A Case of Supervenience: An Incredible Case of Supervenience

This was INCREDIBLE and could not be made up. FUCK THIS. TRUE STORY.

So, after a ten week bender (I literally got drunk for ten horrible days), I sobered up for an even four days. Four days. OK? Four days.

Still hazy from this bullshit, I had to go back to grad school (I had even missed one week on accident). So after four days of hazy sweaty, cold, nightmare nights of sleep I went back to school, and I was on the brink of feeling better. I spent the whole first day back to school well, but that night was (unsurprisingly) nasty. Still though, I went to "sleep" (AKA hurtful bolking, routing, rucking, eructating, whatever-you-wanna-call-it, weird dreams, not sleeping, endless thinking, weird thoughts, et al.).

AND HERE IT COMES.

The second night, around eight post meridian (PM), I was seriously about to crash and go to sleep sleep. I was so joyful! I literally walked into my car and nearly fell asleep. Let me explain.

After ten days of binging, you don't get much real sleep. And after four days of "sleep" your body starts getting used to the idea of sleep. And then, your body really wants sleep. So, around eight post meridian on the fifth day of my sobriety, and after one day of hardcore philosophical grad school, my mind and body was ready to fucking rest. I mean really fucking ready to rest peacefully.

BUT NO.

I was falling asleep, and responsibly I made myself eat a quick meal. I could hardly keep my eyes open. I was SO happy. I was falling asleep asleep. I parked my car next to the school at that time, which meant that all the kiddies had gone away too, and there was an abundance of parking right next to the school—free parking right in front of the school. Wow. Thank God. I ate. I crawled to the back of my car and fell asleep.

I sleep in my car in Los Angeles when I come up for school three days out of the week for my Master of Philosophy program at Biola University.

I dozed off. I was gone. I had headphones on, with Coldplay whisking me away to sleep. And I went to sleep.

At four ante meridian (AM) or around there... I WAS JOLTED AWAKE BY MY BOWELS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I literally have to put that many exclamation marks to make my fucking point. At four ante meridian I was forced straight up from my sleeping position into a sitting position.

I held my gut so HARD.

OH SHIT... LITERALLY.

I fucking grabbed my gut and made my way to the driver's seat. Nope. This SHIT was literally going to SPILL out of me that instant. I jumped out of the car holding my gut.

What could I do? I looked across the street? Could I take a fucking shit in the bushes across the street? Could I even make it that far? This SHIT was coming fast and furious and out of nowhere.

No.

I couldn't make it across the goddam street.

I leaned on my car and groaned. HOLY FUCK. Was this really happening to me at four ante meridian??? It was fucking still dark out. I groaned. It was happening. Either I was going to shit myself on the spot, or I was going to run to a nearby bush (stuck to the school) and shit behind it.

I hobbled like a fucking Hobbit behind the bush next to the building of the school. I found a strange square contraption next to the bush. I squatted. I pulled my fucking PJs down to my ankles and took a crazy shit right there on the school's property. I could literally hear the security guards making their rounds around the building. Can you believe this? This is a true story that happened to me on February 19th of the Lord's year 2013.

I squatted like a bum behind a bush and took a full shit. There was no thinking about: where is the toilet paper? who is looking? what do I do after the shit? how do I go on as a real human after this? what is normal and OK to do as far as being a respectful human? None of that could matter, when SHIT was splurting and splashing and exploding out of my fucking ass without asking me if I could wait to find a proper venue!!!  There it was. A big fucking messy, shitty (literally do I have to say), wobbly, holy hell, fuckup, nasty, brown, black, nasty mess of a wet mess of shit was beneath me.

It was an incredible case of supervenience (look it up).

I was so incredibly relieved. I mean, when you have to take a shit, I guess you just have to. And I took it–right there and then I had to.

And now... there I was with a weird mess of shit to deal with and a dirty asshole (as if assholes aren't dirty enough already).

What do you do? Ivan? Ismael? Josh? Daniel? George? Sam? Priscilla? What do you do?

Phew, it was a relief though. I stood straight up (all 5'4'' of me) with my pants down and looked at the splashy mess. And then...

OH SHIT, I thought. I can't just leave my asshole unclean and a pile of shit at my school's bush! So, I took off my pants off, grabbed my underwear and wiped my ass real hard (only once), and then I grabbed all of my real shit on the ground (as much as I could) with my wiped-ass underwear, and then I was left with a ball of underwear shit and a half cleaned ass.

I was left with a ball of underwear with shit in it, and my ass was half (or less) cleaned. Every time you wipe your ass, you check it at least several times. This time I could only wipe my ass once and be done with it! I pulled my pants back up and clenched my ass, until I knew what I would do next (you know, so that I wouldn't get ass-shit on my PJs).

After a couple cars drove by, and after I could hear the guards weren't around, I ran to my car with shit in my hand and threw it behind one of the wheels of my car. What else could I do? This is no joke!!!

And then I breathed a sigh of relief.

It was all over. I didn't have to shit anymore! It was over! I was human again! I didn't have to grab my gut out of nowhere and wonder where I was going to take an immediate shit anymore! I felt amazing...

BUT...

There was still a ball of underwear with a bunch of shit in it behind my wheel, my asshole was still only half cleaned, it was still around four ante meridian, and there was still some shit left behind the bush next to my school's building.

