It is a minor thing. Insignificant. Some would say trifle, but I would refrain from troubling you with something so useless, so base, as this. You can do without its troubles.
Your life. Yes, yours, and yours, and of the fool over there. Behind the –other- fool.
So why should the hassles, the daily, dour detriments dispose of your dutiful diligence from dawn to dusk? What? To many ‘d’s? I agree. Better words with ‘d’ anyway. Death is an elegant choice. Destruction? Derisive? Oh, oh! I know.
Devour.
I suppose it is only fair, not to mention polite, for a host to introduce himself, or herself. Especially if they have already sat at your table, taken to the warmth of your bed’s occupants, occupied your time and monies and plied the resources of your existence as a plow taken to fertile soil. Oh, do not worry. Nothing so drastic. It’s all just drama for the sake of craftsmanship. Oh, oh, another two words that begin with ‘d’.
Hyperbole. Theater.
Of course I exaggerate. All part of my novice, infantile efforts to push my points ahead. Make some breathing room in your head, so to say. Oh, such a dinner. But you are smarter than that. Nobler, more experienced in the way of life and you have obviously seen past these sophomoric attempts at emotional subterfuge. I am an amateur, while you, the master of observation. Verily, I do not even consider myself a beginner. Less than that. Dirt, actually. Plain, sweet, freshly tilled dirt sprinkled with crushed rose petals siphoning what little water they can before decay takes root.
Just between us, as the old friends we are, and I am trusting your discretion here, I am…nothing.
An utter zero with no intrinsic value.
No substance, no influence; no methodical, diabolical approach to scheming or pilfering. I’m incapable of it. But they sure can twist that knife hilt when it’s deep in your back, scraping the insides of the ribs, digging little trenches in there were we can hide all the better.
When you work and toil, the indescribable sensation you know something wrong is coming up behind you to salute you with a friendly smile, you are safe with me. That is I.
When you pray that something will not find you when you try your best to hide from your sins or fears, you will find succor. That Is I.
When you sleep, that nagging feeling of something in the dark edge of the room, breathing close to your forehead, keeping you awake because you fear closing your eyes, I will pray for your dreams. THAT IS I.
When you hear the faint, whimpering cry of your youngest one, behind a locked door you can’t get past no matter how your axe bites the wood, that cry that fades only to be replaced by the disgruntled crunching of soft scalp and tender, squamous bone…
Run, lunch. THAT. THIS. I. I will help you swing that axe to break through.
Oh, do not worry! It is all exaggeration. As I said before, showmanship to inspire a response, nothing else. Your children, your life, they are all secure behind your doors and shuttered windows, your religions and xenophobic wards. No need to undertake any dangerous, overtly distinguishing actions to deter undesired distractions. Oh, I am sorry. The letter ‘d’ holds a certain fascination to me. Don’t listen. Perversions and deviations are a fine liquor to this one. Another ‘d’ word that one should never ignore.
What? Who, who am I? No one! Nothing, remember? I am, like your life, insignificant. You probably think I am some deviant of the night; a remorseless beast. No, no, no. You see me everyday between your “Iadul” and “nu”s.
The face of your neighbor. Succulent.
Friendly hand of your wife. Licking the vitae off in drops.
That inspiring look of devotion in the morning when your children see you first thing. Their eyes are so sweet to pluck and squeeze open.
That unrelenting friend that will guard your back against the disgusting atrocities of this world. The marrow of backbones are so juicy when harvested fresh.
I am so happy you invited me into your life! We all are. We all are. We. All. Are.
It is all drama, exaggeration, my friend. The only thing truly related in scale is my happiness about being in…your…life.
You stupid, stupid bastards. We’re going to need a bigger plate. Hehe. Hehehe. Hehehe. Hahahahahahaha. HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA....