Cryboy 9# Rain reminds me of a comedy routine. Things I shouldn’t speak of. From pity to the less pathetic.

Cryboy 8# Mob banality

Hardly more than a year ago, I had tried to kill myself. What you can obviously observe in these pamphlete like writings, was that I had failed in my desire and despite everything, had never completely left my failure behind. Like a baseball player shaking on the base at the moment of truth and throwing the game away. I couldn’t help but think again and again that everything that came after that, just like before, was my own fault, because if the past Nathaniel had done it, then I would have spared myself a hell of a lot of shit and effort and all the others around me probably a lot of pain to deal with.
It was a good lesson. My mantra had turned to “At the end of the year”. On December 31st, when I just sat around as usual and thought of nothing, I now weighed off whether I should spare myself a new year of this clowns show. At least it should make you think that I had never done it, probably means that there were still things left to conquer. That’s all I could find on that day. I couldn’t leave here, I didn’t have the money. For my type of personality there was only rapid rise or fall. And the truth was I couldn’t stay because it was killing me. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, I could talk to everyone about everything and be honest with myself was the only thing I was good at. My problem is the same as many others, I identify myself with my sadness.
Any therapist fresh out of college and hired by the state to fulfill the healthcare duty, could tell you that wasn’t good. He would advise you to look for something new, but I kept thinking of the rest, that the boy would recommend to me, as huge bag of nothing and to look for something new, sure, I’ll try, I would tell him and think “Do you believe yourself when you talk?”.
The absolute truth, I kind of liked it. It was a good feeling to feel something, even sadness and in the end a valuable lesson had to surface before I got up to something real and tangible. Because with my luck, with my mentality and my filter applied to this world, it was that even if I fell into a pot of gold tomorrow, I secretly hoped that I would suffocate on the single pieces. Blue-blooded till the end. Run from top to bottom in the color.
Choking. I often thought about pulling a plastic bag over my head. It certainly wasn’t the most pleasant way to go, but I thought it was nice that if I got found no one had to look into my face. It was a goddamn reassuring, but at the same time obscurely funny thought. I didn’t have to worry about it. That was a “over my DEAD body” situation, and in that case I’d be dead on the ground. I didn’t have to clean up after myself. Some crime scene cleaner could do that. The thing with the face was probably a sign that even in death I am still ashamed. Shame, what a catalyst for coercion.
I bit off my fingernails until they were chewed back exposing the twirl of skin reaching the flesh that held  the chitin in place and the dark minne, the woman who sat opposite of me wore, made under the pain no longer any difference. She was really a mean witch when it came to criticizing me. Experiences kept them ahead of me, but I knew the same bad experiences don’t make you any wiser if you don’t catch yourself doing them. At least you don’t panic when you’re in a “swim or drown” – situation again.
My aunt had picked me up from the gate. By the turn of this year – 2020, I came across the Atlantic to the land of the free to get scammed by whoever is smarter. I loved this country. The food was full of sugar and excessive amounts of fat, and you were able to stick out without ever reaching out of the mass, people were more approaching, it was a perfect country, except for its lack of the exquisite European banter.
Without the humorous distain rooted deeply into the population in American, no wonder they had to sell you so many different brand of Anti Depression Pills to cope with all the happiness. Don’t know if misery was so strictly strung to our DNA, but in the great E-Union, nobody has to hold back when it comes to cursing. And nobody hungers except if he wants to…and that were a lot more people than one should think or hope for. Our biggest accomplishment since the Sequel to the War that will end all Wars was the wealth fare state.
Yeah, Close Rivalry between in approximation living cultures leading to advancement in technology mainly used to feed men that could be fielded in armies, was so pre WW2. We just got tired. Turned grey. A full continent of old people. Clap Clap to the new generation, at least without us Imperialist pigs none of this would exist.
I came by plane. I was going to L.A. to meet my great aunt. A letter was one day in my box. Before New Years she wrote to me: “Hey Nathaniel, our family tree is dying out, want to come and meet me?”. It was longer, but I think you get it. It was nothing special about the letter. Except that it was made out of paper, but I didn’t use facebook…so go figure, it wasn’t that special to me. After a while I learned: less is more. At the airport I picked my sparely packed suitcase and rolled it through the airport hall.
At entrance of gate I got picked up by unexpected young looking woman. I had googled her on the flight. She didn’t look like 68, more like 52. I didn’t picture myself any telling characteristics coming with these numbers, but the gap should make you think. She had a small sized business in comparison with the wide range of monopolistic markets of the States, but she knew how to find a niche: sea weed. Pretty genius if you ask me. Sushi seemed like a drug to Californians, they ordered it basically every third day. Her sector was safe from the interest of the big players, but then again Disney owns an Eishockey team. So maybe only a matte of time. Why? I mean if I were Amazon, I would buy her up and establish a food delivery service and bully out to competition by networking with the Japanese restaurants . Take 5% by charging the customer 5%, and make all the delivery for them, who cares if Amazon and Jeff Bezos runs a lose in one sector. He will bully them out by time. Maybe it is time drop the appearance, to become the villain his bald plate indicates. Does art imitate life, or does only cheap children storytelling do?
