That’s how you reach nirvana.
I was a rock star in a past life. Sometimes it resurfaces. I walk up the slightly hilly driveway, seems like miles. The pressure builds from my groin through my fingers and toes. The stainless steel door stares at me. I’m nervous but I wipe it away because I remember that I am a rock king. Inside awaits my rock queen.
The door opens and I can smell her beauty seeping out of her skin. She smiles and for a brief moment, she is mine again. Reality is virtual and my imagination sprints. Exhaustion, nay, reality kicks in and thus the struggle.
“It’s been a long time. How much more of this can I take,” I wonder silently.
Beyond her I can see the musician who loves his jazz so much he takes it everywhere he goes.
A sudden thought bounces into my skull.
“Doesn’t anyone else ever just want to instantly die?”
For lack of a better word or words, my soul leaves my body and I can watch and analyze my life for brief moments at a time. I can see how ridiculous and childish I am and how absurd it all really is.
He goes to her in the doorway and embraces her, inhaling her pale brown skin like it is the only oxygen in the world. And she shudders for an instant of pleasure and weakness that he can faintly hope is real before she remembers herself and that she is in control of everything.
He can’t really see it, blinded by the absolute beauty of her insane eyes and delicious bosom. But he is most drawn to her control … like she is drawn to his lack of it. He is an impulsive and fiery angel of chaos with nothing to give but every single bit of life. It is sputtering and troubling and damn right fucking beautiful but he cannot see any of it. He feels it in stages and it is draining and loveless and then there is this darling and crazed woman who has the ability to consume his unquenchable light with the darkness and madness of her control. And they can’t even touch either, not really, anymore for fear of something supernatural and inexplicable.
But he doesn’t know any of this shit. All he sees is that he wants her and that he needs her and that he loves her. It’s so simple in his head and he doesn’t understand her recoil from his touch. All he feels is the control as judgment.
That’s how you reach nirvana.
I’m nervous. I am the sun. Everyone sees me shinning fire from everywhere they are and yet my only hope is to get by inconspicuously conspicuous. Until I spot the moon. She is blue with peace because she understands the world needs her to drive mad the tides and fuck with beastly werewolves and give cover to the freaks. She is a divine beacon of absolute anarchy.
And so it is freedom to me to see her and all the nervous angst dies like I so often wish I would. We hug and eclipse one another so that no one can see the fragility of which both of us are built.
Men and women pour into the moon and sun their hope and dreams and schemes and project their better and worse selves unto them. It is no different for me as I seek all wisdom and answers about my internal chaos from her. Luckily, she is filled with wisdom and insight and love. She knows exactly what I am and takes it with ease.
It’s a freedom I cannot entirely fathom but can truly accept. And so I embrace the beast in me. She pours and we adore whiskey like it’s champagne. And we drink champagne like there is no more whiskey. Thankfully we are blessed with the ability to love all extremes and every single goddamn thing on earth. No topic is off limits and none feels awkward or torturous to discuss or live.
Once again, soul leaves body and I can understand that he will never see that there is no beast in him.
He is the beast, who wishes he could control the human inside of him. More importantly, he is the quintessential duality of man. Everything all at once. He is the fiery sun and cool king of rock. He is impulse and control and death and life and happiness and strife and rhyme and dissonance. He is equal parts the super indulgent slave of the darkness and the light.
It’s a war, not a battle. He cannot win. He is all the good and all the bad that fucks things and fixes them and takes care of her and burns bright with her because it’s all happening all at once. He needs to be free. He needs to be tethered.
The queen. The moon. That’s how you reach nirvana.