WARNING: contains detailed adult themes and strong opinions.

Friday, 30 August 2013

11 The Business of Death

We, the great ones, must always sacrifice something. We must hack them to pieces like John Brown, plan to destroy like Guy Fawkes- and we are always prosecuted for it. No, we are always executed.
My whole world went dark when she left.

Until now I had seen light, like a hedgehog in the box of a little girl. She found me and poked holes into my box. I could see outside, and there was light. And then she left me and night came, except night didn't leave. I do not breathe without her. I need her without her. 

I was on a plane, I was flying it. No, I was sitting next to the pilot. He wasn't moving- his face was green and mossy. His mouth open and a fishy stench filled the room. The c-opilot was a woman and she wore no clothes. She was bleeding all over the dashboard but she never noticed. Her conscience was disturbed, I've concluded. But the pilot was long dead, and the plane was falling, spiralling down. Crashed into the twin towers you say? Yes, but in Malaysia. No, is that New York? No no I'm pretty sure it's Malaysia.
I woke up.

They told me I was crazy. They told me I was demented.
No, Charles Manson was demented. I was in love.

I have had time to think now, about how humans are probably the only species who actively set out to kill a fellow being of the same species. We destroy ourselves, and I do not know of any other species that does that. Why would they? We are the only ones who make business of it, enjoy it, and are numb to it.

My favourite food is dinosaur chicken nuggets. Dinuggets I called them. Magdalene and I played with them during dinner, and though my T-Rex's could bite her brontosaurus's neck off, her brontosaurus could squash my T-Rex too. I haven't had any since she left me; the boxes sit at the back of the freezer waiting for her.

I think for her burial they should have had a golden coffin covered in diamonds, and a great big platinum statue of her as a grave stone. I think all the world should have cried for a year, and felt the same intense pain I do every time they looked into my eyes. Unfortunately the world doesn't work this way. No, death is a business and it is expensive. Disgusting how just the bare basics of sending your loved one to heaven can cost you your apartment and all its furniture, and nobody cares. The sun shines and they keep smiling at me even as I´m crying.

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