Take the Good with the Bad

What is love? What is Life? I know love has to be as big as Death. Love couldn't survive otherwise. Love has gotta be as strong as Hell too. Otherwise there would be no point in any of us surviving. Why does it always seem that a problem that is finally solved and resolved, creates so many others?

I'll tell you why. Because from the very second that we are born, we start to die. That is an indisputable fact of life. No discussion. No negotiation. But you can't kill love. And love can only exist in these shambling, transient corpses covering the face of this poor, battered planet. How ironic is that?

I walked into St. John's Church with the most beaming grin on my face. There was a funeral going on. I stood next to one of the holy water fonts near the doors from which I had just entered. I didn't want to go too far in.

I stood there snickering to myself at the fact that Ralph was being buried today. He had gotten half of his head chopped off in a car accident with another buddy of his. I didn't remember the guy's name. Ralph was the only one I cared about. I hope he died slow watching his own brains spill
all over his face. I never liked Ralph. He couldn't resist torturing me, mocking me, spitting on me with his football team sidekicks. He didn't like me scribbling in my notebooks all the time. He wasn't worth any scribbles. How ironic that he is worth scribbling about now!

It gave me a great deal of pleasure to be attending his funeral and struggling with all my might to contol the peals of laughter that wanted to burst forth from me. Finally I couldn't hold it anymore and I stumbled from the church crying. I ran fast too. I sure as hell didn't want anyone to think I was shedding tears of grief and the words of life ran through my head with me.

"This is not a world of peace and harmony and dispassionate rationality. Life is a battle. Hate is insolent and strong, beauty enchanting but rare; goodness most likely weak, folly most likely defiant; wickedness to carry the day; imbeciles to be in great places, people of sense in small, and mankind generally unhappy." Strong words from a strong man.

After leaving the church, I drove over to Laura's house in the LeMans I had stolen. I rapped on the door three times and she answered. Laura let me in. She had all the drapes drawn as usual. There were lit candles in strategic places and the smell of incense wafting through the air. I took it all in with a glance and a sniff.

Laura wrapped her arms around my neck and didn't let me go until she had wiped down the back of my throat with her tongue. She looked just as beautiful as ever and I found it hard to try and keep down the pounding in my head, as well as my heart. I sat down at the kitchen table and had a beer while she read my fortune with her Tarot cards.

She said I was surrounded by Death. She said there was more coming. I smiled. This from a girl who on the last full moon had waded across the mud pond to beneath the train trestle, tore off her clothes, lit a bunch of candles she had brought, and hacked herself up with a straight-razor. She still had the bandages on her arms and legs.

I stood up to leave, but she protested by taking my hand and giving me a tug towards her bedroom. I smiled again. I told her I had important business to take care of and it couldn't wait. I left her then, even though I couldn't remember what business exactly.

With a sigh, I started the LeMans and headed for the local cathouse to see Cindy. Money's like blood; every once in a while it's gotta breathe and circulate. But make sure they're deep breaths.