I Wish I Could Love You, if it Were Only that Easy (Flying to Germany)

I was in my room, right? OK.

Then I just knew she was going to be coming around soon, because of last night. Fuck.

Bam! Motherfucker. Bam! On the goddam window of my fuckin' room.

"Hello?" As if she was just looking for someone casually—my ass was looking for someone casually. My ass.

I kept quiet—please go away. Please go away. Please go away. I closed my eyes. Please go away.

"I know you're in there, Danny!"

I laughed to myself and ran my hands through my hair and face and neck—fuck it.

"HOLD ON," I opened the door that led to the outside from my dark, wooden colored, cubby hole room with the silver fan buzzing above me, "Hey. Hey, how's it going? Come in. Do you want to come in?"

"No. No. I don't think I want to come in," chagrined. She just fucking stood there looking down with her goddam arms crossed, and she was like wearing those kind of fucking ballerina slippers or whatever the fuck girls wear sometimes when they're too lazy to wear real shoes.

"OK. No problem," I went outside and closed the door behind me. I walked over to a bench and sat the fuck down. And then I fucked up. I sighed a little too loudly.

Bam! She spun around and, "What? You want me to leave? Look at me. You want me to leave? Just tell me to leave and that you never want to see me again."

I wasn't gonna go into all that.

She waited, and then, "Why don't you love me? I'm pretty, I'm smart. Why don't you love me?"

And for some weird reason I had a quick and honest response to that, which wasn't really an answer, "Why don't you love that one guy you told me loves you? He's always bugging you. He really fucking loves you. Why don't you love him?"

"Because I love you. Because I love you, dammit! I LOVE YOU!" Oh boy she was crying now, and I looked like a fool. That was a pretty good answer. She continued, "So, what? You love someone else?"

I had a quick answer for that too, "No, actually. I don't love anyone. I used to love this one chick—"

"I don't wanna hear about who you used to love, you fucking asshole!"

"I'm sorry," stupidly. I looked down at the ground like a little boy that is in trouble. And you know what? To be honest, I might have fucked up. You see, when two people fuck, and there's no construct as to where it might lead, you would think that neither should be at fault if the other gets hurt for unrequited feelings of attachment. And I'm thinking that in most cases that's probably true. Buuuuuttttt, if one of the people knows that the other person is pretty much in love with the other person, and STILL makes love to that person, without having any feelings for that person, that person should be at fault. You shouldn't fuck someone that loves you and that you don't love when you know the other person loves you. That's fucked up. That's leading someone on or using someone...

But! Here's how you get away with it...

If a person loves you and wants to fuck you and you also want to fuck that person too but you don't love that person (and you know that person loves you), all you have to do is this: Tell that person, "Hey, I know you love me. I know you love me. It's OK. I'm going to be honest with you. I don't love you at all. But listen, I want to fuck you. So, if you want to fuck, let's just fuck. It's up to you."

Bam! And you know what? I think I did that with this girl! But they'll get all fucked up about it anyway: boy or girl.

"Don't call me. I never want to see you again. Goodbye, Danny," she walked away, as I stared at her ass, thinking Damn, I wish I could fuck her right now.

That doesn't make me an asshole, I thought to myself. I just want to fuck a girl... that girl. Well, whatever.

She was turning the corner of my house and was about to be out of sight when I whispered, barely out of her hearing range: "I wish I could love you... if it were only that easy." And then I thought about all the girls that didn't love me when I loved them. What a sad and fallen world Lord. I can't wait to be with you Jesus, where hearts don't break anymore. I love you Jesus, at least, I thought.

I went back into my stupid, dark, wooden colored cubby of a room, and my cell phone rang.

I answered to a girl saying seductively, "Surprise!"

"OK. Hey! How have you been? You're calling all the way from Germany right now?"

"Yes. And I have another surprise for you," she done says to me.

"Well out with it girl. Don't make me wait. People that make me wait end up being sorry, you know that?"

"You stupid silly. I bought you a plane ticket to Germany, and I just emailed it to you, and you're coming on holiday with me. We're gonna travel all of Eastern Europe!"

"Well... Eastern Europe sounds... exotic? Ha ha!"

"Oh shut up stupid silly. I'm going to show you beautiful Eastern Europe. Don't say no. People that say no to me end up being sorry, I hope you know this."

