a friend invites me to a party type thing at the pub at the end of my street, it's his girlfriends birthday and nico and i say we will attend but end up getting distracted watching dvds, so later i honour my commitment and slip into the pub and find the party. well firstly in case you don't know i hate pubs, it's very rare to get me in one, i'm absolutely opposed to the idea that a pub can actually offer me anything. secondly i have an aversion to people who inhabit pubs, especially these big personality deficit ones as they are usually drunk and talk about drivel as their egos and minds are inflated by spirits they don't even know infect them, there's sports everywhere, tonight i'm bombarded by a massive screen showing some sort of meathead game with a squished ball, rugby they call it, most of the crowd are watching this and cheering making conversation impossible and one after another a bunch of drunk girls introduce themselves to me, all leaking desperation pheromones in the hope of finding some sort of comfort for the void in their lives. man i see it so clearly, like a massive cancer eating away at them from the inside.
fortunately i have brought my book, however this is no deterrent as they start asking me all sorts of questions, obviously because i am the only man in there not interested in sports.
with my toenails painted book in hand and the ability to offer a stimulating menu of conversational subjects they think i am gay, which i have to deny by saying i am actually a porn actor. i'm not really sure why i said it, shock value, attention, to inject something into the zombie sports atmosphere of the evening.
a tall blond lady finds this remarkably attractive and i realise i am stuck with her for the night, she starts confessing her loneliness and her wealth. she's a walking disaster within a tragedy. to much cash and no imagination, to much investment in her real estate and possessions and nothing in her heart.
another girl who i say looks like an elf queen starts leaning into me, far to close and far to intimate for my liking, close up she looks more like some washed up porno actress than elf queen and for a moment i think i could at least play with her but she asks if i can buy her a drink, 'i don't drink and i don't like to buy drunk people alcohol.'
she thinks i am crazy, leans in further and adds, 'but i'll make it worth your while.'
'my whiles are already worth it.' i reply.
there's a terrible sadness here, i gaze around at the drunk women all being ignored by their men or being pushed around and left at tables in tears, all being grabbed and kissed and then dispensed with for another beer or a slap on the back from the male rituals, i see the drunk dramas played out amongst them, some petty argument exaggerated so it actually becomes something it's never was, i see endless cigarettes being smoked with an energy only alcohol could fuel and endless empty minds vacantly staring into the bottom of their glasses, i see the karmic lines across the air, the sorrow of privilege, these people have so much yet they waste it, abundance yet nothing. ignorance corrupts everything here, there is no life force present no vitality, no innovation, no ideas, no freedom, the mindless zombies are infected with alcoholic narcosis, i seen this almost everywhere alcohol is sold, what a dumb drug, what a stupid pastime, drinking and the sports industry. i find it hard not to be judgemental, the facts are drinking is the white mans poison, the means that the american indians and the great civilisations were subdued and destroyed, as we are all destroyed by the big global industrialists, the karmic implications of alcohol are exactly like the arms industry and the pharmaceuticals. if your political or not, you still have the choice to reject these petty distractions. this is the clever country, the smart one, where beer is celebrated and encouraged, where drinking is a national pastime. i forget that sometimes. i forget how embedded it is in the national psyche. how drinking promotes violence and random loveless procreation. it's the social lubricant for the inadequate. i've been guilty of it, but i seen the consequences and learnt fast. i look around and wonder if this is what having a good time is. i don't really know what that means. i can have a good time without all this bullshit, does that mean i'm a freakazoid?
yes it does.
so be it.
i wave my freak flag high.
i have to escape but the tall blonde won't let me go, the elf queen grabs my arm, the birthday girl says, 'aren't my friends beautiful?'
i look at her, poor woman, poor sad soul, trapped in a poor sad world of illusion.i empathise with her, i wish i could liberate you but you have no will to be liberated, you have no wish to be free and assume the responsibility of freedom, you like your maya, your drama, your safe in it because you think it defines you.
i don't want to save her, i don't want to save any one, i can't do it anyway, it's far to late for saving people, everyone knows it subconsciously, every one feels it, maybe that's why they drink. there's no escape from the personal apocalypse, like an internal spiritual suicide bomber we are armed and dangerous. the only solution is the heart chakra, stand up for it, defend it and don't let the void extinguish it.
i look at my friend, he seems sad, like me he knows. he knows.
i tell him i am going and he says, 'i don't blame you.'
i slip out.