I took a deep breath. I smelled my hands hard to see if there were any specks of shit on them (as far as I could tell [and after being in such a bad spell of being hungover and curing myself] there was no shit on my hands). I jumped into my car. HAH! I put on some clean underwear, and I thought to myself...

"Well, it's supposed to rain today. Maybe the rain will wash the rest of my shit away from the bush."

And there I sat and tried to sleep again in the ante meridian, with a half cleaned ass in clean underwear and questionable PJs.

THIS REALLY HAPPENED. IT HAD NEVER HAPPENED TO ME BEFORE, AND NOW I AM MORE UNDERSTANDING OF "BUMS" WHO PERHAPS HAVE TO GO THROUGH SIMILAR THINGS ON A REGULAR BASIS.

All of this was quite amazing.

I hope it rains today.

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.

The Desire to Believe

All arguments for and against the existence of god aside, it is interesting that some people want to believe in the existence of a god, and that others want to believe that god does not exist.  It is obvious why people would want a god to exist: heaven, love, everlasting life, cool shit, the fact that there's a god out there is a pretty awesome idea.  How epic would it be to encounter a Galactus type character?  Very epic!  The desire/want to believe that god exists makes sense to me.  It is akin to wanting something cool to exist: I wish unicorns existed!  How much fun would it be to ride those motherfuckers around the sky?  I guess if they did exist though, we wouldn't be so impressed by them.  Look at whales and sharks and the universe!  They are insane!  They actually exist, yet we are hardly impressed by them!  How sad that we are so apathetic about all of creation; it's all so monotonous to us, despite how incredible and relentlessly unbelievable and staggering it all is.  Why would anyone want god to not exist?  I am only referring to people that--despite arguments for or against the existence of god--hate the idea of god existing.  Perhaps they do not want hell to exist, and so they don't want to believe in god; there are ideas of god that don't entail an everlasting hell, though, and yet these people would rather god did not exist.  I don't understand this aversion to the belief in god.  It seems like a more beautiful thing to at least want to believe in a good god; it is a more good thing for everyone; for although some people that don't believe in god claim love and goodness are objective things that come through evolution, those things are nonetheless relative and arbitrary--ultimately meaningless.  God provides a solid, real, non-arbitrary foundation for such things: goodness, love, etc.  To want to believe that god does not exist is FUCKING absurd, if you ask me.  It makes much more sense to at least want to believe that god exists.  Who wouldn't want to believe in the best possible reality, where there is a heaven, perfect justice, goodness, and meaning?  Apparently, there are some people that wouldn't want to.  I remember a fellow student once said, "If there is a god, I'd rather go to hell than to heaven."  Why people would rather believe in a meaningless universe and a meaningless life is a question psychologists can probably answer.  I do understand people not wanting to believe that god exists, because of different arguments, though; I can see them being agnostic on the issue.  It seems to me that atheism is dead, though.

I hear/read statements such as this one often: "We don't need god to answer or explain how the universe and life began to exist."  I don't know how anyone can know that for certain (just because you arrived at cool answers about the nature of the universe and life does not mean you arrived at those answers sans god).  In any case, people take such statements and really run with them!  People take that statement, and with it take it to mean that god does not exist, or that we don't need to believe in god, or that there are no good reasons to believe in god, or that we don't need to further argue the case for or against god.  That statement is not an argument for atheism.  I don't need my mother to explain how milk got into the refrigerator.  There are many ways in which the milk could have gotten there.  Sometimes it is not about what answer is needed.  Sometimes it's about which answer is the best answer or which answer is the most logical or which answer has the most evidence to support it.  You can just as well say, "We don't need the sciences to answer or explain how the universe and life began to exist."  Those kinds of statements don't really get us anywhere.

Of Mary and Abigail... and Me

It was the year 1800 (a brand new fucking century), and I was feeling good!  Part of it was that I had been drinking moonshine.  I was now twenty two years old, and I felt like a fucking man!  Luckily, I had been born into a semi-well-to-do family; I had the freedom to go to school.  I was going to finish law school and then figure shit out.  As for now, I thought it was a good time to find a wife!

This fucking farmer down the way had the most beautiful daughter in the world.  I hadn't seen her in a couple of years, but she had to be at least sixteen by now.  Her parents were very wealthy too, selling a bunch of produce and shit.  I think they'd like me.

I jumped on my horse Jumper and rode a couple laps around our property.  I loved the wind in my face, and I spread my arms out and acted as if I was flying.

"Fuck me!  I'm flying, mama!  I'm really flying, mama!"  I was feeling like I was on top of the world.  I wasn't sure why.  Oh ay, partly because of my swigging, but it was something else as well.  It was a prevailing mood in the air.  Things were going to be ok.  "I'm an American, mama!  I'm flying!"  I was yelling and being happy and silly and stupid.

I tied up the horse and went into my room in our big fucking cabin.  My whole fucking room was papered with drawings my brother had given to me.  I especially liked the ones of beautiful girls with big asses, small waists, big breasts, and long legs.  The whole fucking room was covered in drawings.

I got into bed and hoped to fall asleep quickly.

My brothers knocked and came into my room.

"What's up Merchant.  What's up Doctor."

"What's up Dan," both of them helloed me at the same time.

"Well, I'm in love.  Can you believe it?"