"Ha ha, well I'm not going to say no to a fucking Nazi. Of course I'm coming. I'll check the dates on my ticket, and you better fucking be there to pick me up."

"Don't call me a Nazi you fucker. YES. I will be there. This call is costing me too much. Goodbye for now. Ciao."

"Bye, baby," and we both hung up.

(A PICTURE OF BEAUTIFUL EASTERN EUROPE, OR SO THE INTERNET TELLS ME)

Whisking Away the Day

I walked past (is it passed or past?) a mirror. I stopped, walked backwards, and stopped in front of the mirror. I made an about face to the right and stared at my reflection; I scrutinized my face.

I wonder what is good enough, I thought to myself, as I made weird faces and pulled my face this way and that way with my crazy hands, hmmm.

I looked down at my clothes, fuck this. I went back to my room and changed into a more forced ensemble.

I walked back to the mirror and globbed a grip of pomade into my hair until I styled it quite right, and then I stuck my glasses back on—my Johnny Depp/John Lennon/try-really-hard-to-look-cool-with-glasses-on spectacles.

I walked out into New York. I looked up into the sky and got depressed, as usual. I was going to the movies by myself to watch the new Brad Bird film; it was produced by Steven Soderbergh; I was excited, and I felt that I looked pretty damned good (as good as I could look I supposed).

As I was looking up at the sky, a wonderful fucking girl bumped into me really hard, "Ah, fuck!" I almost fell over.

"Oh! Watch it!"

"Huh?"

A guy that was with her pushed me further, and I had to prop myself up with a hand before going all the way down. I got that shitty feeling of my heart sinking to my gut; I didn't know if this guy was going to go all the way and try to beat me up.

And so says he to me, "Watch it you fucking asshole. You want me to kick your ass right here? Apologize."

Holy shit, are these people on drugs? I thought to myself. Fuck it. Here we go again, I thought. He was advancing on me, as I had staggered a little back. I quickly took my specs off and thrust them into the inside of my coat.

"OK, let's do this you motherfucker," seriously and sick I invited, and right when he got close enough, I shoved him hard and kicked one of his feet behind the other so that he tripped and fell to the ground. I took my jacket off and threw it around somewhere out of the way.

"Hey Danny, what's going on?" A buddy was around and wanted to help me out.

"Ah nothing. This guy wants to fight, so now I'm fucking stuck here having to deal with this bullshit," I stared at the guy getting up, as he was staring at me, "I don't give a fuck man. What the fuck do you want?"

The lovely couple stepped into the fray and disappeared.

"Hey Johnny."

"Hey man what you up to? Where you headed?"

"Gonna go see the new Brad Bird movie. What's up with you?"

"Gonna go see my girlfriend. Hit me up. I'm always game for a fight! Ha ha!" He strolled and rolled away, also into the fray.

I picked my coat up and threw it on. It was windy; it was gray; it was lovely; it was cold; it was what I loved. My heart rate began to ease up.

I went to get some coffee to get fucked up before the movie. As I walked into the shop, I noticed people making a fucking circle around a crazy man wielding a knife at the cashier. Without thinking, I made my way through the crowd, as I heard the bastard yelling, "Fuck you! You owe me $100!" He was grabbing the confused cashier (barista supposedly) by the collar.  I briskly walked up behind him and jammed my right foot behind his knee, as I punched the back of his head (you know, right where the visual cortex is) blinding him. He fell back smoothly and easily.  When he hit the floor I crushed his ribs. He was a fucking mess. I looked around and saw the cops coming in, so I stepped into the fray, made my way to the back, stole a hot looking coffee on a table, and hit the streets unnoticed by the cops.

I sucked the coffee down and knew my heart rate wouldn't go down for a while.

Her name was Sarah, and I saw her from afar off. I looked up at the sky and got depressed. I made my way through the maze of gray and colorful souls quickly until I reached her, "Sarah!"

She turned around, "Hey Danny!"

"Hey what are you up to?"

"Oh! Nothing!"

"Well fuck. Wanna go to a movie?"

"This early?"

"No. Yes. Yes this early."

She pulled out a little mirror. She clicked it open and looked at herself, "Gosh, I don't know how I look today."

"Can I see that?" I grabbed the mirror and looked into myself and looked at myself, "Ya. Hey I'll see ya later."

"OK. Bye Danny."

