penetrating her rosy rectum. "So then if there's absolutely nothing I can do that will make any of this 'real', then it's all just a memory. It's only as real as I remember it. But right now… You're mine… All mine."
"And never again…"
"I can live with that, cutie pie," I grinned, jumping off the bed. Snapping my fingers, I moon-walked into the bathroom, adding with a wink, "You're a bit of a psycho, but your ass was fucking worth it!"
Mara went to the bathroom after me. When she returned to the suite, I was standing naked staring out the huge windows as the sun came up with another meaningless Monday morning in Berlin. She stood behind, putting her arms around me and holding on tight. It was like she was terrified to let go.
"Was it really worth it?" she asked faintly. "Really?"
Turning around, I looked down at little Mara who giggle once she saw that I was wearing my scary-face mask again. Pulling myself free of her embrace, I then answered her question with a callous, "No."
"You can stay…," she whispered, staring at the floor.
She said nothing.
Slipping on my jacket and checking the time, I glanced at Mara watching me from the middle of the bed. She sat with her knees up below her chin, all her flowing hair draped over both shoulders.
"If you need someone else to tell you the value of everything, then nothing has any relevance," I said bitterly. "This was all pointless. But you… You were worth it… To me… But I have no idea what anything means to you."
Opening the hotel room door, I lastly grabbed my scary mask.
"Bruce…," Mara spoke up.
I scowled back.
But she just stared at the floor.
"You look like you need a friend," I said. "Try being one."
I pulled on my mask and quietly shut the door behind me. Plugging my headphones in, I listened to Puscifer, Horizons, and buried my feelings like the weakness and lies they always were. As fucked-up as my life may be, as immoral and abominable as I may live, I still wonder at what people are thinking when they expect that I could comfort them in any way at all? I'm not a good person, just like all of you fucks! We all have our secrets, but once you tell me yours that doesn't mean I have to fucking keep them!
So I wrote all this shit down as soon as I got home this morning, while it's still fresh in my fucking mind. But who knows what the fucking truth anymore? We're all fucking liars!
© 2013 BRUCE STIRLING JOHN KNOX