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Act 5

I wish I could turn back the clock and bring the wheels of time to a stop.

I would then know exactly what to do, when to do it, and also how. There was a time when I used to pray so hard for this wish to come true somehow. But it’s a hard fact that I can’t. No one can. We are men of the world, aren’t we? So let’s be practical.

You know when I watched Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, I was so livid at the movie. It offered a solution that was imagined, not real. I cannot erase my memory and start over as if nothing has happened. So I am always cursed with the knowledge of how things were, and what could have been, and how it can never again be like that now. Only if I could change everything, only if I had the power of time. Oh, I hated the Doctor Strange movie for the same reason. Impractical crap!

So, what are you left with when there is nothing else to do? It is said that we are the architects of our own destiny. We can do anything, we can be anyone. It’s a lie, you know. One of the greatest cons of man. It’s just said because otherwise people, in general, would become frustrated and go insane without the promise of hope. Optimism is so overrated!

We are encouraged to dream when that is all it is – a dream that is not real and can not be true. We are encouraged to hope when that is just like any other drug that takes you high to flights of fancy but nothing is ever fulfilled actually. We are encouraged to believe that faith is rewarded, eventually, if only you would invest your trust in it. I have come to realize the futility of all these fantasies they sell. They are good at their job too, because so many times I have caught myself almost giving in by listening to them and start believing the mirage of hope they construct.

It’s all a matrix. Designed to deceive us. So seductive is its cloying charm that we hardly question it. And why would we when things are going well with us? And when they don’t, there is always hope. I have thought and thought hard about all this. And I have come to the conclusion that hope is the most damning poison of all. A Greek philosopher once said, a couple of millennia back, that hope is the most universal feeling that remains locked in the human heart even when all is lost. A more modern philosopher, one I agree with, suggested that hope is only necessary as without it, despair would be incomplete!

Silly sentiments? No, sentimentalism is past. I have come to the very edge of my reason. And now I have a clear vision of everything about and around me. I accept the world as it is, and I also accept that I am not part of this world, I just don’t fit in. And to me, there is no greater sin than to try matching round pegs and square holes, just because conformity is a comfortable tendency.

Sometimes I think that life with all its manifestations is really an aberration. Only because we are so afraid of our lack of immortality. Life, as we know it, is a desperate plea, seeking attention so as not to be forgotten, not to be ignored. It was an accident that started life, and like a disease, it has spread. But it is such a mind-numbing pleasant sensation, that while we will eagerly put on arms to defeat any other virus, we will not take any action against the cancer called life. And instead of hypocrisy, we will actually call this inaction a triumph!

I am now sure why my two earlier attempts on my life were botched. Because I was still clinging to infantile hope of love, of life, of meaning to it all where there was none. It was sickening the regret, the denial, the unrealistic fear to open myself to the possibility that after all, there is no meaning. In this world. To our lives. For our rainbow of emotions. I see it now. And frankly, I am not scared anymore. It’s rather a sense of relief.

What would I do then, you ask? I have made up my mind. I know exactly what I am going to do. A quote comes to mind. “It is a far, far better thing that I do than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to, than I have ever known.” Apt, isn’t it?

I am really being pragmatic here. Not romanticizing about being an ordinary guy with an ordinary life an ordinary wish with an ordinary end. I am merely going to a finish line predestined for me, like every other living form on this planet, on the day, the very moment I came into existence. What is anything romantic about it? Believe me, if you can that there is no vanity in being killed by love!

And other drugs. Literally. Spent all my savings to procure these. I will sit then, just with myself, with my playlist on loop as usual, and open my full bottle of whiskey. Much better to use it instead of water to gulp down the drugs. Very potent as I was assured by the guy who sold me these, and warned, with a dubious wink, not to take them all at once. And then I'll drift away to sleep. A rest from which I won’t have to wake up again and face this world.

So, it’s goodbye my friend. Goodbye!

Postscript: Found. Face down on the pillow. And, scribbled almost illegibly this note - "I'll love her till I -".

Epilogue

- So?

- Mmmmmmm… I love this pizza. Nice. Remind me to order it next time too.

- Well?

- What’s the matter with you? You hardly ate. What?

- Well, how did you like it?

- Like? Oh, your story, right. Well, it was nice.

- That’s all you have to say?

- What more do you want me to say? It was nice. Honestly, not at all original, the ending was inane but overall really nice.

- Why do you do it all the time? Make me feel insignificant? Don’t you feel anything, understand anything? Don’t you understand what I am feeling?

- Oh, please. Don’t start all this drama. I am tired of it. You have become so boring nowadays. There is nothing new to talk about or do. You want to read me what you write, fine. But almost everything you write, sucks. You have nothing new to say. But god forbid if I say anything to contradict your vanity or refuse to stroke your ego...

- So my writing is not good enough, huh? What’s wrong with it? Come on, say it. You have to explain it now that you have started it. Or is it just another thing you are saying to hurt me?

- See? That’s all you get from what I’m trying to say here. It’s impossible to have a sensible conversation with you. Come on. This is beyond childish. Can we have this talk later, please? Or never, if possible? I didn’t use to have migraines earlier, you know?

- Oh. Oh…

- See? Drama again. Stop it. Seriously. Why must everything be always about you or how good you are at your hobby? For god’s sake, stop acting up. Or I will just leave. Now can we start again, please?

- Oh…

- Ok, I am full. Do you want the last piece of the pizza or not?

- F- you. Goddammit!

- That’s it. That’s just it. Don't bother following me. And don't you call.

- Sorry, sorry, I am really sorry, it was a mistake, really I didn’t mean it like that, don’t leave, please don’t. It’s ok, everything is good. I will be good, you just see. Don’t go. I am sorry, please. Don’t go. Please, please, please…

Why did I have to open my big mouth? I should have been more careful and not rock the boat. She did say it was nice, didn’t she? What am I to do now? Oh god, she has switched off her phone. Why did she do that? All I did was call her because she left in that foul mood. Ok, ok, I called her twenty-three times in ten minutes or so. But she didn’t pick up the phone, so I called. How is it that my fault? And now I cannot get through to her. What will I do? What to do? Oh god, what am I to do now? I wish, oh how I wish I could turn back the clock ….

The End