omg

Oh Overman how I need your presence! Brothers, sisters! I speak to you from the valley below into your great minds and into the realm of all conscience. Fare well to those who have forgotten, now that the mind of Zarathustra has been adjourned into our psyches. We need this man for God is dead. He lays in a ditch somewhere in the Hollywood forest, enjoying his reverence in peace and quiet. The way of the people must ask themselves question on hope and desire, pain and frustration and unlimited epistemology. For I am a humble man, I speak to you from the underground, cursing the way I am. Why can't I be like Zarathustra? A man of all body, soul and spirit. The man that is Superman based. Oh Zarathustra, heed my prayers. For I am defenseless when it comes to the opposite sex. In love, I am futile. It hurts me to speak, for the words get tangled and my theories become meek. I walk along the incandescent road and I see the people in their homes, raising thy kin and distorting their future. Are these the men you sprach of Zarathustra? The embodiment of raising an heir, but I cannot. Not yet. The prowess of my feline speaks to my libido. It is wild no doubt. Oh Zarathustra! Why have you forsaken me! Why do you make believe when all I want is answers? Not questions but more answers. It is different for everywhere I go. The Brahmins and the Aztecs. The Greeks and the god forsaken Ottomans. When will they listen?

I ride my bike to love them more but I cannot reach the pedals yet. I am stuck in a world of the wanderer and his shadow and all too human. This bike cannot pedal itself and my legs have shrunken into tiny peaches, driving forth the ability to reach none other than a biased floor. In one night it could be over, or in one night it can start anew, I saw her beside me in the mirror, a woman at my side. The martini flowed down and I stared at her with my cursed eye. I cried and trembled inside and she just sat their, admiring her chips and dip, forever lost in the world of televisions and cell phones. These are damaging devices. Made by the ones in control. The Overmans and the Anti-Christs. The heathens and the virtuous. Act now and don't be a fool. Or just the idiot in the bathroom, speaking to himself in tongues while looking in the mirror. Having a conversation that will end up as vomit at the bottom of his shoe.

News flash to 3 martinis later. Hey baby wanna come back to my place. My ma ain't home and I have the most perfect idea for a card trick. Why don't we mess around like we used to? Bring a case of wine. I will love you. Lemme buy you a drink, you know it's cool. I don't see a ring on your hand so it must be fine.

Her 2nd drink. What's this asshole on? He can't shut up. Anything I say might make him think I like him. He's kind of cute. Nice smile. Big lips. Probably a knockout in the sack. I'm lonely too, it's not just men who feel the urge of bonding. Let's see where this goes.

Last martini. Sorry if I said something wrong. These gin baddy boys makes a man go cuckoo. Makes me tawk in tungues. If you need a place to talk more, we can grab a coffee. I need to sober up anyways. There's a Tim Horton Hears A Who down the street. Maybe grab a bite to eat. We can do whatever you want to. I need the fuel to make my fire bright.

Her 4th drink. Fuck, I'm supposed to be meeting my friend. But he's genuine and he can hear me think.

Let's go to Tim's and come back if you need to meet someone.

How the fuck did he know?

He scratches his cheek. I'll get you my phone number, just don't be a prick about it.

I won't. I'll call you in the morning. See if you got home safe and sound.

I leave with her number on a napkin. I wonder what she was thinking. If I made any sense at all or just speaking through headphones my senses have created. The inner ear of the undead. I walk in the snow and it's cold outside. I get home fast and I look at the napkin. Finally making napkins worth the weight of the world.