Distorting Nostalgia

That may not be Ambergris.

I know, but it may be useful. A gate.

Maybe it's just ice.

Well I'm not going to look at it, I'm just going to put it into my mouth.

Are we getting to the end of this mystery?

What mystery? It's no mystery to me.

Don't scare people unless you need to, like I do.

See that drunken bum in the street? He's still someone's father.

Unfortunately true.

But not my Father, my Father stays dead.

Please tell me, please predict whether this may or may not happen again.

It will never happen again, the hands of the clock move forwards not in reverse. So take notes.

Writing it didn't happen, doesn't really count does it? Because it did. Happen.

I guess this is as close to the promised land as our dying flesh will come.

Venice is sinking. I always thought I'd die here, I don't know why. There's worse places I think.

Not today you won't die.

How do you know?

Because it's never too late to fill our sails.

To know the truth, knowing that the truth is always overrated.

Well we must deviate to get there, always we must deviate. There is more than one way of proceeding.

What? Through miles of fallen pathways and dead creatures? What's the point?

Bitch. Let's make it through this World together.

Okay okay, maybe I think about it. But in the dark, which one is talking?

I think you know.

I think I do. 

Let them talk.

The bombs will still fall anywhay huh?

We were never really born, we will never really die. Nothing really matters.

Just take care of me, one way or another.

I promise.

No promises, please. Just do.

You will never find the truth, but maybe you will find a truth. God I love you, I have fallen in love with you.

This could all be avoided with a little therapy. This love nonsense!

ECT? 

Yes, one more trip to Belle Vue and that's where we headed. The ECT chair.

I'm okay with that, we didn't try it out yet.

As long as it doesn't hurt.

I wonder why the guy hanged himself at Grand Central?

Attention.

Brutal.

True though.

Let's play at all the treatments, we don't want to become serial killers!

No, that's a special kind of fucked up we aren't familiar with.

A tiny prick of electricity when the brain doesn't work right. It might have helped.

But it didn't happen, so people died. Robbed of their future. For what? Some asshole who felt slighted?

And took it out on the innocent.

Give me some of that.. What is it?

MDMA.

Wow.

Prescription honey. And exactly what it takes to cure PTSD.

Here Is Not The Problem

Elephant's bear grudges, they hide in the tree's, waiting, piston's pumping.

I don't bear grudges, I just hate the fucking lot. I wish I could be mean. Like really fucking mean. 

Mean isn't your aura, you're too clean.

You?

I don't get mean, I get even - eventually. And never in a polite way.

I want to be like you.

A fucking fire spewing bitching bastard? No, you really don't. I remain silent for an age, and then I go too far.

How far is too far?

Not far enough some may say.

You look real trashy under that trench coat..

Keep looking. There is where you can go nowhere, faster than you ever dreamed possible.

Do you sleep with your door open?

I sleep with my mind open.

I want to be like you, I didn't ever meet anyone quite like you.

And thankfully, you are unlikely to ever again.

The Queen with no crown.

Who love's the stench of the past.

I love your frenzy, your heat. It intoxicates me.

Like fine wine or a decent poison? Cyanide in a C - cup.

 You are a Class A narcotic.

I'm a child of Neptune. This is our normal.

The High Priestess, black majik in black french knickers.

 I cannot tarry any longer. I am waiting for an answer to my next step, it will come from the astral plane.

Whereas I will sit here waiting, in deep shit, with my principles.

Ah! the thing I lack!

You do.

Give me your heart.

Your soul is my sun, but I don't ever give away my heart.  I have tasks to complete before we fall into the stars.

There is always Nemesis.

I am Nemesis. 

Let's go on a break together.

Yes, a psychotic break! 

Funny. Everything is a fucking joke with you.

My genetic pool runs deep with madness. I suffered for years, within a family riddled with bipolar type schizoaffective disorders. They thought they were normal.

But you escaped.

I did, but the trauma persists.

I will protect you.

I don't need protection, I need a fucking flame thrower! Burn the past to the ground, reduce it to ashes!

Held within the arms of lunacy. No one to rely on.

Only briefly, and so I am forever grateful of that. Grateful to that young girl who had the balls to run away into the night! I rely on myself!

