It is believed that there is no greater evil than the feeling of sheer hatred for another man. It’s also believed that hatred is misplaced admiration, hence almost harmless. Whichever one chooses to accept or embrace is based on one’s perception and experiences in life.
Back when I proclaimed myself an atheist and openly rejected the existence of a higher being because I didn’t believe in the supernatural, I was branded a blasphemer. To buttress my point and out of that insatiable urge to make an idiot off my accusers, I pointed out a few of the too many obvious holes in the stories and doctrine their holy scripts offered them. But when a plausible explanation couldn’t be offered in a way of their defense, they simply claimed that my problem was that I’ve read way too many books. But I laughed at them in derision and told them that it was them with the problem because they read too few books.
But now that the very fiber of the existence which I thought mine has been shaken, I am not sure that I can stand firm on my beliefs again. I know not what to believe in now but all I know is that reading which has always given me deep insight and understanding on the several mysteries and elusive nature of life has failed me.
It is very difficult to accept but even the happiest man, the richest or even bullies all have their own demons to battle. It is even more difficult to accept that a perfect life is a pipe dream because human wants can never be sated. Back when I was a kid, I once cried back home from school after my rich classmates mocked me mercilessly because we lived in the suburb. Pa wore a painfully patient look as I tearfully asked him why we couldn’t move out and live in a better environment. I remember the feeling of guilt, then appreciating and finally joy I felt after he quietly took my hands and walked me to the slums of New Orleans. He never said a word to me as he walked me through abject poverty and unimaginable living conditions others lived in; he never uttered a word to me after we got back home and to this day.
Like they say “Silence speaks volume”. A message had been passed and the lesson had been learned that day.
So I have come to understand that these so called demons are the substance to our existence, a necessary evil. Look around you, the rich want more riches, the happiest man will still have that little moment of melancholy slip into his life, You will mourn your existence and so crave for the life of others that by the time you realize you were better off the way you were, it would have been too late.
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It is quite ironic that several years ago I had detested my job, my life and craved for another because my boss had physically and psychologically bullied me at every opportunity.
For as long as I can remember I have always been a bully magnet. In kindergarten, nursery, elementary school, high school, college, even in church, name it, bullies found me everywhere. I guess being slightly overweight, cherubic looking and possessing a low self esteem must have contributed to it. My boss on the other hand was a sleazy well built ex jock that popped steroids like multi vitamins. He barely had peanuts for a brain and a pencil for a dick but was fortunate to have a wealthy father who put him in charge of a section in his company. On my worst days in the office, I used to console myself by believing that he tormented me because he was no match for me intellectually, but I also mentally slapped myself awake from my delusions and wondered again if he just enjoyed it because I could never muster the courage to stand up to him.
My boss wasn’t married then and still isn’t because he is now locked up in a mental home. But back then I used to think it was probably for the best because any lady who was unfortunate enough to get caught up in his sticky, deceitful and egoistical net would definitely end up his slave, no two ways about it.
On the other hand, my overactive mind sometimes entertained the unpalatable notion that he was queer and I was the main protagonist in his twisted sexual fantasies. I told myself that it could explain why he kept bugging me. You see, people had strange and uncomfortable ways of going about expressing feelings and the bugging ploy was usually aimed to annoy who they felt affection for into some convoluted plan to snare them on a hook and reel them in a senseless act of perpetual mental torture. Back then I hadn’t known whether to cry or laugh at my suspicions because my boss epitomized the word “Rattler”, and the mere thought of him merely fancying me in any form gave me penny sized goose bumps which signified only one thing, that I was horrified beyond reasoning.
My job as an accountant in a fashion house didn’t warrant much excitement. Filling up payment ledgers and nodding in acknowledgement to the models that came by were as much excitement as I got. I also hated the models too because I was perceived to be inconsequential and therefore dismissed with barely a wave. Tempting as it was back then to just quit my job and move away, I remained because it was financially secure and economically supportive. Moreover jobs were hard to come by those days because of the recession. So I therefore stayed within my uncomfortable example of a comfort zone which comprised of a bullying boss, my forever nagging wife and ever chirping two year old twins who never knew how to shut the fuck up.
On and on I bore it all till a by chance encounter with “Doctor Horowitz’s Imaginarium” where all dreams temporarily became a permanent reality in your subconscious, forever transformed my life.
The rotund and mystical Jewish Dr Horowitz claimed he combined a blend of an induced dream state, the manipulation of one’s imagination and mastery of astral projection to enable his subject temporary live any life they have imagined for themselves. Doctor Horowitz on my first visit stated and guided me through the rules of the Imaginarium before warning me of the dependencies and dangers.
He stressed that one should be calm and devoid of strong emotions before entering the Imaginarium because the Imaginarium on a subtle level also reacts to and fed off our feelings and emotions. He claimed that even he couldn’t tell what faith waited whoever unfortunately didn’t comply with the rules, for the mysteries of the Imaginarium outweighed any mans capacity for assimilation.