"I saved some crazy bastard today.  His arm was half off.  This guy was yelling his head off.  I thought he'd pass out, but he just stayed awake the whole time.  It was fucking crazy.  I had to snap his bone off, and he was like 'Ouch!'"  Doctor grabbed his own arm and did an impression of the guy, "Ouch!  And then I had to stop the bleeding.  Poor guy only has one arm now, but at least he's alive--I guess."

"Hey, if you're going to the city tomorrow, can you pick up some paint?"  Merchant was the artist.

"Ya, man.  That shit's crazy Doctor.  Did he yell the whole fucking time?"

"Ya, man.  When I was fixing his fucking arm, I thought I was going to choke him instead and just put him out!"

"He probably wanted his arm, huh?  Which arm was it?  Was he left or right handed?"

"He was right handed and he lost his right arm, so now he can't jack off, Merchant.  He was yelling the whole time 'Ah shit!  I won't be able to jack off any more!'  And he kept slapping his knee with his left hand," Doctor slapped his knee mimicking what his patient looked like.  He made a face like saying "Oh darn, I lost my right arm."  He continued, "Actually, that's why he was screaming, because he wasn't going to be able to jack off any more."

"Fuuuuck.  Well he can just get good at jacking off with his left hand.  Ha ha!  His left hand and arm are going to be all weak trying to jack off, he's gonna get all tired, and he's not going to be able to finish!  And fuck, imagine that?  Like he's not going to be able to grab his dick all hard with two hands when he's jizzing out--just one fuckin' weak left hand, squeezing all hard.  And then when he's grabbing some girl's ass he's gonna have to keep switching from the right butt cheek to the left butt cheek with one hand!"  He began mimicking a one armed man switching grabbing a girl's ass and making sex noises.  Merchant was on a roll.

"Ha ha!  If someone fucks him in the first place--fucking the one armed man.  At least girl's can see that shit right away!  It's not like he'll be flirting with some bitch, and he'll have to be all like, 'hey I have to tell you... I only have one arm.'"  This could have gone all night.

"So you're gonna see that girl tomorrow?"  Doc asked.

"Ya man.  I'm gonna go see her father or whatever the fuck, and then I'm gonna talk to her and see what the fuck.  I'm fully one hundred percent in love, and I'm ready to settle down."

"Who's the lucky lady?"  Merchant asked.

"Abigail Kent, from the town over."

"Oh nice!  That bitch sixteen now, I think."  Merchant and I liked the young ones.

"Shit.  I thought you liked that Mary girl.  Mary Green, was it?  She's probably better.  I think she's twenty four.  You should go for her, man."  Doctor was guided by prudence.

"Ya!  I like her too.  Maybe I'll try to see both of them tomorrow."

"How's your new song coming out?"

"Which one?  The one called 'Abigail Kent' or the one called 'Creep?'"

"I don't know."

"Ah, well they're both coming out fine.  'Creep' is about Mary.  I'm thinking of calling it 'Mary Green,' but they're both pretty much done."

"Alright, well I'm going to sleep now."

"Me too.  Goodnight, Dan."

"Goodnight, Doctor.  Goodnight, Merchant."

They went out, and they closed the door behind them.

It was a cold and bitter fucking night that night, but tomorrow I would call on the beautiful young ladies.  I was in love after all.  I slept like a fucking darling and had five strange, wild dreams...

I walked through a dense forest.  Only the path right in front of me was alighted.  I followed the path.  I came across a jungle cat, probably a panther.  Hello I said to her.  Hello she said back to me.  Come run your hand across my back.  Feel my smooth black body, and make me feel good.  I obliged.  We rolled around in the middle of a clearing of this strange and dark forest.  Say goodbye to me, she said.  I bid her farewell, and she told me she was happy.  What a strange cat, I thought to myself, what a beautiful panther woman.

And then I was on top of a huge fucking mountain, and the wind was threatening to push me off the precipice.  And the wind spoke to me.  Hello Daniel, it said to me.  I responded, why are you trying to push me off this cliff Mighty Wind?  I yelled, Mighty Wind!  Be kind, Mighty Wind!  I cannot fight you!  I cannot even see you!  The wind replied, you better watch your step Daniel.  You better watch your fucking step.  Get off my mountain, Daniel.  With new braveness, I bellowed, this is MY mountain Mighty Wind!  Push me off, if you must!  I admire your foolish braveness Daniel.  Peace be with you... for now.

I was standing in the middle of a black, hard surface.  There were yellow and white lines running across the middle and sides of this strange hard surface.  I got down on my knees and smelled the surface, and it smelled sweet.  I heard the roaring of a hundred lions, and I stood up, but there were no lions to be found.  Far away, I saw two bright eyes racing toward me; I couldn't move.  The lights became angry lamps of fire.  I felt a deep fear, for I knew these lamps wanted to kill me.  I tried to move faster than I was, but I couldn't.  I tried to move, but I couldn't.  The racing lamps stopped in front of me, but its circular feet screeched, as if they had their own voices.  I walked around this metallic animal.  It roared and scared the shit out of me, and then it ran away.


A turtle shuffled slowly to the shore.  I think I was the turtle, but I couldn't be sure.  The ocean looked big.  The ocean looked blue as all hell.  As I entered the ocean, the salty salts of the salty ocean were awash in my maw; I dove deep.  Everything went black, but I felt safe.

