Chapter 3: Ephemeral Stimulus

This is chapter 3 of my short story “UNEDITED” which I wrote a few years back and just decided to share. It doesn’t have to make sense now. 

Masturbation is my emergency relief. It doesn’t solve my long-term issues, yet it makes me feel good temporarily. As the donor and the victim, I feel that I’m doing something good and I appreciate that goodness. Deep inside, I hate the donor for her sporadic and brief help, and the victim for her ongoing dissatisfaction.

This emergency relief tranquilizes and sedates me. It puts my anger on hold, and my thinking mind in pause. When the shortage and emptiness start to build up, arousal comes out of nowhere to postpone the revolution.

Feed the hungry one day. Calm the masses for three days. Slam silently the uprising. And repeat.

It’s scary to vomit the truth. What will be exposed? My biggest fears, my deepest secrets, my sickest thoughts. She told me her story while we were having lunch. Her stepfather stole her virginity when she was only 12 years old. I didn’t know what to say. “Oh wow! that’s awful,” was my stupid response.

I went into denial and forgot her story. Why was she telling me this just after a week of meeting me and at a fast food restaurant? Was she trying to teach me a different side of Canadian history? She is now stronger, though. What else is to say after so many years of enduring pain and internal catastrophes?

It’s as if we came to this world to become stronger. To face our daily human nemesis, to protect ourselves from our lovers, friends, boss, mom, or stepfather? I know. This is life.

Sometimes I think that we don’t actually need more love. We’ve loved so much, we’ve believed so strongly, we’ve been betrayed and disappointed. I don’t want your love! I need your understanding. I don’t want your peace! I want to talk, discuss, and face our demons. Tell me you’re all feeling the same. The solitude, the hopelessness, the insecurity, the anxiety, the fear of death and life at the same freaking moment. Why don’t we all agree that we disagree on each other lives?

It’s scary to face myself.  I’m tired of evading my deepest unhealthy patterns. What will be left of me? Will I actually feel liberated after releasing my own demons? Do we all have demons? Do I sound too religious when using the word “demons”? What the hell is a demon? Is it  just a creature? a source of evil? a malevolent being?…