Beyond

I felt old as I sat there at my desk. Glass of whiskey at my side. They felt I was young, but I just felt like I had missed everything. An old man with regrets. I had never been to China. I had never done drugs except for the worst kinds. I had never enjoyed myself. Always this filter between me and bliss. Trying to eat away at this layer, with things like relationships, pastimes, substances, love even. All the while creating more layers. As I chiseled away at them with my frail hands, the cement just poured on down. Poured down like the whiskey. Just some more poison to my bloodstream.

And this fucking book that just laid there. What was it to me? A mind so complex that sometimes the words just streamed. Right from the voices in my head to the ink in my pen. Swooping and swerving for days. Finally symbols, neatly ordered on slices of dead trees. Fucking book. It's not easy, living with your soul in your eyes. Even those clowns that preached that kind of madness had 'em stuck deep down in their asses. I coughed as I rolled up my sleeves. That belly stuck tightly in my shirt. I didn't even hate it. I mean, it was big, yes, but firm. It kind of suited me.

It had been a good night at the bar. Ed had told some good old stories. I even took me home some broad. For all the guys reading, it's not that hard. Those women like men who see the world for what it is. She was a little older, but she had this beautiful, sexy, little figure beneath a tightly wrapped black dress; that I got to unwrap.

It seemed sunny outside through the blinds. She was still asleep in the other room. She seemed all right yesterday, actually. An hour later and there she stood. I looked at her, and then she walked up to me. She kissed me on the mouth.

"What's up hon?"

"Okay, that's cool. I mean, yeah, that's cool," I thought.

I guessed I kind of looked at her funny.

"Oh come on, you know you felt it too."

"Felt what?"

"We've got a connection! That's okay, nothing to be ashamed about!"

"Is that right?"

She sat on my lap. This was nice actually. Where were my layers now? The day passed. She roamed about my house like she was my landlady. Then she came in with that book. Big eyes, looking at me.

"What's this?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing? Come on, what is it?"

"It's nothing I told you."

"How?"

"How what?"

"God dammit! Come on! ... My mom! She passed away when I was little."

She looked at me so sad. Teary eyes.

"Is she.. someplace safe? Is she okay?"

I was stunned. What was she talking about? That big black book in her hands.

"Honey, look, I don't..."

"Did you write this?"

"Yeah, I did, I mean..."

"No, did you write.. this?"

I looked at her. I looked down. Then I looked right into her eyes. Those eyes, scared to death.

"I guess I didn't..."

She burst into tears. Then a smiled burst through those tears.

"She's really okay, isn't she?"

"Yeah, yeah she is."