Three hundred stars crashed down to Earth, but as they neared Earth they got smaller and smaller, until they became three hundred little stars that landed safely and peacefully on Earth.  I walked to the center of all the little stars.  They were the sizes of different sized humans.  They all gathered around me.  "You're a star, like us!"  They all fucking yelled loudly.  It was quite a fucking chant.  "You're a star like us!"  They shrunk even more until they were the sizes of different star fish.  Now, their chants sounded smaller and not so harsh.  They all jumped and attached themselves to me, one by one, until I was all fucking covered by star fish!  It was fucking scary, man!  I tried walking, but it was a laborious task.  They started making me float with their star powers.  Slowly, I was going into the atmosphere, and it seemed I was headed to outer space!  I started to panic and wriggle wildly.  "Don't fight it," one of the stars lashed evilly with his tongue into my ear, "You're a star, like us now.  Don't fucking fight it.  We're taking you home!"  No!  I yelled, "No!  No!  No!"  I began to not be able to breath!  And then they let me go, and I began falling back to Earth.  "You're one of us!"  They screeched as they slowly became bigger and bigger and traveled farther and farther away from Earth and back to where they came from.

When I woke up, I just wanted to be in the arms of the women I loved.  Motherfuck, I had a headache.  I went to the kitchen, found some semi-non-stale milk and chugged it, and then I went back to sleep.  When I woke up again, I felt much better.

I went out to the river, and bathed, and got dressed in my finest clothes.  I snuck (did you know snuck is not a word?  Maybe it is now, though?)... I sneaked into Doctor's chambers and used a whole grip of his pomade; I slicked my hair back, and I was ready to go.

I grabbed my great, grand, giant overcoat, jumped on my steed, and made my way over to ask for Miss Kent's hand in marriage.  I was sure her father would be impressed, for fuck's sake!

KNOCK!  KNOCK!  KNOCK, on the Kent's door.  I straightened my shit out.  "Who is it!" Came from inside.

Fuck me, "Uh..." I had to yell, because the call came from deep inside the house, "It's Danny from down the way!  It's Danny Castro!"  Fuck me.

"Uh huh!  Come back later!  It's too early!"  Gruff ass fucking voice.  Fuck me.  Fuck this.  I'm going home and never trying this shit again.  I'll just wait 'till some fucking bitch likes me, and I'll settle for that.  Shivers ran down my spine.  What the fuck was I thinking putting myself in a position to be rejected.  Fuck me.

I decided to hit the town.  It was a festive time of year, so I thought I'd enjoy some sweet bread or whatever the fuck they had to eat in the year 1800.  The clouds were still low, and the briskness of everything felt fucking great.  I ran my hands through my hair to smooth the shit out of it and keep it slicked back.

There were fancy decorations all over our small goddamn downtown.  It was sweet, and it made me feel all romantic and shit.  I saw a pharmacy that was open.  All the morning people were walking around and being all morning style and shit.

The ding of a bell dinged, as I walked into the pharmacy, announcing an arrival.

"Good morning, Danny!"

"Schaffer, good morning.  What's going on?  Mike and Elijah working this morning?"  Those motherfuckers were my age, and Schaffer was their dad.

"Oh, no no no no no no.  They're asleep upstairs still."

"Well, that's great.  Hey, do you have something to make me feel better?  I feel ok, but I think I might have a hangover... shit, for that matter, do you have anything to make me a little more confident?  I was going to ask for Abigail Kent's hand in marriage from her father this morning, but I bitched out!"

"Ha ha!  What happened?  She's sixteen now I think too."

"Oh the motherfucker didn't even answer the door.  He said to come back later because it was too early."

"Ha ha!  And that scared you off, huh?"

"Well, after knocking I realized what the fuck I was getting myself into, and then I started thinking that maybe she wouldn't even want to marry me.  I thought fuck it all.  This shit is embarrassing.  You know what I mean?"

"Oh!  I sure do, Danny."

"Ya, well who knows."

"But, how old are you?"

"I'm like twenty two or something.  I don't remember.  Somewhere 'round them parts."

"Well, what the fuck you worried about then?  Of course she'll want you.  And her father is just a serious man.  Of course he'll give you his blessing."

"Scary shit man.  Who even wants to get married anyway.  I'll just live in sin with all the slutty girls."

"Well, do whatever you want, but yes I do have some shit that will both take your hangover away and give you more confidence.  You should have confidence already with that mane of yours, though!"

"Oh shut the hell up, Schaffer.  Whatchu got?"

"Here," he reached under or some shit and pulled out a flask, "go out to the park down the way, drink half of this, take a nap, and when you wake up drink the other half.  You'll feel great, and you'll feel like you're a fucking king!  You'll go right up to the Kent home, you'll knock the goddamn door down, and you'll hoist little miss Kent over your shoulder, and ride into the sunset to fuck her!"

"Ha ha!  Ok!  What is this shit anyway?"

"Oh just some shit I got from down the way."

"Great!  Well, tell the guys I say hello, when they wake up."

"I'll drop by your place in a week or so, and you can pay me then.  See ya Danny."

"Thanks Schaffer.  See ya."

