Not Really Human
“You can’t write if you can’t relate
Trade the cash for the beef for the body for the hate
And my time is a piece of wax fallin’ on a termite
choking on the splinters”
Loser by Beck
“I am the jigsaw man-I turn the world around with a skeleton hand
Say-I am electric head a cannibal core a television said yeah
Do not civtimize read the motherfucker-psychoholic lies
Into a psychic war I tear my soul apart
And I eat it some more.”
More Human than A Human by White Zombie.
You could pick any of a hundred songs about losing touch, withdrawing and not realizing as NiN once put it that you were “further down the downward spiral”.
I knew I had withdrawn from everyone, my wife, friends, lovers, family, priest, rabbi, and choirs of demons. Even some of my closest professional inner circle. The world even for me had become myopic and highly guarded.
And like my strung out childhood rock star idols the fact my reality was not reality and my all consuming activities were increasingly isolated to a select few had never truly dawned on me.
I may not have been Nikki Sixx alone on Christmas day trying to get stupid high (a reference from his autobiography Heroin Diaries). Yet in my own way i was close.
I knew it had happened but did not know how bad I was until on a lovely early summer Monday evening I got to see Alice for the first time in forever. And then stared at her blankly, other than a hello and basic things, as Beck put it I could not relate.
I wanted to, would have loved to be the funny, oddly charming perverted fucker of old. Where our conversation flowed.
At one point as she looked back at me patiently. I knew it was not going well, and was getting further and further from what she had hope for. It would have been easy but very hurtful if I retreated further into the safety of my work life and thoughts.
Now please don’t mistake this as intentional, preplanned, or in someway contrived. Oh I should have wanted to hurt Alice and would do so later but in the fun consensual kink way. In those moments I was not even close.
I simply had not been a normal person in almost 6 months. Recently elsewhere I used the word “damaged”. It can be a cruel word to use for another but using it as a way to describe myself does at times fit. Its like a Pole telling a Polish joke. Which I can also do based on part of my ethnicity.
Add to that that Alice and my communication had not been as frequent, it had been a few years since seeing her and a lot had changed for me. Lost relationships, new ones, and a few short whatevers.
Each of which had caused some changes in me. I’d like to say it was innocence lost…but on the upside there was nothing all that innocent about any of them. Even when I did behave the thoughts were not at all pure.
My heroin den was filled with spread sheets and numbers not drugs. My friends other delusional globe trotters no more rooted in reality than me. Everyone had been cast out knowingly or not.
She kept talking to me. Trying to draw me out. To get me to relax, let my guard down, maybe even breathe. You’d have to ask her but I’d bet it took 2 hours before I was not completely distant and cold.
It was my normal state.
It was the middle of the first set of scenes before I let go at all. And yes some of my baggage was still there but pushed back. Parts of who I was started to drift back out. If you look at the picture from “Alice Rides the White Knight” which was a bit later in the night I had changed back a little.
Yes she looks hot, yes I like the rope I tied for a change, but what I love most is my feet casually crossed to the left of the picture. And more so what you can’t see is I was leaning casually on a desk. Finally smiling, and laughing, and relaxed. Alice after all was tense enough for a small army after being forced to orgasm that many times with out a break with no way to escape or spare herself even for a few seconds.
Suddenly i was almost human again. Oh sure not a Nobel peace prize winning tree hugging hippie do gooder human. But Sadists are people too!