Back to my great aunt. She had acquired enough health in her life to life in an upper class house. Pretty impressive. When I googled the address it looked really great. She never had any children. I didn’t find any on her profile when I looked her up. It is weird. how much one could find out without ever meeting them.  But I think one easy conclusion and harsh reality hit me in the combination with the letter: She had given up one thing for another, an equal trade and it was very obvious why she searched the contact with me. I mean she could be dying and want a kidney; but more likely was that she wanted to share what she had achieved with someone.  I will be a honest as I can, I thought maybe some coin for my piggy bank on top of the flight was in it for me, but even if I played with the thought, I didn’t press to exploit the old respectable lady more than I felt like I have had and was just happy to get out of my life for a week . I told my colleagues at work that she was dying anyway, and the advantages of shift work was that I had gotten a free week in an instance. I didn’t know my colleagues that well, but after doing the night shift over New Years and the additional pressure of missing a time window, they were fine with it. It was more of a white lie with a lot of truth to it: I wouldn’t visit my great aunt again, and she will probably be dead at some point in the near future, so I am not going to use the excuse twice. In my story  she could magically recover as well. I don’t know, I don’t like to do it, but I take every monetary advantage I can without torching my mind over it. Lying is an art. Honesty is super fucking simple.
“Nathaniel”, she stood at the gate.
But if you want discuss North America, you have to be honest; how much gun violence is just poverty/drug violence/people who have given up/religious lunatics; our EUROPEAN healthcare system is a safety net against a greater number of roaming meth heads, but from your birth onwards your are bound to the federal state of your country. A contract written in blood made by your ancestors to reach a compromise because the aristocratic rats in the European West kept sneaking back in their greedy attempts to power, no matter how many heads you chopped off on the guillotines. Worker rights were their answer. Even if they can buy more US guns, fire weapons that protect the rich also protect the poorest people – that is what their shitty second amendment means; it pops instantly into ones head, it is just the major difference.
USA, that is 300 million people; most live in the cities. I don’t know comparing them to any European country is kind of disingenuous. If you would see the EU as federal state, (which was the average conservative populist points for years now) Britain for example would have fucked off. I mean a European can feel the schism in the average US citizen and how they eat each other online, which spills onto the street and arming your population when milk turns sour, mhmm…..Nobody was equipped for the fast pace change in culture, but generally men and women, scam artist of virtue were out to exploit it. The other side of the scale: Dark web, the layer beneath it; all the little communities that you can’t enter without passwords. Things are not oberserveable, and the fight against crime translates one to one onto a virtual world that is filled with mainly white noise. That is new weak point in any modern democracy. If you can warp the information and trick people into believing something to be true, they will argue against straw men and if you were really smart than you would realize from a certain point of view, even the Jedi are evil. The greater good becomes a slogan on a T-Shirt.
Plenty of Achilles heels in a world filled with competing systems. For example one part of the Russian operation to influence the US election 2016 was based on targeted ADs for PC politics. Most of the ads were targeted to black people – at least at the beginning and regarding the ones officially released from facebook. It is a quick google search. Maybe it is just what is forefront in your own life, that is inarguably true? But that is just a realization that needs some self awareness.
The US is theoretically based on a huge fuck you to monarchy and aristocracy; that not one can rule over another, not even by force. Nice principle in theory for the 18th century. But lets be real; virtuous men can be found in any dynasty. If not based on ancestry, money is a pretty telling sign for power. Replace a blood system with the fairer one, but there is always someone that steers the course. It is not the rulers you should be scared off, it is who whispers to them and have them at gun point. Has to be a pretty cool life juggling interest groups. I always ask myself how many young Americans really want to be president?
At least people know who you are. Like Kim Kardashian’s ancient teachings enlighten us: There is no point in Life. There isn’t supposed to be one.
Like in that video game for children. Like in Minecraft. Please don’t make a religion out of it in the future…similarities to life and edgy teenagers often lost in their own irony is not a basis for a believe system.