I walked over to the park.  A couple people were feeding the ducks at the pond.  I found a secluded area.  The air was brisk still, but it wasn't as cold.  It was a slightly windy and cool beautiful day.  I sat my ass down, and chugged half of the flask.  I coughed hard.  Did this motherfucker just give me a flask of whiskey?  Oh fuck it.  With my hands behind my head, I laid back and looked at the gray sky.  I started thinking great and fun things.  My eyes began to close on their own.  They closed all the way, and the wonderful thoughts kept flooding my mind.  I didn't really dream.  Instead, I kind of just thought great and happy fun things, but I wasn't quite awake awake.  It was strange but beautiful.

I put my arm around someone, as I continued my non-sleep sleep.  She put her arms around me and kissed my neck.  I lowered my face and kissed her lips.  This non-sleep was better than real sleep.  My thoughts carried me to faraway lands, where rivers and lakes were made of crystal clear waters and diamonds.  I rode through mountain passages and tunnels on a silver horse that had jet black hair and blue and green eyes.  I rode fast, and the woman held onto me.  I had philosophical conversations with lions and tigers over tea.  I led armies to victories against demons.  A band named Coldplay played epic and beautiful music, all the while.  And finally, I sat on a throne made of the swords of forefathers.




I felt incredibly relaxed, and reenergized, and at peace.  My eyes were still closed, but now I was awake.  I didn't move.  Something was wrong.

My mind raced...

Holy shit.  I kept my eyes closed.  I'm really holding someone.  What the fuck!?  Oh shit.  What do I do?  I can't open my eyes.  This is fucked up!  MotherFUCK me!

The person kissed my neck again.  I'm fucking dead.  I'm going to fucking kill Schaffer.  I am going to kill Schaffer.  Someone is fucking with me.  Motherfuckers.  The person kissed me again.  This bitch BETTER fucking be a woman!

The person's head was resting near my neck and chest, so I slightly peeked through eyelid slits at the top of the person's head, without moving my own head.  I closed my eyes again.

I had gotten a look at some skin--maybe an arm.  It was dark skin.  The hair was long.  I was pretty sure it was a woman.  Something was familiar about her.  FUCK IT.

I pounced off of it and then got on top and pinned its arms down.  MARY!

"Mary!  What the fuck!  You scared the shit out of me!"  I was still on top of her.

She contemplated me with critical eyes and then BAM!  As fast as lightning, she kissed me hard on the lips!

I let her go and threw myself back.  She sat up and sat Indian style, giggling and gazing at me, "Do I scare you?"

I sat down.  I searched for the bottle.  I found it.  I finished it off.  "No... I just didn't know... what the fuck are you doing hugging me, while I'm sleeping?"

"Oh you looked so adorable and alone!  I couldn't help myself."  She smiled fiercely, and brilliantly, and brightly, "it was nice, wasn't it?"  She teased me, and my heart was telling me to love her forever.

"Were you kissing me!?"

"Maybe," she giggled, "were you kissing me?"

"Shit I don't know.  I was asleep!"

"Well, maybe you were," she smiled, and I felt like a king.

"Well... hey... it's good to see you... but... I was on my way to ask for Abigail Kent's hand in marriage today--"

"Oh!"  She cut me off, and then she covered her mouth with both her hands to stifle the laughter.

I looked at her, seriously and confused.  And then I caught her take the slightest of glances above me and to my left.  Still laughing mutely, Mary looked straight down.  My eyes went wide.  Oh shit.

ABIGAIL!  I stood up and turned around.  There she was.  Her eyes were as opened wide as mine were.  She blushed as all hell.  She turned around and walked as fast as she could, without running, away from us.  I turned hard to face Mary Green.

She was wearing a slight, sad smile on her beautiful face now, "Well, go after her..." with downcast eyes.

What a strange creature.  I gave her a puzzled look.  I turned and slowly walked in the direction Abigail had gone.

I finally saw her far off and a little past the downtown area.  I sped up.  I felt like a king.  I walked past Schaffer's store; Schaffer and his sons saw me walk by; I waved and they gave me thumbs up.

I caught up to her, "Abigail?"  I don't know why it was a fucking question.  She kept walking and looked away from me, "are you crying?  Abigail?"  I grabbed her hand, "Abigail?"  She pulled her hand away and stopped.  We were in the middle of a field; she was on her way home.  She was crying and sobbing and weeping and who knows what the hell else.  "Abigail?  Why are you crying?"

Finally, she looked at me.  Boy she was beautiful, and I felt like a fucking king!  She grabbed both of my hands, "do you really want to marry me?  Do you love me?"

"Yes!  I was going to talk to your father this morning, but he told me to come back later, so I took a nap in the park.  Do you love me back?"

"Yes!"  She hugged me like crazy, throwing her arms around my neck and crying into my neck.

"Listen.  Go home, and I will come up and talk to your father."  She was crying happily, "I love you." I felt like a goddamn king.

"Ok!"  She held onto me and looked me in the fucking eyes, "I love you," and she gave me a perfect kiss on the cheek.  She ran off in her 1800s dress, homeward bound.

Fuck me.  Wow.  Everything is going perfectly.  Fucking Schaffer.  I owe that motherfucker.  I stood paralyzed in that said field.  Oh shit!... Mary!  What the fuck was all that about?  I ran back to the park; I had left my steed there anyway.

