Eyeryones' gods

“There are several wolfs in each of us. Some are benevolent and good. Some are mean and evil. Be careful which one you feed most!”

Just another author

I am sure, you’ve had a deja vu before. Like, you’re totally stuck not knowing what you wanted to do a second ago – and suddenly you want to overthrow the whole world order. I keep getting more of those lately. Maybe it is a first sign of dementia. Yesterday, I wanted to feed my cat and I was absolutely sure, I had bought her favourite food at the supermarket – and at a discount on top! The thing is:

I don’t own a cat and never have. In fact, I am allergic to felines. The thought of a cat hair alone made me vacuum the house from the eerie attic to the damp cellar. It took me about four hours and after having sneezed more than twice in the moist cellar air I have caught a cold for sure. It is just waiting to break out, so to speak. I washed my hand twice as often as usual to make sure, I won’t get the shits on top.

Speaking of shits, today, my motherfucking imitation of a boss announced some of us would have to leave the damn company. He’d carefully consider! Of course! Bullshit, he does! Probably all fucking set and done in his head already. As if working my ass off all day wasn’t fucking enough! He’d better not “consider” MY leave! Won’t leave peacefully, will at least smash his shitty desk. Might as well smash a few of his fucking bones on top and shove ‘em up his….

Whoa, where did THAT come from? You see, what I am talking about. There is so much strange energy floating around. Later in autumn, I would suggest restless wandering souls from our forbearers but at this time…? The moon does not usually affect me in this way and it is waning anyway. But my aura feels kind of fragmented, some parts charging and decharging unsynchronized with the rest. Maybe I should ask the Tarot cards to enlighten the path ahead.

Or should I pray? Dear Lord, you will doubtlessly tell me to do so and place my trust in you and so it shall be. I will wander the path you guide me on and trust in my shepherd. You have a plan for me and I shall be your willing tool.

Maybe it is just Karmas’ way of telling me I need to change. Since I cannot change my superiors’ decision, I will accept what happens and act accordingly. Appreciate the now.

My wife wanted to go on a longer vacation since forever. So, I might just grab my notebook and my wife and we fly to… wherever that dart lands on a map of the world. How does that sound? Keeping my job almost sounds disappointing now. I would need a side hustle to make ends meet for an extended period, though.

Of course, I could always play poker at the local men’s club. I am bound to win large sums, once I can really focus on the game without all the usual worries of a workers’ life. There’s music and girls to be enjoyed. The tuxedo needs to be worn again. Stirred martinis need to be ordered. Some money has to be spent for the big gains to come. You wouldn’t want to associate yourselves with the small fishes.

Why have a plan a’ all? – Aslong’s there’sum beer inna fridge, evarthing’s fine. *hiccup* Oh, right. Missus gonna start shouting a’sum point. Uncozy. Missus important. Better sober up.

Of course, I could just leave on my own terms. I am damn good at my job. If the boss wanted to keep me, there might be a company car in it. Or a pay raise. Invested in the right stocks, I might make a fortune, become financially independent… and THEN live the luxurious life: the sun, a yacht, a nice beach, the two of us,… so many possibilities.

Is all of this real anyway? Or has artificial intelligence taken over? Our minds are being controlled by a simulation, simulating… well normal lives, or whatever we imagine as such, while our bodies are suspended in a nutritional fluid and harvested for its biological electricity, the only current currency important to machines. No, that is the content of a movie I once saw and no one “in charge” would have allowed this movie to exist, if it had been the truth. Unless, they were very sure, no one would believe it anyway, of course.

Aaah, my kitty just scared the hell out of me. Don’t you do that, my sweet little wool knot, don’t you ever… aaaww, are you hungry my sweet little predator? I bought your favourite food at the supermarket – and at a discount…. Where was I? Oh, yeah, I was telling you, I feel a little…. thin lately…. like butter scraped over too much bread. Or scratched out. Insubstantial. Like a sidekick in my own story. And I have yet to figure out the genre!

Maybe that IS the secret of the universe. We are all just characters made up in someones’ mind. Written beautifully complex if we are the hero of an intriguing tale or fading away as we get less explored or needed for the story. Sometimes they get really creative, like inventing Bruce Lee. And sometimes, they just need redshirts or cannon fodder. Hey, you, I am NOT cannon fodder!

Dear author, I hereby apply for being the willing or unwilling hero of my own story. Stop scratching around! Include my wife and cat! And let us talk about the kind of tale, this is going to be! Sincerely, John

Or is it just the beginning of dementia, after all?

Authors’ note: The application of John Wick was granted – although the cat was written into a dog for safety reasons. I am still indecisive concerning his allergy!