This is a true story, only the names have been changed...
Down in the psychedelic hope factory where omelettes are made by breaking eggs and ‘life is the best excuse to feel good’ so said the note that was stuck to the fridge in the kitchen, the adrenaline morph was in the large open space that was used as the living room and reading a book on how to milk cows with both hands which wasn’t doing him much good but it gave him something to do in between times that had been going on for longer than he could remember.
Quantum anti theory was sipping coffee and had just woken up from a nap and was looking around for her friend the quintessential agreement but didn’t see her anywhere and so fell into a heavy dream where thoughts were turned like the pages of a book and were as heavy as donuts.
Over in the corner was a dumpster-found large Victorian-brown wardrobe that had a skinny door with a skinny mirror. Inside the wardrobe was the ‘guru’ who was sitting in the lotus position on a fat cushion and meditating by using the techniques his guru had shown him to go inside and experience for himself what there was to be experienced.
As of late he was having trouble with his mind where his thoughts would churn and churn and the more he tried to apply himself to going inside the more troubling his thoughts became, so much so that there were times he was driven to distraction and would have to get up and go get a cup of coffee in the kitchen and find someone to talk to, to talk out the pressing urgency his thinking had driven him to only to find things not so urgent after all when he began talking.
So this time when it happened and he found himself talking to the quintessential agreement in the kitchen the realisation came upon him that he’d been caught hook line and sinker in the trap his mind had thrown up.
“Are you in your head again?” said the quintessential agreement shaking one of her array of shell beads in front of his glazed eyes, the little bell on the end tinkling merrily.
The sound of the bell brought his attention back to the moment and again he realised his mind was playing hell with his journey to enlightenment.
“I’m having trouble with my thinking too much,” he said waving away the beads.
“We all have that problem now and again,” she said. “The trick is not to pay them any mind.”
“How!” he said forcefully which startled her momentarily.
“Well, for me when I’m thinking too much I try to remember I’m not my thoughts and so don’t identify with them, that way I can listen to them or not as I choose. Often when I’m being mindful my thoughts come and go like clouds in the sky; I let them come and then I let them go and just be in the moment,” she said, dreamily.
A moment of clarity unfolded as their thoughts drifted by like clouds in the sky and they found themselves grinning at each other in the sunny kitchen.
Into this vibration of stillness and lightness of being came the adrenaline morph bringing with him a shroud of boredom from reading too much while waiting for his life to begin.
On seeing the two friends in their sunny moment a look of anger crossed his face and jealousy invaded his soul to see the girl he fancied being so intimately happy with someone else.
The closed circuit of his ego, trapped in lustful desires and concepts of wrong thinking spilled into the kitchen and brought the vibration down. A dark cloud passed across the sun and plummeted the kitchen into gloom.
The quintessential agreement shivered in the sudden chill as the guru took her hand for comfort in the onslaught of emotion that was building up and threatening to be a storm.
“What’s going on?” said the adrenaline morph in his barely controlled anger.
Fear is shaky stuff and blocks off all connection to inner stillness and had the guru firmly in its grip. As he fought with it he found it swirled around him and wouldn’t let him go.
He closed his eyes and squeezed the hand that was holding his that squeezed back in support. In the grip of fear with his eyes closed and holding the hand of the girl beside him the guru was unable to respond to the adrenaline morph’s angry question.
The quintessential agreement was appalled at the behaviour of the adrenaline morph and refused to form a bond with the outpouring coming from him and so didn’t say anything either which only served to fuel the anger that was building and making the space an uncomfortable place to be.
“Answer me,” shouted the adrenaline morph in the confines of the kitchen, the vehemence of the shout so loud it hurt the ears in its psychic barrage, but as no contract was formed with it, it rebounded to become a sourness in the mind of where it came from.
This sourness grew to become a self-sustaining form of illusion with a weight of darkness that closed to all understanding and compassion and where no light could enter.
Madness is formed in this way and can lead to terrible acts of destruction and justified by its self-fulfilling nature of psychopathic thinking.
Terror is a phenomenon that freezes the sensibilities into inaction in its initial onslaught and it is not until the fight or flight mechanism engages that any movement can come into play.
Seemingly against terrible odds that seemed insurmountable and threatening to crush the very life essence into submission the guru rallied himself.
Reaching deep within he found the strength needed to open his eyes to face his fear and not a moment too soon, for coming at him was all he’d ever dreaded in the form of all the monsters he’d ever made in his own mind to frighten himself with...
The kitchen of the psychedelic hope factory was no mean place ordinarily and normally meals would be eaten together around the big wooden table that could hold ten at a pinch or fourteen in a squeeze and once it even held twenty screaming children.
Over the years it had had much good use and the names carved into its surface bore testimony to that, so when two men locked in the embrace of a deadly struggle bore down on it with the force of a tornado the wobbling legs gave up the ghost and collapsed to the floor where the struggle momentarily lost momentum and a silence came to see what the damage was.
In this silence, the kitchen door creaked open.
“Greetings and herbs to you one and all,” said the quantum anti theory walking into the kitchen through the door for a change and coming across the frozen scene of the collapsed table with two men holding each other on top of it and a woman standing nearby, looking on.
The woman, named the quintessential agreement for her dazzling beauty that usually brought out the best in anyone who came near looked up at quantum anti theory with some relief.
“They’re fighting again,” she said and moved closer to the door in the lull.
“He started it,” said the guru from beneath the weight of the adrenaline morph who was still angry and wanted to throttle the guru to end the problem once and for all.
“What have I told you two about fighting indoors?” said quantum anti theory upset now at seeing his beloved table beneath the pair come to such an ignominious end.
“He was stealing my girlfriend again,” said the adrenaline morph unrepentant about the damage caused.
“I’m not your girlfriend, and I never will be,” said the quintessential agreement who was far from agreeable at that moment and decided to leave them all to it.
She exited the kitchen and went to her room and sat on the bed and wondered why men were so crazy at times.
“Why can’t everyone just get on with each other?” she said to the cat that came over to her a purred around her legs.
Feeling lethargy descend over her she curled up on the bed and drifted away into a troubled sleep.
“I think you two had better seriously consider leaving for good,” said quantum anti theory to the pair who had picked themselves up by now and were surveying the wreck of the table.
“Maybe it can be fixed,” said the guru appalled at what had happened.
“Yeah, I can fix that,” said the adrenaline morph flexing his muscles and ready to get fixing.
“I told you both the last time that if this happened again you’d be out. Well, you’ve gone too far this time and so I want you to leave,” said quantum anti theory sadly but with a finality in his voice.
“But...” began the guru and got no further.
“No buts, pack up your stuff and get out,” said quantum anti theory and left them to it and went to his room and sat on his bed where he found himself feeling heavy and so lay down and was soon asleep.
The pair in the kitchen said no more to each other and with a last departing look at the destroyed table left the kitchen and went to pack for their journey away from a place that had welcomed them once with open arms but now was closed to them and had no more to give but a sad farewell.
What happens next will be told in the next part of the story...
Image from Pixabay