I briskly whisked off to watch my movie. As I walked passed an alleyway, I heard a strange sound—strange music. I walked backwards, until I was in front of the alleyway. I walked into the alley. I found the door where the music was coming from. I opened it. A warm light emanated from a warm room. I walked in. There were about thirty people dancing to the strange music coming from an old record player with excellent speakers. I took my jacket off, hung it up somewhere, loosened up, and began to dance, eyes closed.

Someone sweet smelling came up behind me and ran their hands through my fucking crazy hair. I danced. The person laid their head on my back shoulders and just straight hugged me from behind as we swayed.

Oh we just fucking swayed to the fucking music, and we must have had been there for years for all we knew. I grabbed her girl hands and spun her around millions of times and then we swayed to the music as we faced each other.

I whisked her away and around, and she let me whisk her around and away.

We went outside, "Come to my place," she grabbed my hand and off we went. We arrived. She threw her fucking shoes around, and I did the same, and then she threw herself onto her cool bed. I climbed and climbed until I was next to her. It was a great, grand studio.

We were both quite falling asleep, but before I totally fell asleep I peaked out the great windows at the moon. And the moon winked at me with a menacingly happy and peaceful countenance.

Ah you weird fucking moon, I was slipping away. And I fell asleep right fucking there next to a stranger woman with sweet breath.

When I Was the King

The world had flooded over because of a giant meteor that had struck our special planet––the only planet with life!

The water and the earthquakes and the volcanoes and a bunch of other shit had pushed my father's house on top of a mountain––rather a mountain had arisen under our house, and our house was the highest on earth.

All had been flooded, and all the poor people had died, and all the rich people became poor people; our family was the only one that had good soil for food, so we became kings, queens, princes, and princesses!

I was King Danny!

If that weren't fortunate enough for us, all the guns and bullets in the world had accidentally landed in our backyard.  We put up fences and stone walls (because our dad had been a carpenter before the great flood), so that people wouldn't take what we had.  Of course we had compassion!  We didn't let anyone go hungry, if we could help it, but you see sometimes helping everyone isn't feasible.

Sometimes we would see old friends or family, and we would let them come live with us––as long as they pulled their own weight around the five hundred acres we had.

A day came, when I snapped out of my one hundred year depression.  I saw the most wonderfully beautiful creature down below with all the poor people.

Down there with all the poor people, there was always fighting, and they all lived like animals––because they didn't have resources like we did.

She would certainly be ravished soon.  How had she not been ravished yet!?  Maybe she had been.  I stood at the top of one of the tallest, strongest walls.  I looked down at her, and I marveled at her.  It was as though I was the one looking up at her!  I fell in love.

I jumped.  Down I tumbled.  All the way down with the poorest of the poor I was.  I took her in my arms, and I said, "Who are you?"

"I'm Mary."

"Who's are you, Mary?  Are you married?"

"Yes.  My husband's name is William."

"Where is he!?"

"Here I am!  What do you want?  You want to steal my beautiful wife!?"

"No.  If she was single, I would beg her to be with me, but as I now know that she is with you, I want to tell you something.  You are the luckiest man I have ever met!"

"Oh!  Good sir, well, thank you.  Thank you, but we're just poor folk, and we need to get on.  You go to your castle."

"You see sir; I am from the castle."

"I know."

"I would invite you to my castle to live forever with us, in comfort, but as you see, I would never be able to live in peace, with young Mary here around me."

"I understand.  Leave us poor people alone."

I stared at Mary, as she walked away.  She stared at me for as long as she could, and then they were gone.

A bunch of white horses rode down the mountain, with warriors sitting atop them, and armed to the goddam teeth.  "Would you like us to kill that man, sir?"

"No," I was resigned to my fate, "Take me up, gentlemen.  How good of you to come down for me."  They took me back up the mountain.

I walked into my castle, people all around asking me what it was like down there and asking me if I was of good health.  I just answered, "Yes. Yes. Yes."  Whenever someone asked me something.  Just like that, "Yes. Yes. Yes," but in no rude way.  I was simply detached.  My heart was down there with the poor, "Yes. Yes. Yes."

I found the darkest room in the castle.  In that darkest room, I found the darkest corner.  It was in that corner that I lay my body down.  I curled up, like a goddam baby.  I fell asleep.

I knew that in my dreams, Mary would be single, and so I would be able to have her.  It was in my dreams that I wanted to live from there on out.