Speaking of irony: A guy on the plane had a nut allergy and another one, a sneaky fella, choked on peanuts in the airplane toilet. They found him, when I left the plane. I didn’t expect my flight to be more adventures than the actual stay with my great aunt.
I saw a lot of poor people. I basically searched for them. My great aunt showed me around the city. Everywhere people left behind for a few to be happy. We press them out like lemons, and dump them in the next garbage can; and complain about their rotting smell. Sour habits, only meant as a test for something bigger. Stressing the fact, that we are all tubes, observing with a sense and processing whether or not something is valuable or not.
An observation of worth I made, and I want to sum up and spell out for all the stylish girls out there, searching for a break from life. Traveling enlightens you only if you are aware about it and your mind is able to deconstruct the fluff, they sell you on T-Shirts.  Only the flavor of asshole changes. People are truly horrible and if you don’t love that, you will step slowly, blindly ahead. Like in a dark tunnel just feeling for the end, and getting worry about every structure brushed against having the audacity to stand out of the smooth walls. What an ignorant life enjoying only traveling has to be.
“How was the flight?”, my aunt spoke to me. I was sitting on the passenger side.
“Comfortable”, I answered, and over the car laid an awkward silence.
I couldn’t imagine myself taking this first time from me with someone else. How you could burn up all the experiences one just for a guy that invited you on an expensive trip with the intention to fuck you in a hotel room.
When we arrived at her house, at first I couldn’t get out of the surprise. I imagined a good life, but not an expensive one. A pool with a whirlpool attached. A sauna in her cellar. A satellite dish big enough to catch frequencies any obscure underground pirate TV station could broadcast on. A gate with a sharp fence. A fortress surrounded by other mansions. She had all the necessary social lubricate to grease any conversation. I wasn’t jealous, just impressed.
We arrived at her door and she told me to unpack, if I wanted to she suggested she would give me a tour through the labyrinth of her home, but I declined, asked where the bathroom was and proclaimed I would be fine finding my way through her house after some time.
I went under the shower and as I entered it a system of domesticated and subservant water running out of a pipe greeted me, that couldn’t be understood with a manual at hand. So far in life I had learned and knew: right was warm and left was cold, common shower knowledge of the average European male. You press up the handle of the tap or turn it, and tada, running water. Fresh, drinkable and after some fiddling in the temperature you prefer. The temperature scale here was reimagined as one of many squares. C and H were easy to spot above it, in white on metal shine, but hell will I be damned if I didn’t need more time to figure out how to actually get the water running. I was thinking about asking my aunt, about what button starts what.
A shower head tangled close to my face. Above me there were jets to simulate rainfall. In front of me some to fondle my belly. I was just twitiching the buttons. Light showed up on the interface. I feared to have activated the countdown for the rocket silo, but then the music turned on, and when I turned the same square again the other way around, silence descended space between the glas walls. I went up a square in my selection, and water flood into my face. No nuclear holocaust, I was glad when I had the furred up taste of water in my mouth.
Now that my deed to hygiene was done, it was time to experiment. Right beside, I turned the next one. The head choked out and the water flew over my hair.
I close my eyes.
A couple small drops at first. On my head, and it tickled as the hit mytop. It ran though the hair and onto my skull. The water was warm. I felt like I was standing in the warm rain in the middle of the Amazon. The drops turned to rain. And it was perfect. Like heaven sent to cure my of jet lag. I was just standing there
I didn’t want to leave a world full of possibilities, I knew nothing about, behind.
L.A. all in all was nice, but not a single second I had the same time or even coming comparable close to the 20 minutes I spent under this shower.
A week of drinking. Having a good time. Long walks in the warm sun. Meeting people. Even nights out. Getting to know strangers. Being left alone and not overly pulled upon. My aunt kept her distance. I had my time to think and stare into the light polluted sky. It was great.
When I arrived back home uneventful day followed. Nothing felt real. It was like it never happened. Same sleep. Same life. Same routine. One thing kept with me. Not words. Not even memories. I started to loath my shower head. It started to seriously piss me off. I would have loved to chock it out, to rip out of the wall, to pull the whole spin cord worth of shower head apparatus  in a waste chopper; from top to bottom. I bought a new one, but even replacing it seemed not adequate from what I have had and simply lost with this trip. It took my second virginity.  In the US I felt the freedom to stand under whatever clouds you want. Ironically freedom is money, but luckily enough, I had developed a returned lust to chase the dragon.

Cryboy 10# The moon, the plane and a hanging PeePee

1 thought on “Cryboy 9# Rain reminds me of a comedy routine. Things I shouldn’t speak of. From pity to the less pathetic.

  1. Write more, thats all I have to say. Literally, it seems as though you relied on the video to make your point. You obviously know what youre talking about, why waste your intelligence on just posting videos to your blog when you could be giving us something enlightening to read?


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