Truth Serum

I met a woman at a bar before the next step.

I bee-lined for the door. Didn’t look at the gap I had to cross. A problem for tomorrow or never.

She saw me and offered me the spirits that the bartender had long left behind.

She was a good listener and slightly older than me. Taken several steps ahead and stopped where I was.

She called me tiger and it did not make me feel bad.

I was twice as honest as usual because she was also trying to get me drunk. I told her things I will regret.

We talked and heard each other’s steps. Tried to figure out whose journey was hardest. Neither as always.

She asked me what I did and I said it was very complicated and looked like nothing.

I asked her what she did and she said she worked from home.

She asked me what I wanted to be and I said that is a good question and got more drunk.

I said when I was young I wanted to be an inventor. Make new things. Not to help people or make things better. Just things that I would enjoy.

I said when I was young I wanted to be a storyteller. Hijack other people’s imaginations. Play with their feelings, make them happy or sad. Make them feel ok for one more day. Make them tear themselves apart and become something else. Make them vomit with fright at the world around them.

I said when I was young, but older than I would admit, I wanted to be the messiah. Miracles the whole shebang. Wanted to be humanity’s last shining hope, sacrificed on an altar for the goodest cause.

I said I wanted to be a good person.

I asked her and she said she wanted to be an actress and poured me a drink.

I downed it and said

I am not a good person.

Nobody is. It is just chemicals and thought patterns and bullshit.

She said yes it is.

I tried to drink out of my glass but it was empty.

I shook my glass and said that I get all first year philosophy on these.

She said she feels like a first year in everything.

She said we can be truthful we have both been drunk before and we are the last two standing.

I said falling and fell off a bar stool.

I looked up at the roof and the top half of her sat down in my vision.

I said can we stay on the ground and she said yes that is ok.

I said I feel lowly and she said yes.

I said I sold my soul to the devil and I think it was because I don’t feel I deserve it.

I said I can stare down the lord of hell but I don’t know what to do with that.

I said I can’t stop speaking in riddles and bullshit

I said I say thank you in another language because it feels like a cussword to me.

I said thank you for putting up with me.

She shuffled, lay next to me. My heart beat faster as always.

We were quiet.

She said I have seen many go past and I know you.

She said you may not recognise me now. She said

Sometimes I am a worm. Feast on dirt and let it flow through me.

Sometimes I am a malice. A pair of angry eyes floating in hell.

Sometimes I am a well. Bring up only what I need.

Sometimes I want a happy home and simple life.

Sometimes I want to kill people.

Sometimes I want to be a chain reaction. A small stone that brings down a mountain. An image to shape the world in.

Sometimes I want to be the only one.

Sometimes I am an extension of somebody else’s will.

Sometimes the universe revolves around me until I am dizzy.

Sometimes I am a husk.

Sometimes someone else owns me.

Sometimes I am a good person.

There are many of me.

There are many of you.

You cannot be lonely even if you try.

Everyone’s chemicals make them feel wretched.

Everyone’s brain is what makes them feel pain.

You will feel this hangover.

Cheer up tiger.

I said that I was going to sleep on the floor.

She said you can do whatever you want and stood.

I said that I would be asleep for a while.

I said you should move on in the morning.

She said maybe she would maybe she wouldn’t.

I got nowhere better to be.

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