There she was.  Mary was caressing my horse.  She looked perfect in the perfect light that filtered through the perfect, leafy, Green arbor.  I stood afar, delighting in her beauty, and then she saw me.  She smiled and then went back to petting the stallion.  I slowly made my way next to her, and it felt incredible.  I felt like I was on fire, in a good way.  I was completely aflame.

"How did it go?" She asked in a hushed, subdued voice, not looking at me.  She continued caressing.  Her face was serious and almost sad.

I didn't say shit.  I laced my fingers through her dark fingers.  I admired our interwoven hands.  I leaned my head on my horse's head and put my arm around his neck, still holding Mary's hand.

The Green Eyed Bum Woman and the Beautiful Bug

Well, we made a bunch of love, but good thing we never made any babies.

I loved her, and she loved me, and one time we were in the throes of love and passion.  She kissed my whole face, and I held her like we were dying, which we were.  The whole world shook, and we shook the whole world.  We ate until we were full.

Naked and happy we laid, my dick flaccid and her breasts askew.

She got up and flew to take a shower.  I turned over and looked out the open doors and past the veranda.  Fez, Morocco was beautiful tonight.  The sky was deep purples and blues.  The clouds were slight and made of benign shapes and SILVER.

An evil wind blew the curtains around the whole fucking bedchamber.

I saw a deceptively diminutive bug riding that awesome wind, and slowly it made its way toward me. Slowly it made its way into my mouth and down my throat and into mine gut, me being paralyzed by its awesome colors shining into mine eyes; the moon was powerfully scintillating that night, and it had thrown the bug's awesome colors all over the goddamn room.  The room was now painted in awesome, bright and beautiful, deep, pastel colors!

The bug deliquesced in the acid of my gut, and it made its way throughout my blood vessels.

When the sweet woman came out of the shower, smelling sweetly, she found me coughing and blue of skin.  We had only been married for ten years at that point.

Five years of coughing later, she finally said to me, "I just can't do this any more.  You've been coughing for five years now!  You cough in your fucking sleep!  You cough while you eat!  I know it's not your fault, but it's driving me mad!  I'm so sorry!  I AM GOING INSANE!  I'm only 35 years old!  I'm so sorry, but I can't do this any more."

I coughed, "I don't blame you."  I coughed.

"I love you.  Take care of yourself.  Goodbye."

I coughed, "I love you too.  Goodbye."  I coughed.

She finally left me.  Well of course she would leave me.  I had been coughing for five years straight now!  It could have driven me insane.  It could have, certainly.

I crept into some alleyway, and a nice, beautiful, orphan woman took care of me, until I coughed no more.

I remembered my patient and loving ex.  I didn't hold it against her... my ex leaving me.  I thanked the beautiful, green-eyed, orphan woman.

I went on my way.  I would see her again, under different circumstances.

I sang.

Pugilistic

I had been blacked out until just now.  I don't even remember the music I had come out to.  I think it was probably the Batman Begins theme song by Hans Zimmer.  Anyway, I became un-blacked out when...

"Hey champ!  You're a prizefighter!  Don't forget your training!"  My coach was yelling loud as fuck at me, and I looked around.  I was bouncing up and down and hitting my gloves together.  I was facing my opponent who was on the other side of the ring.

Oh shit.  What am I doing?  Why the fuck do I get myself into these damned things.  I thought the same thing every fight.  Fuck it.  I looked around the arena, but it was too dark to see anything.  I looked at my opponent.  What's up, little bitch?

"Hey!  Don't forget your training!"

I turned around and leaned toward my coach, "Hey!  I think I'm just gonna rush in and beat him in the first round!"

"No!  Hey!  You stupid motherfucker!  Hey..."

I turned back around and ignored the coach.  I continued bouncing, biting my mouthpiece, and staring at my opponent.  I didn't care anymore.  I didn't want to fight anymore.  I wanted to get this fight over with.  I never wanted to fight again.  Ever.  Like, ever.

So, I braced myself.  My coach's voice faded away.  I would rush in and use all my energy in the first round.  This motherfucker wouldn't know what hit him.

I remembered something.  I looked nearly, around the seats around the ring.  There she was: Taylor Swift.  I waved at her.  She blew me a kiss.

I immediately forgot her.  I went up to my opponent.  We smashed gloves and went back to our corners.  It was almost time.  It was time.

BING! BING!

I rushed forward.  I blocked my left and threw a wild, hard right hook that smashed into my opponents head.  The crowd went wild.  Everybody was standing up yelling, and telling me what to do next.  They were like absolutely insane, caged animals--like monkeys mixed with hyenas that had absolutely lost their minds.

I covered my right, and with all my might I threw eight jabs into the other pugilist's face.  A couple of them made it through, and it seemed as if he was about to turn around and ask his coach what to do about me.  I decided I was done, so I would use all my force on my next two punches.  The crowd was roaring, and I was certain I wouldn't make it out of the arena alive.

I used my whole fucking body.  Covering both sides, I cocked to the right and threw the hardest, biggest, strongest body shot I could imagine and that I had ever thrown.  My opponent's body was jolted, buckled, and he looked as if he was going to fall.  He was slightly leaning toward me, not knowing what to do with his hands and arms.  Within a millisecond we caught eyes, and our souls spoke to one another.  As you know, souls operate in a different space/time world.

"Your eyes are full of fire," my opponent said.

"It's not because of you.  Your eyes are full of fear and confusion.  You look like you're about to drop out," we were being cordial.

