Friday, January 12, 2018

The Prophet of the Insects

Did Kafka know that he would become a prophet?

When I discovered that my father had died while playing golf, I put on my running gear then went on a solo marathon through the city. He was finally dead and I couldn't do anything to stop it. I knew that my mother would be at peace that the man who abused her for ten years was dead. As I ran, I felt something that had been attached to me to finally fall off my back like a scab or something. Here I was, a 49 year old man, running because my father was no more. With every breath, I felt more and more of his influence leaving my body. With every breath, I felt like the way I used to be before my father began heavily drinking. When I returned home, I peeled off my drenched clothing, showered, then stepped out to dry off, only to scream in horror. I turned this way and that in front of my mirror, making damned sure I really saw what I thought I saw.

I read Kafka when I thought I wanted to conquer the world. I read his words and thought, yes! He sees what I see. He fears what I fear. I had my peers, true, but he stood above them all. I loved him like a brother. Even when I met Dianne, fell in love with her, married her then left her when she decided that her female friend Jessica was better in bed than I, I still clung to my brother's words. And now. Now this.

I touched them and they felt real. I carried a thought - flutter - and they did oh so silently. I then arched my back and they folded into my skin and disappeared. I turned again and saw a bare outline of them in my back. I grinned then laughed like a madman. Kafka was a prophet.

The world now unfolds before me - every delicious layer ready for my approval. The people that inhabit it just merely drag through it. They don't know and I won't show them. They don't deserve it. I hear the buzzing all the time now. Words never spoken by human mouths are transmitted to me. They tell me of a different world.

While walking to a coffee shop one day, I caught a woman's glance. She smiled at me then pulled me to the side in the side alley and hissed in my ear. Such ecstasy! Such bliss! I arched my back and let her touch them as her eyes grew. She brushed her head against my cheek and I tasted the pollen that drifted towards my mouth.

Not a dream. My eyes are open. All of them.

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