132 Days Away From Life

SNAPSHOTS by Jessica of "132 DAYS AWAY FROM LIFE", A NOVEL BY JAIMIE DELING ...wait till the same reader get his hands on the same raw material and the same reader will thank your humble narrator for enlightening his person over the preparatory steps previous to consumption. ...I found Laney's dead body somewhere, with a guitar strapping his neck to strangulation.Like it was my good habit, I searched his pockets for any finding.I met with a bottle of something to drink and a few sundries, which I robbed and ran away, only the pounding rain in my pursuit. ...Soon I realised that I was uselessly running and instead adopted a calm and regular walk. I started wanting a lot of things. I wanted to hear a soothing harp melody, I started wanting a lot of money, and I started wanting reciprocal love, in the order Maslow mentioned in his hierarchy. ... The humble narrator wishes to suitably quote the lyrical virtues of the poet K.D. Cobain (to the risk of many of his contemporaries accusing him further of being a has-been). 'I'm not the only one, no. I'm not the only one, no. I'm not the only one' ...Blood was gushing out of their slit throat, forming the most charming pools of blood underneath their skulls. 'Who could have done such a thing?' my subconscious asked, rather sarcastically, I must say. Me? Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps! (I say "hi!" here to the band Cake who sang that song to me one night of rainfall.) Could I remember anything? I would not say. Sincerely?You think it could have been me? ...'They are cannibals,' Croesus said seconds later. 'But very useful guys! No trouble at all with them. Nothing to fear if you do not practice any sport.They eat only sportsmen. Those who are serious about it, of course. They were healthy food. They call it a policy. Human meat is often infected with nicotine and alcohol, they say. Very improper for consumption. But please do not bother. They respect my authority blindly.' ...'What they like most is the liver,' Croesus told me. 'But they also value the lungs. It is their sacred delicacy. I go to their feasts from time to time, you know. They are very good hosts, believe me. Nothing better that their lung curry, accompanied by some hot chili sauce. Awesome, young man, awesome!" ...It seemed easy for me to ignore the kid now that I knew he was of no use to me. So I walked on and on and on. Suddenly, I was a stranger to my environment. I felt like a big mistake. A birthplace error. I felt alien to that sick town, that sick country, that sick planet, that sick solar system, that sick galaxy etc. 'I would have surely felt better on some planet called Vegania, Pacmania, Banania...anything, anywhere instead of that stinking mad ball' I sulkily suggested to myself, on some planet where when you see a dot in the sky you can assure yourself that it's nothing strange. Someone would come and say: 'it's an elephant that is flying.' And I would reply: 'today is a sweet and windy day and it's good to be flying.' ...The telephone rang...I picked up the receiver, once again losing a battle against curiosity. 'Hello...(ten seconds silence), hello' the voice said. 'I know it's you.' 'Yeah,' I sternly replied 'I was just ringing to say Happy Birthday,' she went on. 'I wanted to tell you that I think a lot about you, that you can count on me. We've shared so many things. As you know I'm going out with a rich businessman. He's not that cute, you know. But he makes my parents and my friends laugh. He's a bit old but that's what I always wanted. Sorry for us. Could have been good if you weren't what you are. Anyway, I'm happy to hear your voice after so long. You know that I care a lot about you...' 'I'm going to kill you, you bitch...' Beep...beep...beep...beeeeeeeeeeep...it went on. ...The final cut. I'm nearly sure that I hate life and all that it represents.But I feel the same about death also. So, I'm sort of trapped in this life-death dilemma and I don't really know what to do. In fact, most of the time, you realise, dear reader, that choice is not within the realm of the possible. Eventually, it's life or death that chooses you. But anyway, this line of thinking, talking about suicide, I mean, is said to be out of date. Some very clever people said that those guys like me are too dumb to talk about something else. So guys like me use the word "suicide" as an easy way out, a means of attracting sympathy or making big money. Maybe they are right. Anyway, whatever is done or said, the whole world is just an interdependent puppet organization. In real terms, everyone just got as much as I've got, that is, a big and universal NOTHING. ... belief was a notion that had gone astray the moment I had felt intelligent and asked myself what to believe in. ... 'I'll get a piece of cloth or a hanky or something for the divine ether.' He slowly dragged his lethargic body to the cupboard again at the feet of Good Old Jesus Christ The Legitimate Son Of The Boss In Heaven. ...'Try to cry, little boy!' my brother said. 'It might help them reach the sun, you never know!' 'Why the fuck would I want them to reach the sun!' the little boy instantly scolded. ...'Hey that's my favourite Guns'n'Roses song,' my brother intervened, ill-choosing the moment like no one else could. 'But I thought it was a cyclone which had caused all this remue-menage.' ...The only thing that was lacking (a blatant attempt towards sarcasm) was maybe the finally faultless intervention of the I.A.S. (International Association of Superheroes) ...The remaining six or seven minutes was spared by the newsmakers for news about African malnutrition, global warming, the various wars around the globe and sports, namely soccer and horseracing...I travelled across the channels and the images changed from animals fornicating on Channel 1 to human beings doing the same on Channel 68. ...He seemed to be ready for everything.His answers contained more serenity than the whole of the Church of England when trying to comment on the Irish problem...my brother's direction, 'because of the diverging interests of those who firmly believed in a God and those who thought about no other divinity than the self. They grouped into two clans: the Fundass Zero T, those who believed in God as the supreme and the Solipsist R Movement, those who believed in the self as only reigning power in this dimension and the others to come.You know the bullshit about The Conscience started by student unions to be cool in our old dimension where most of us in this Dimension of The Deceased were born. It was their fault, said the Fundass Zero T, those who won, these soldiers around town that you keep seeing.' ...'Well, our dimension is called Gumnam,' he said with the enthusiasm of someone providing primordial information. 'It is a square piece of land that keeps extending as more death occurs on Earth.' 'So I'm in heaven, sort of?' I asked, a little perplexed. 'What are you talking about?' he retorted.He seemed deceived. 'Don't ever use these two words young man? You would be considered mentally retarded or dangerous, if you do. We Gumnamese do not believe in myths. We have already been deceived once, remember? Gumnam is different world in many respects. That you will see by yourself I am sure. There is no supernatural here. There is no soul. You have somehow just been transferred from one dimension to another through death. Everything you've been told about death is absolute rubbish. Here life is the same as in the previous dimension, if not much harder. You got to be strong if you want to survive! All the sins of mankind are just transferred to this dimension. Anything can happen to you here. It can be compared to Cambodia if you want. Here anything can happen to you. But nothing supernatural. Only concrete things happen.The same sins of the previous dimension, young man! You can even die once again if you don't watch out! And nobody can tell what the next dimension would be. YOU'LL NEVER WALK ALONE.