Finally, a panic attack. Thank god! It’s happening. I’m dying…
An hour later, rested, I made a nice old-school weed roll, toking on it with herbal tea, as finally, I could see the reason for all this stress. It’s not that I’m worried about the meeting itself, but I am afraid that Oina may betray me.
I thought that I was worrying about being captured and tortured forever by those tyrants. Nothing will satisfy the all-powerful oppressors more than capturing a free mind and burning him slowly alive. Not because it will resolve any matter, but because this is one of the rarest things that excites them. Then, I realized that was not the true reason, as it didn’t scare me after all. I knew that even if they would keep me alive and conscious with blood transfusions and humiliate me in every way possible, that would, in fact, deliver me. I would lose my mind to insanity. Then, there, where my consciousness was floating free, without all the noise of the physical world, there I would be free from everything.
They would kill me after that, as they would lose interest in the torturing, knowing that I’m not actually feeling it, but it’s just automatic screams and moans produced by a tortured body.
Death would be a gift to me, as I did give up my life when I was eight. Everything else I did after that was suicidal, trying to kill myself by taking every lost cause, so I could die with respect for my soul, and most importantly, with respect to my family that sacrificed everything for me. But that great death, unfortunately, never came. It did, though, elevate me to where I am now, as the gods are delighted watching me trying to throw away their precious life like it has no use to me. Therefore, they keep challenging me for their mere entertainment, as finally, they did find a unique show to watch, damn you all!
If capturing me is a possibility, then Oina must betray me, and that is impossible. But again, why not? Why believe in the exception when the exception is unnatural, as everything in nature is repetitive. That’s what my buddy the salamander is trying to prepare me for – betrayal. It will hurt me deeply, and it will be worse than any torture, decapitation, or the worst death ever.
I’ve already made the mistake of attaching my life to someone else’s life, a thing that I never did before. Therefore, I must experience the horrific consequences. I just want to believe that it can’t happen, even if it is very plausible, as she may choose their side knowing that they are going to launch a major, doomsday attack – and they may win. There will be nothing much left after that, but there will be a clear winner as the loser will vanish… forever.
That feeling of love ruins my judgment. It is nice, psychedelic, and sometimes better than the best drug out there. “It triggers when you meet the right mate. Nature developed this process to lure you from doing logical thinking” said the salamander, he is right, as that logical thinking would expose the sad and the tragic life of a family. Love diverts you from thinking about the suffering that you inherit from giving up the only thing that you really own – the freedom of being. That gift that will be exchanged for something useless for the individual but necessary for the species, the duplication into the infinity. That psychedelic effect also halts or misleads your most sophisticated sense, the sense of the projection into the future. In its full functionality, that sense would show you how hard and grievous your life will be when you limit your freedom, also when you will have to share your resources.
That’s why love is psychedelic. It shows you unicorns running on rainbows when you are in that state, it projects you into a completely absurd future where everything is pink with glitter.
Although one must admit that love is pure art, it is nature’s masterpiece. The fact that even a wise person would choose to throw his or her life away voluntarily, knowing that they will suffer immensely in the end, just to feel that pure ecstasy of love for some time, is incredibly unique.
That’s what I did… So did Oina.
I must trust her, or nothing will make sense anymore. I picked up my phone and dialed her number. It's ringing, but she is not answering. It's been like that for a couple of days. She is busy with the preparations. She is taking a big risk, too, as she will not inform the other women about the real scenario, and that is a high treason crime. Of course, she must know that it's only a matter of time until the other women find out about the meeting, and that time is not something she has in this case.
I wish I knew her before when she was younger. In my stoned daydreams, I picture us as ordinary office workers in some governmental program of pensions for patients suffering from the Borderline Syndrome, or something similarly easy. Something so boring that we don’t have to focus on it as a definer. And, somewhere in a far district where politics is a myth. A simple life where we could have time to meet often, call each other every day, plan a weekend…
I still remember how I met her. It was my first trip with an official delegation. We went to ratify some security treaties that no one cared about. It was already on the agenda and no one important had the time for that, so they