"Yes... well... you kind of blindsided me.  We had been studying your tapes, and you have never fought like this.  It's as if you're absolutely mad... like the audience here."

"It's just that I'm done fighting.  I never want to fight again.  Like, ever."

"I see.  Well fucking-a.  You caught me off guard, but I should have been ready for anything."

"You'll have plenty of fights yet.  As for me, I am done.  I'm going to walk off into the sunset with Taylor Swift over there.  Did you see her?  Did you bring a date?  I hope you don't feel embarrassed.  I've been the champ for a long time now.  There's no shame in losing to me.  Hell, there's no shame in losing to anyone.  Fighting is crazy."

"Yes, I saw your Taylor Swift over there.  She looks great.  Yes, I brought a Victoria's Secret model.  She's not that famous yet, but her name is Doutzen Kroes."

"Oh ya.  I know her.  She's hot as fuck."

"Why are your eyes full of fire?"

"I don't know."

"Shall we get on with this?"

"Sure.  Thanks for being my last fight mate."

"No problem."

I threw an insane liver punch.  It was as if my left became a viper and a scorpion at the same time.  The other pugilist's eyes went dark, and then they went white, and then they closed.  I stepped out of the way and down he went, and he would not get up before the count of ten.

I went to my corner.  I waited.  The fight was over.  The crowd swarmed into the ring, but I didn't care about anything anymore.  I didn't even put on the promotional t-shirt.  I stood there motionless, with my stupid arms hanging down, with my stupid hands with stupid gloves on.

Oh well.  I thought, and I just looked around, like a confused man--a pugilist.  Taylor Swift joined my side

The fight was over.

Finally, I wasn't fighting anymore.  I took a long walk.

The Beggar Man

It was wet and raining and cold outside, and the beggar man was outside.

The sky was gray with gray clouds gray from all the sadness in the world.  The whole world was gray.

Well the beggar man looked up at the sky and smiled.  He knew that where there were clouds, there were silver linings.

He looked and looked and looked and looked and looked and looked for the silver linings.

His brow creased, his eyes narrowed, his lips turned downward, and he started getting choked up.  And then, he really started getting choked up.  And then he began to sob lightly, but he was trying not to cry.  You know how that goes?  When you're really trying to hold it back.  And then, through the tears, he looked up at the sky, again.  He squinted and looked hard for the silver lining--there was none.

And then he let go.  He began to cry and sob hard, and the tears came flowing out like the rivers of the Ganges.  He reeled back as if he was hit, until his back hit a wall, and then he felt along until the wall led him to the nearest alleyway; he crept in and slid down against the wall.  He cried and cried.

He slid over to his side, huddled up in the fetal position and cried some more, until he fell asleep.

He woke up, as it was raining, very windy, and had become nighttime.  He was soaked.  It was freezing.

He struggled to his feet, felt around his big empty pockets for his flask, until he found it.  It had been a dreamless sleep.  He took a small swig and began to cry again.  He made his way to the main street, which was empty.  He was a weak beggar man.  His back hurt.  His fingers were creaky.  His nails were black.  His face was nothing but creases from his youth when he used to laugh and smile all the time and from his old age cringing.

He looked around, and it was dark all around.

Afar, he saw a lone light.  His stomach grumbled.  Underneath all the layers of black, shit clothing that he was wearing was a saggy body with shitty bones.  Well, he made his way to the light, to beg for food, of course, because he was hungry... you see?

It took him an hour to get there, and it got darker and scarier every second he traveled.  He was sure he would not make it this time, and he was not sure that this light would be very welcoming.

Knock, knock, knock, at the light's door.

He propped himself against the door jamb, and took his flask out.  He emptied it into his mouth.

Finally, the door opened, and there stood an extravagant looking man.  He was tall, young and handsome, and strong, and his hair was perfect, and he looked brave like a lion.  He was wearing a grand, fine robe of many deep colors, and he was holding two swords.  He smiled at the beggar man.

"Well, look at you!  What are you doing at my door?" He looked around outside and around the beggar man, "Are you alone?  Well, look at you, won't you?"  He sure was a happy looking man.

"Your light was on."

"Oh!  Ok."

"Mister?"

"Yes?"

"Were you awake today during the day?  Were you around town?"

"Oh, no.  Not me.  I was asleep.  Not today.  I slept all through today, and just woke up when you did, at nighttime.  It's a dark night ain't it?  I like it."  He shivered, "So, how can I help you beggar man?"

"There weren't any silver linings in the clouds earlier today during the day."

The grand man looked at the beggar man in the face, and he put his right hand up to his closed mouth, as if he were studying his face.  He had a serious countenance now.  "Well, look at you beggar man, won't you?  How can I help you?"

"I'm hungry."

"I see," he repeated a couple times and thought some more, "no silver lining in the clouds today huh?"

"None."

"What do you think that meant?"

"That there was nothing good to be found.  That it was just a gray, unforgiving world, where you can't find nothing good nowhere.  Not even in all the shit we live in, can we find a glimmer of hope.  That everything is always going to be shit, and nothing is ever going to change, is what I think it meant."

"Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm, that may be so, that may be so," the grand man mused for a while, and then, "Hah!  Well ok!  Who knows, right?"  He had alighted again.  He was bright and cheery again, "that's very interesting.  Who knows, right?  Maybe that is so!  But, look at you, won't you?  For now, why don't you come in and eat?  You said you're hungry did you not?  So, what are you waiting for?  You even look like you're hurting!  I have a whole mess hall of food that I just made with my butler and my cook!  We're just hanging out!  We'll talk about all that shit you just said!  You must be a philosopher or something, you crazy fucking beggar man!"  The man was yelling at this point.

"Thank you."

Well, the beggar man went in and ate a whole mess of fucking food, and he was full.

I Never Asked to be Born! Stations in Life!

I grabbed my skull.  Oh!  I grabbed my skull!  But I didn't quite grab my skull.  I only put both of my hands on my head, and my head was made out of skin, hair, and all sorts of other shit, including a skull and a brain.  In that manner, I grabbed my skull.

And I huddled in a corner.  This corner was in a corner of a dimly lit room.  Yes, there was some light in there.  I didn't know where it was coming from.

What's my name!?  I didn't only ask the question in my head... I shouted it.  Well, my name is Danny Castro, and my name is Daniel Castro on my birth certificate, but I go by Danny.  Ok.  My name is Danny.

I grabbed my skull in the aforementioned manner.  I thought about my brother Ismael and all his wild ideas about light, color, and sight.  On his own, he had figured out that we never really see anything but reflections of light.  I never get to see Ismael Ismael, and Ismael never gets to see me me.  I tightened the grip on my skull.  Let me explain.

The human eye can only see because light shines into it.  If there were no light, the human eye would not be able to see what it sees.  The human eye is a mechanism that picks up light.  That light--and the colors and gradations of that light--is then interpreted by different parts of the brain, and then we "see" what light has reflected.  I'll try again.

If there is no light whatsoever, our eyes see nothing: only darkness.  They see nothing because no light enters into our eyes, and our eyes need light in order to see things.  So, all our eyes really see is light.  So, when there is light, what our eyes see is light reflected off of other things.  The sun shines on different parts of Ismael, and those are the parts that I see, so then I "see" Ismael, but what I really see is a reflection of Ismael.  The light.  Our eyes only see light.

I thought about that because, when I thought I was grabbing my skull, I was really grabbing a bunch of different things.  And when I think I am looking at something, I'm really only looking at the reflection of light off of that thing.

Oh!  Strange things filled my mind.  The room was empty, but there was a dim light coming from somewhere, and I was in a corner grabbing my skull.

All this honesty was thrashing around in my mind.

"What do I do?"  I thought to myself.  "I didn't ask to be born into this."  Outside of the door was waiting my normal life.  I was born in Southern California, and my parents loved me, and it was hard to swallow, because so many people were suffering around the world.

"I didn't ask to be born!"  My mind raged.

I imagined a twelve year old girl born with AIDS in Africa.  There in my corner all huddled up and grabbing my skull fiercely, I thought about her (I also thought about my perfect grammar).  She was poor.  She has had AIDS since she was born, and I forced myself to think hard about this.

She sat in an empty room clutching her skull.  Outside, there was chaos, and there were her siblings waiting for her to take care of them, because their parents were long dead.  The HIV had taken them away.  And her mind raged, "I didn't ask to be born!"

"What is fair?" I thought to myself.  Nothing is fair.  Is it fair that I was born in Southern California to a nice family and she was born in subsaharan Africa with AIDS?  Who the fuck decided to put us where we were born?  Why wasn't I born in subsaharan Africa, and why wasn't she born in Southern California?  Maybe she was?  Maybe I was?  Maybe we were all everybody, and maybe everybody was everybody else!  Why was I thinking so abstractly?  Mark done said, "Love your neighbor as yourself."  Maybe everybody was everybody!

I clutched, and I was losing my mind.  Nobody deserves anything.  I thought hard, and I thought logically.  There must be a god.  Ipso facto, when/how/why/where we were born was not arbitrary, nor meaningless.  Considering the massive implications of all of this, I came to a conclusion.

We are all orphans, to an extent.  What do we deserve?  Almost nothing.  But not nothing.  Something. We deserve something.  For he we are!  We exist!  What do we deserve?  Do we deserve to be rich?  Do we deserve to be poor?  We can't deserve those things, for we had no say in which station we should be born into.  What do we deserve then?  For, we do deserve something.

We deserve love.  Every single one of us deserves love from everyone else.  And we deserve to love everyone.  "Love your neighbor as yourself."  We should be hard on ourselves and on everyone else, in a loving way!  That's the way we should love ourselves and others!

We deserve the chance to be loved.  More importantly, we deserve the chance to love others.

And most importantly, we deserve the chance to be saved.

And so have we been.  Drowning and seemingly without hope for one last gasp of air, we have been saved.

Although it seems that nothing in this life is fair, there is hope and at least we do deserve something and not nothing.  That is fair.

I let go of my skull.  I walked out of my room.  I hugged my family.  I got on my computer.  I sent a couple bucks to whatever organization givewell.org told me to.

I went back to my room.  I closed the door.  I got on my knees.  I was humbled.  I don't deserve any of this.  Hell, I don't even deserve to be alive, probably.  I thanked god and I took George Harrison's advice: "Everything else can wait, but the search for God cannot wait; and love one another."

I heard U2 in the background.

I went back on my computer and thought about true love.