We are both in pain, you as the abandoned child, me as the lonely child.

We need to forgive them, they didn't know anything better. Those two children.. Did you ever speak to your inner child?

No, when he comes I send him away.

Same. As if it were their fault.

              I don't love you.

              I never wanted you as a child.

              I don't care about you.

Do we see each other, or are we looking in a mirror?

There are benefits to the journey we both embarked on. We are independent, we are strong, we move without constant interference. Transition brings opportunity as well as loss.

Acceptance. It's the key. but there are still issues I'm drawn into that simply must be resolved.

Right the wrongs. Of the weak and silenced.

Suicide is always on my back burner.

Not mine, a Roganjosh is on mine. And anyhow, I found your gun and hid it.

I have plenty of other's.

And here is the shift, me protecting you. Against yourself!

Nemesis, the evener of chance, and the big sister of anything that counts.

....And Look Under The Stone's!

Do you think ghost's die and come back as bodies?

Interesting thought.

Do what you should do, so as not to have regrets. Every other day I hear of a friend or relative moving to a heavenly abode and reflect on when will the bell toll for me.

Morbid.

Not really, but you need to keep your Karma clean. Face death as part of your reconcilliation with the inevitable.

Do you live in fear of the Dark Angel?

No. That is one precipice I have been over. There is nothing to fear. Unless your soul is black. 'For when I am, death is not, and when death is, I am not.' Epicurus... Greek philosopher.

What distinguishes a dead man from an alive one?

Energy never perishes, it can neither be created nor destroyed. It merely changes form. So there is no distinction.

Let's go out and see what masks they are selling on the dark streets tonight.

Coffee, I'd sooner have coffee. I'm done with masks.

Isn't it grand when the rumour's turn out to be true?

Someone somewhere is falling to their knee's and weeping, that's for certain.

They will be happier when the dark deities pay them a visit, to get it over and done with.

Death loves death and wants more, I remember in my Father's garage.

What is your theology?

I have no particular beliefs. I believe there are two types of people, those who worship the dark side, and those who prefer to remain within the light. The darker their soul, the more they require the crutch of forgiveness from an invisible source. Their God. To cleanse their rotten soul.

Can you be born with a black soul?

I think so. They blame their upbringing and childhood trauma. But look at two different people from the same background. One may be of the darkness, the other bathed in light. 

Serial killer's traditionally have a foul relationship with their mother's.

And yet the serial killer's brother prospered while his brother raped and murdered. You hear of it time and again!

Rejected, neglected, and eventually dead.

Well, when you're a child, you make stupid wishes. Believe stupid things.

Your wishes were a sign of things to come perhaps.

There were signs. But I always knew I'd be alright. I was 40 years old when I was born, I had little choice in that. My childhood was ended before it began.

Your Winter has almost ended.

You think so?

You are a great person, you know?

I know. I'm a crayon of many colour's.

Live, live my brilliantly bright River! All of this, despite the fact that that you won't wear the slippers I bought you!

How could I? They cost 300 dollars!

So, where do the barred soul's disembark?

Manchester darling. Or some other hell the demons have lined up.

You're like a child.

At last!

Relax my darling. The truth's will out!

And they will eat the bitter fruit.

Let's just speak, and see who listens.

You know what?

What?

It's raining in Venice.

Pretend You Have Instant Karma

 Who knows you better?

Me.

No. You don't know yourself at all. I'm here, lurking, it's useless you trying to run.

My salty kiss brings lot's of salty tears, copious amounts actually.

Tears aside, which I don't like but can handle, how do we flush out Dr Jimmy?

All his roads lead to Burgerking.

Seriously?

Yes, I imagine. He's cheap. I think.

Okay..

So every burger joint in NYC?

I don't see why not. Did you stake out his girlfriend's place? She may know something?

Not yet. I'll speak to someone from the division.

He'll be in disguise.

As what?

An angel, disguising the demon.

We need you for that. You have the intuitions that we lack.  You can disguise your appearance, but not your gait. 

He walks weird?

Yes, he has an old injury, you didn't notice?

Not particularly.

But we need his DNA.

That's why we need to find him in his fast food joint, take his cup.