I must admit that the beauties of my experiences in the Imaginarium were quite overwhelming and against the warnings of the mystical Dr Horowitz, I soon became dependent and attached to my imagined escapes.
My pathetic existence continued as usual but the thought of Dr Horowitz’s visits enabled me survive with little felt misery until my boss crossed that proverbial line and subjected me to a public humiliation.
It was almost closing time on that unfaithful day and I had been rushing towards the loo to ease myself when suddenly I tripped and fell splat on the floor amidst the laughter of everyone who was present to witness my inglorious downfall. I got up to realize that my boss had placed his foot in my path but I had been too preoccupied with keeping my pee in check to notice. I was filled with so much shame and anger that there and then I decided that I had had enough of his disgrace. So I turned around and menacingly approached him in an attempt to physically confront him for the first time ever. His face showed surprise and a little fear as I approached him, then his eyes drifted a little down and his expression was replaced with disgust before he pointed and everyone started laughing, this time louder and more spiteful than the previous.
I was still seething in anger several hours later as I sat staring into the dreamy and hypnotic eyes of Dr Horowitz’s. I still couldn’t help but think of my boss and if shame was ever going to allow me return to work the following day. I shamefully remembered how all the courage I had managed to muster when I decided to confront him evaporated in a whiff after I realized I had soiled my pants when I tripped. I was so horrified and ran out of the office, never stopping, never knowing where I was going until I found myself in front of Dr Horowitz’s wagon.
Even now as I sat in Dr Horowitz’s chambers I could still hear the torturous echoes of their laughter in my head and just before I was finally surrounded to the beautiful embrace of my trance, I bitterly hoped we could switch place so that I could give him a dose of his medicine or he should simply leave or better still disappear forever.
In my trance, I briefly saw my boss scrutinizing my every actions with so much intensity before that mental image faded away to be replace with the laughing image of people whom my mind eyes couldn’t identify. They were gathered around and laughing at me while I lay crying in a puddle of my urine and excrement. Finally the warm and comfortable grip of sleep pitifully enclosed my consciousness and carried me away to oblivion, but still the faint echoes of their bitter laughter followed me on.
I entered Dr Horowitz induced dream state but this time it was different, very different in fact.
I was floating in the night skies with the celestial bodies speeding past me in a blur. The stars were scattered around but I couldn’t help but notice or recognize an organization, a pattern in their arrangements and for some funny reason it nagged at my consciousness. A little distance ahead from where I floated was a whirling mass of nothingness, a vortex swinging dangerously towards me. In panic, I began to desperately float towards the opposite direction across the night skies. I feared for my safety even when I knew it was a dream and that Dr Horowitz had warned me about it. He had warned me that the rules of reality and physics in dreams are of a totally different type, so I should tread carefully even though it was relatively safe.
While in flight I noticed a blur coming my way, a figure floating towards me in the distance, so I frantically waved for him or her to go back. When I drew closer I was astounded to see that it was my boss who was wearing this curious and perplexed look as I passed him by. We swiveled in unison to look at each other as the distance between us grew. I, silently appealing for him to come back, while he just stared until we eventually drifted out of each others sight. The night skies were huge and expansive and my floating alarmingly began to gather momentum like I was being suctioned.
Then I realized to my dismay that my boss had actually been fleeing from a similar vortex but it was too late to turn around as I was snatched away into oblivion where everything melded into a painless grey fog. The fog then wrapped around me tightly like a blanket and a tingly sensation assaulted my body before the grey became muted, then red tinted its shade until it became black.
All this I experienced within seconds as unconsciousness returned me into a dreamless void.
I woke up with a scream locked in my throat and tumbled to the floor in a thud. I struggled to get up and stumbled towards the bathroom door to wash my face. But something clicked in my head and I stopped in my tracks as it became apparent that something was horribly wrong. I slowly realized that I didn’t recognize my surroundings and then my body also felt alien. So I rushed into the bathroom to take a look at the mirror and the horrifying face of my boss stared back at me.
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I have since been violating his shell and living his life, while he was sequestrated in a mental house after he came back raving and claiming he was me and I was him. I have since been living a life I thought was better than mine, a life I assumed will fix all my inadequacies, a life I presumed would make a better person off me, but alas, I was wrong.
I have come to realize that we all have our place and purpose in life; we all have a place on the food chain where some are meant to be trampled on by others. I have learnt that we were made for specific functions and specific functions we must coordinate. I have learnt that if you force your way into where you do not belong, you will be faced with dire consequences.
There is a constant battle for supremacy between my soul and this body I have taken. Take for example, I constantly have to fight the body’s attraction for the same sex [my suspicions were on the mark, he was gay]. The body’s great dependencies on steroids and all has left me fighting a losing battle, worse of all, the mental and psychological torture I am forced to endure from his father leaves me feeling inadequate and sterile and with time I began to transfer aggression and pent up frustration on others.
I lived his pathetic life and began to understand the reasons for his actions. I feel so sorry for him because he even had it worse than me and I began to crave for my former life. It’s got so bad that I now look in the mirror every morning and weep because “I have become the one thing I detested most”
My Dark School Of Thoughts 
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