Death of the Adonis

As Jim sat waiting at the dentist's office, he saw the book which had always escaped his perusal. It was the only book lying there, all the rest are magazines, which aren't what he would read. Recalling what the dentist's receptionist told him about the long wait, he decided to pick it up, telling himself, "it is destined to be read by me, today." For some cosmic reasons, Arthur Miller’s  “All My Sons,” has always found its way to him. Jim felt like this book will keep showing up until he actually reads it. I guess there is no escape this time, he thought.

After glancing at his watch... 1:13 pm, Jim opened the book.  With his fast reading skill, he was already halfway into the book when the nurse summoned him inside. Jim sat impatiently while the dentist poked and drilled and rinsed and cleaned and drilled again and filled his aching molar. At last, when it's all done, he got up, came out, and approached receptionist. He asked to borrow “All My Sons" home, promising to bring it back before the clinic closes tonight. She agreed without any hesitation. Jim always has a way of getting anything he wants from practically anyone.

He could not run to the Starbucks around the corner of Fifth Street fast enough. Once there, he quickly ordered his usual mochaccino and sat down on a lone sofa seat next to the window facing the road. Within 15 minutes he was done with the book. He could not believe what he had just read. He was so appalled by the extent to which one human being could be propelled by greed and negligences. To have been the man behind the decision that led to the loss of so many lives. He shut the book in rage, and got up, ready to go return the book. But all this realization suffocated him so much that it sudden gave him a slight light-headedness that he had to sit himself back down again for a few more minutes. It was like 90 seconds of no consciousness. His life flashed before his eyes. He saw his wife brutally attacked. He saw his son crying in the corner. He also saw his staffs begging for mercy. He was overwhelmed with the need to make things right. He knew now what was to be done. And he must do it now. Starting with his wife.

After dropping off the book at the clinic, he stopped by at the florist on the way home. He ordered a bouquet of  red roses, Linda's favorite, and then stopped by at Godiva Chocolate Bar, ordered one box of chocolate covered macadamia, and headed home, with apology speeches all tumbling and  jumbling inside his head. While pacing home, he also called to make dinner and movie reservations for two. As soon as he reached the end of the lane where his house stood, Linda  greeted him at the door. Jim handed her the flowers, the box of chocolates, and, kneeling down in front of his wife, he moaned, “My dearest dearest Linda, please forgive me. I have so mistreated you in the past. I have neglected you and have turned a blind eye to your wants and needs. I have abused you and caused you grieves. I always saw myself as the center of everything. I never once considered your longings, nor your happiness. Yet, you have always stood by me and taught me to be kind. I am a changed man. From now on I will spend my whole bringing you happiness and comfort as much as is in my power. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”

That was the easy part. Of course, Linda forgave Jim. What else what she supposed to do? Despite  all his mean streaks, as far as she’s concerned, he is still a good man. And now that he has had his sudden enlightenment, it made her love him all the more. Linda had no idea what brought this on, but she was glad he had said what he did. Jim had never ever apologized to her in their 22 years of marriage. She could feel it deep in her heart that something profound had happened to her husband. She is certain that from this point on her life will never be the same again. Her days of woes is finally in the past.  Jim, however, would never imagine what was in store for him. The biggest challenge is yet to come.

In 1977, Jim received his first blow, which was his massive turning point. It triggered something in him, which led him on the road to becoming a sociopath. Jim was just a sophomore student, he had gone with his dad to the community fair near the city zoo. After a fairly enjoyable evening, when he was climbing back into the car, he accidentally dropped one slipper onto the road and wasn't able to pick it up, His dad started the engine, commanded him to shut the car door, and sped on. He squealed, "One of my slipper fell! It's on the road!"  Dad turned sideways and used his left hand to slap Jim hard on the face. Smack! Jim was so startled by the severity with which his dad's palm landed on his right cheek.

When the initial shock faded, something churned inside Jim. This "something" enveloped and engulfed him to the extent that he began to feel hatred for all human beings. With this loathing grew extreme self love. He could not fathom why a cheap flip flop of barely 50 cents could stir up such rage in his dad. Right then and there, he found salvation for this utter confusion. He knows now that he is superior to all mankind.

No one really knows how one single event can dramatically trigger something so drastic inside a person. Maybe a monster was already lurking in the deep dark corner of Jim's psyche. Maybe it was just waiting for the right incident, or the wrong incident, to be accurate. Or, maybe, he was born that way, with his genes all screwed up, and this particular happenstance was just a red carpet laid out for the Adonis to walk down.

Jim picked up his iPhone 5, and dialed Eric's number. No response, as is expected. Jim and his son have drifted so far apart that Linda had already given up any hope of ever reuniting them. Eric, too, had given up on his dad. At some point, his dad's narcissistic parenting streaks became so unbearable that Eric had to get up and  leave home without giving his parents any forwarding address. He also forbid his parents to contact him in any way, threatening to change his number and disappear if they refused to comply.

Realizing the futility of trying to call his son, Jim decided to write him an email.
(to be continued..)

Duh!

Who's up for some Universal Truth?

Doesn't really matter if you're broke or loaded, down in the dumps or on the stairways to heaven. Heartaches, sickness, death... these are all inevitable truths of life. Ego and pride don't serve.

I say.. Humble up.. (Oct 1st, '14)

Thoughts

"Acceptance does not necessarily mean reconciliation. You can accept someone and, yet, ban them from your life." -T.K. (Sept 21st, '15)

Thoughts

"Life is not a contest. Your pain counts as much as anyone else's. Don't minimise your hurt by thinking others have been hurt much worse." -T.K. (Sept 20th, '15)

Random Thoughts

No one can have the best of both worlds. There is always a price to pay. You win one, you lose the other. It's just a matter of which one you choose to lose, and which to win. (Sept 16th, '15)

Random Thoughts

When you're in sync with someone, the sky seems brighter. Whenever you are alone and you notice all the beauty around you, you are self complacent. You are one with yourself. You don't need anyone to make yourself happy. (Sept, 13th, '15)

Benign

Benign is really not benign. Benign is, in fact, subjective.

Skin color is of no relevance. Yet, skin color is the cause of too many deaths. This dark theme is hovering in my mind. How can something so small give rise to something so tragic? How can something that should not be an issue, be an issue?

Politics and leniencies... they don't mingle.
Discriminations and incites... deadly heights.

She was Sacrifice. She was Humility. She was Love. She was everything.

There she was. BOOM! There she wasn't! Gone! Shot in the head by some brutes on a motorcycle!  And for what? Power? She was 88 years old! What physical pain she must have felt when the bullet plunged into her. She could be your mother, your grandmother. Such atrocities! BENIGN! The very word is loathsome! After all, it is just a tiny bullet. Powerful and deadly to the core.

It's been going on for a while, the threats. But she would not have with the bodyguards. All because she appointed her son as the successor?



Now she lies, clothed in white.
Now she lies, devoid of light.
Soon she will be dust,
Soon she will so rust.

A better mother has no one seen.
Some worse brutes there have been.

Man's quest for power,
Man's road to doom.

(Can one man's quest for power actually be the doom to another's?)