I am thinking that due to his paranoia he will never leave anything behind, make sure he's cleaned up after himself.

We can get inside his house, steal his toothbrush? But undoubtedly he sterilizes everything after he's used it.

We need some sort evidence before we can pounce.

Supposing there is none? Like if there was no DNA left at the crime scene?

There was trace evidence left behind, a rare blood type.

I've got a rare blood type!

Well unless you are the killer, it isn't yours.

He's getting old, time is running out.

Do you suppose he kept any souvenir's from his crimes?

Who knows? possibly.

Such as?

I don't know. An item from the house, jewellery, I have no idea.

What were his motives? I don't see a motive!

As before. Greed. Hatred. Fear.

The girl with the baby buried beneath the derelict building? But the couple in Queen's? Old and defenceless! I can't see the motive.

We need to try and locate the area the baby was hidden, find out if he was in the vicinity during that period.

But first we need to locate him.

What about the local bars?

Possible, he drinks to kill the demons which in turn actually awaken them.

Every bar in New York, it's not realistic. 

I have an idea.

Oh... What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?

Waiting for someone to airlift me out. I hate it here. I hate all of this shit actually.

Karma. There's always karma.

Yes, it knows your address, it's like a postman. It knows where you live. You don't know when it will come, but it will come.

Who's Afraid Of Me?

 You will see..

You only progress because you know you were wrong.

Breathe in my suffering, and breathe out my blessings.

Yelling obscenities is okay. As long as you don't mention bodily functions hey?

No, that's rude.

Is disgust an emotion?

It depends.

Yes, one injection and it never happened! Don't say no, say yes. Yes to what? To yesterday?

The birth you, is erased now, she's gone.

But still we shall continue with what we set out to do, despite the discomfort.

And do it as cleanly as good children.

What exactly are crimes against nature?

Ungodliness.

Let's go into the garden, that seems like a good place to sulk.

You flew over the palace of Versailles?

Yes I did.

Then you didn't trip over any roots.

But I saw the flowers and the trees.

I'm not going to bite your face off. Trust me.

It's okay for you, your life is locked pleasantly into place.

You are made of glass. You are as beautiful as the day is long, but shorter.

And more and more I feel I am being deceived by the lesson that was meant to teach me.

Where are you my love?

Leave me deep in the arms of sleep.

We are an army.

But I'm tired.

We need to fight on. Let's uncover the truth.

You put your hand over my eyes, and when you lifted it, my youth was gone.

But your spirit isn't.

I am the daughter of Hope.

And you are the first person who ever believed in me.

But why do you love me and not her? She has the future.

She doesn't have your weird, so I'm not interested enough to go any further.

But she's safe.

And you are dangerously fascinating.

Okay. Let's continue along our original path.

Dr Jimmy?

Yes. What do you think?

I think he's schizophrenic. He once burned everything he owned because he thought the police were going to frame him.

For murder?

I'm not sure. I know he carries a large knife. Incase anyone knocks on his door.

So he's paranoid also.

For sure.

You believe he's alive too.

Yes.

What about the death certificate?

Forged. Or he's obtained one in the name of someone with the same name.

James Gibson. Common enough. Easily obtained online I should think. I wonder what he died of?

I don't know, but we need to find him.

Don't forget about his large knife, should we find him.

We don't need to go back to Belle Vue.

Not yet. But at some stage we will. To talk to Wendy.

Dr Jimmy. He thinks he's being followed. He will do death by cop if absolutely necessary, never will he face up to Justice. He will drown his conscience in cheap wine each and every night. But he will never surrender.

I think he's always thinking of ways to destroy people, at other times he's trying to find ways to make money. Money is key here. He is a virtual incel.  His hatred of women is all consuming.

What makes you say that? He has a girlfriend.

She has money.

Okay.

He thinks people are watching him via satellites.

Maybe they are.

He was seen in a church near the hospital.

Was he carrying his large knife I wonder?

I would say yes to that.

So he's a continued danger, loose on the streets.

Particularly when drunk.

And yet no one suspects a thing?

I suggest someone suspects something, but they are quietened by their fear. Fear of being alone. Even he is better than lonliness.

He will fade into nothing, and become ash by the end of his ride. A nameless tombstone in the middle of nowhere.

After being booty shot with a whole lot of Haldol.

Or Melaril.

Giant men with needles while you're strapped down in a metal box.

I think that's good enough for him.

I would think his suicidal tendencies are high.

Eloquently put.

He lies a lot, but I think he believes what he's saying.

There you go. 100 percent. Paranoid schizophrenic.

How did he hide this for so long?

Because he's cunning. Not clever, cunning.

No matter how cunning he is, detached from reality, the voices are still there. The pictures of what he's done are running through his mind on a constant loop.

Perhaps they are quietened by medication?

We need to find him before he hurts someone else.

It's useless for him to keep on running, he is his own captor.

A Study In Insincerity

  You are talking about the past as if it were the future.

Clarity comes in between two places.

Waking up to you is getting ridiculous now.

Sometimes even love can't agree with itself with which form to take. Where can I find a man governed by reason and not his urges?

You need to watch yourself, as if you were your own worst enemy.

I'm a confused spirit. Night and day but at the same time.

Much of your pain is what you chose for yourself.

Maybe so, but I am healing my sick self with the poisons within myself. You know, men like you make the laws, but you also break them more than those of us who follow you as a shining example.

Yes, Death and prison for you mere mortals. It's a different law for the rich. Only an idiot or a genius breaks manmade laws. 

Is comitting a crime a need?

No, it's a disease.

But you took a bite from the apple.

I bit the apple to cure you.

Tell the ugly truth!

How did we ever meet? At the same time, at the same place?

Time has really changed, and it has changed us too.

It can all be lost, and one day it shall be forgotten.

Joy and sorrow. All bundled up neatly into one beautiful package. But your real beauty is within you, like the calm peacefulness of a lake. While beneath the surface, the dangerous currents flow strongly.

I was holding a wooden box, it had many compartments of different sizes. I opened a small drawer, and precious stones fell into my lap. All the drawers contained jewels of different sizes, but each of the compartments was full.

So what is the next move?

To find the man who gave me the box?

How?

I didn't figure it out yet, but I must do this for myself.

So you are back on the yellow brick road?

Not quite, but I feel my self moving slowly back towards it.

Why?

It gives me security. Peace of mind.

And me?

You give me anxiety and make me throw up periodically.

So you will pursue the Sheikh?

Please! He pursued me! I don't want to head in that direction, but feel as if you have pushed me onto that path. Given me no choice!

Careful, please don't speak another word.

You see, this is not love! This is spilled blood on your Iranian carpet!

Your words are like spilled blood. You know, you can't return to your Mother once you have left home!

I didn't have a mother to return to, so it was never difficult for me. Home was never an option, there was no home!

It never harmed anyone!

It never helped anyone either.

We are running out of time.

There is an art to being confused you know?

Why are you here?

I will tell you what I have told you before, so do not ask me to repeat myself!

I Didn't lock you in! This isn't a prison!

No one knows how to leave anymore.

Maybe if you just opened your heart a little.

Please God, give me a doorknob to turn.

But we are marvelous.

We are a layer of some elaborate hoax.

You're tired. 

Yes. Sick and tired.

You need to be more supportive, of the one's who lock you in. Keep you safe from yourself.

Yes of course.

Not again. It's in your nature not to stay.

Today always becomes tomorrow.

I saw you at the Italian bar on Bleeker's, you looked high, you looked very high actually.  It was a crying disgrace.

So. No one knew me.

Where are we tomorrow? Where?

I don't know, but I can't cry anymore.

It seems so clear to me. It's over now.

Yeah, get out of here.

You are so outrageous. Did you change your name again?

That's how you play the game, you change your name.

You're like a gangster on the run. Tiny one.

Yes I'm special.

Everything happens for a reason, you know that?

Karma.

Does the Sheikh have a Gulfstream?

I think he has more than one.

You seriously want to go back to the Middle East?

Not really. I don't mind Muscat and Oman. Not Dubai. I hate it.

But he's based in Minnesota?

Yes.

Don't do this. I love you.

I know.

Questions are always going to remain unanswered.

Please, come and lay down in the outline where you once were. Just be prepared to leave. Don't make any friends, and tiny one... Don't fall in love.