crazy/strange, ehab youssef [best feel good books .TXT] 📗
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- Author: ehab youssef
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- he was a writer. a famous one
- no. he was a sailor. may be he wrote, but he was a sailor.
the redhead was quareling fiercely with me, practically day in and day out. that's when i learned a very important lesson. all women are crazy, especially the beautiful ones. indispensable as they are, a man still needs a place to walk by himself so he may consult with the spirits of the ones who have passed beyond the shadows. so i took a calm three year walk across the meadows of the friendly whites only springs. before long i had reached alaska where the salmon was aplenty and the women were as warm as the smoked elks. there i had a chance to smoke the peace pipe and consult with the elders of the tribe who told me i was welcome to wait out the winter in their air conditioned cave if i had the beads i'd promised. the chief's wife interfered and betrothed me for her daughter who was dark and without peer. she looked as only a warm woman could look. the endless snow had no effect on her. the colder the weather was, the warmer her body became as she drew closer to me. and before the fire we were wed. then she knit me a black pull over and told me winter would soon be done. all dreams come from the place beyond the great wall of silence. all dreams had colors, but not all eyes could see, the warm one added.
- i came here for the water.
- what water? we're in the desert.
- i was misinformed.
it took me several moons to locate the accurate boots, but when it finally happened my feet were well adorned at last. back in my sand dune home the bullets continued wizzing by but the miraculous comic super heros along with the alliance of the realm of mystery who continued their work unabated. as i was approaching my home, with a camel no filter cigarette in my mouth, jesus appeared to me and pointed towards the mountain. imminently the mountain moved and jesus shook his head and said something about the lack of faith. before i could ask him to teach me how to walk on water in my new boots, he was gone. courage, man. the hurt cannot be muchwhen i had arrived home, they assigned me a new psychiatrist who in spirit and figure resembled the warm one. they figured if she can't treat me of my demons may be she could acquire samples for their new museum, but the memory of the warm one infused with the scent of the redhead intervened and the demons objected to the effort the new system was placing on the intel microchip. i was sad. and reverted to hallucination in my sleep to which none of the pills could cure. i called my father several times but his number was off the grid so instead i had no alternative but to watch old michael caine films and pretend i was the hero.we are not traitors. and the english will not hang us as traitors. and if we die, we will die as german paratroopers.journeys that previously had been a walk in the park now required hours. distances that were previously covered in mere minutes now needed hours. every step was pain. pain in the moment and pain later on. every breath was a humiliation. every day was solid inhumane treatment. the asphalt knew me and asked of my health. the crows still stopped to say hello. the trees danced and shivered in the lazy breeze. and the buildings were just as magnificent. that's when you learn the ultimate truth. the world is as you see it. everything reflects in your mirror. if your mirror is not polished, all the world is tarnished.a moment's courage and it is doneyou light a cigarette. you puff the smoke. glimpses of the movie you just watched run through your mind's eye. somewhere inside you a calm seated buddha is humming away peacefully. oooommm. another glimpse at the sky. heads you're good. tails you go for it. you pat the cigarette to the side, shedding old consumed tobacco to the ceiling. you toss the coin. you turn and look upon thy death. it meant nothing. yet for some reason it had to be done. you are part of something bigger, you see. something more than you can understand. there are signs. they should be observed. and respected. cigarettes are eventually consumed. movies come to an end. the way of the samurai is forever. wars come and go but my soldiers stay eternal. i stomp the cigarette under my feet. return the coin to the corner pocket of my jeans. and run for the last time in my life.
you quiver you dieyou quiver. you die. it's all clear now. the world is not made of matter. it's made of particles. particles of light. it's glistening in you eyes. right before your eyes. before you know it you are changing too. into colorful little particles of light. the journey begins.
voices. sounds. screams. cheers. the revolution is on. a sea of faces. screaming in anger. it's difficult to tell the color of the sky. the warmth of a million moving entities redefines color. the towering stalinist main feature gleaming in eternal dirt grey. the old buildings that thought they saw it all catching another day in the life of a city wrapped around a circular square. for some reason i thought of edward norton. "so many people moving the house moved".
she laid naked on the mattress over the monotone klim. the rest was silence.
the clouds roved the sky like massive white cities with an internal secret structure. the light blue skies seemed little bothered with this intrusion. perhaps it's time for another cigarette. i think of all the lies. i try not to think of all the lies. i inhale. the smoke disappears momentarily within me only to appear again before magically disintegrating into thin air. in the future we will live in cities floating in the air much like these clouds. ideas and emotions will float through digital neural networks stored by big corporations so we may remember who we were. logos will no longer be placed on computers or devices. they will be placed on your forehead.her thighs danced around me. the softness of her arms enticing me to be a man.the white fila hood. the nike shoes that saved my life. the dirty grey jeans. screams. chaos. blood.there was nothing to eat and nothing to smoke. i thought of burning down the house out of sheer boredom. but all the fire fighters were already too busy with the parliament.i quivered within her. i died a little. and her face disappeared in a white sudden haze.
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Publication Date: 05-15-2013
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