at home, I wondered how my mind could have frozen as it did. How could I have allowed myself to take the life of a good friend and lover? The dream provided the answer. I was working for a greater good than myself. I was working for the human race as a whole. Representing, as the young folk say. And it was time now for me to fulfill my destiny and discover the true meaning of life.
Page 75
Chapter Sixteen
Cristen was essentially a good person. She was fun and intelligent and caring. But she had bad genes.
I guess I figured this out the same way those bastards sense my submissiveness when they head toward me on the sidewalk. It’s not logical or rational. My foreknowledge concerning Cristen’s future effect on the world came instinctually. She was the first; she took the longest to figure out. The others wouldn’t fool me so well. I hung on with Cristen for a long time because I resisted and because I had been in love. I vowed not to make that mistake again. I didn’t want to admit my place in the world, but the dream was far too strong to fight. Business has to come first when you’re a savior.
And let there be no mistaking it, that’s exactly what I am. I felt confident. I had fate on my side. I was careful, though, especially in the beginning. I could not be certain that the fact that I was a force of good necessarily made me less expendable. Even at only one percent of the population, there was still a hell of a lot of us, going purely by numbers. I didn’t know how far nature would go to protect me. What I had learned now, finally, was the reason behind my superb intelligence. I would never own the world, but I would help define the parameters of its existence.
The best part was that there were others out there who felt just like me. I wondered how to meet them. I wondered if I would now recognize my coworkers by sight. My dream was a revelation, and I couldn’t be sure what else had changed in my life or in my capacity for power. Suddenly I felt immune to the smaller issues and tribulations that worry normal people. Liquor could no longer hold me hostage. Cigarettes could not cancer me. Why would nature waste resources to kill one of its own? The only thing I had to fear was my own kind, and possibly my own mind should I not keep it together. The alcohol helped there, too.
Page 76
I needed to look the part. Someone in my prominent position should not look like a businessman.
I wanted to look like an agent of nature. It was necessary for me to become objective, transient, and unnoticeable. I traded the loafers for sandals. I cut my hair very short. I took to standard blue button-down tee-shirts. It was no time for pride in one’s self. My own ego had to take a back seat to the welfare of society at large. We had grown too big for our britches, and I was the atom bomb that never was. I was part of the P\
pièce de résistance in a changing and mysterious world.
To whom did I owe this great honor? Is this why I suffered as an ugly and unpopular kid and then as an ugly and unpopular man? Was it all just to create a sense of discipline and objectivity within me? I felt sure of it. Suddenly I felt terribly empowered. Everything began to make sense. I stayed in the apartment for two days, and then I packed a bag.
Normal possessions were useless and irrelevant to me now. The rules had changed, and items such as photos, knickknacks and thingamajigs would only weigh me down. I spent one full night cradling my most precious and longest-owned possessions. I needed to get it out of my system. Finally I packed my bag with the items that would serve me and my objective: booze and cigarettes. I needed to stay calm, and—short of prescription drugs—smokes and booze are the best tranqs you can get. I first packed a large duffel bag, but I felt this would slow me down too much. There might be people after me. Some might not understand. There are a lot of naive fucks in the world—the same people who are locking
Page 75
Chapter Sixteen
Cristen was essentially a good person. She was fun and intelligent and caring. But she had bad genes.
I guess I figured this out the same way those bastards sense my submissiveness when they head toward me on the sidewalk. It’s not logical or rational. My foreknowledge concerning Cristen’s future effect on the world came instinctually. She was the first; she took the longest to figure out. The others wouldn’t fool me so well. I hung on with Cristen for a long time because I resisted and because I had been in love. I vowed not to make that mistake again. I didn’t want to admit my place in the world, but the dream was far too strong to fight. Business has to come first when you’re a savior.
And let there be no mistaking it, that’s exactly what I am. I felt confident. I had fate on my side. I was careful, though, especially in the beginning. I could not be certain that the fact that I was a force of good necessarily made me less expendable. Even at only one percent of the population, there was still a hell of a lot of us, going purely by numbers. I didn’t know how far nature would go to protect me. What I had learned now, finally, was the reason behind my superb intelligence. I would never own the world, but I would help define the parameters of its existence.
The best part was that there were others out there who felt just like me. I wondered how to meet them. I wondered if I would now recognize my coworkers by sight. My dream was a revelation, and I couldn’t be sure what else had changed in my life or in my capacity for power. Suddenly I felt immune to the smaller issues and tribulations that worry normal people. Liquor could no longer hold me hostage. Cigarettes could not cancer me. Why would nature waste resources to kill one of its own? The only thing I had to fear was my own kind, and possibly my own mind should I not keep it together. The alcohol helped there, too.
Page 76
I needed to look the part. Someone in my prominent position should not look like a businessman.
I wanted to look like an agent of nature. It was necessary for me to become objective, transient, and unnoticeable. I traded the loafers for sandals. I cut my hair very short. I took to standard blue button-down tee-shirts. It was no time for pride in one’s self. My own ego had to take a back seat to the welfare of society at large. We had grown too big for our britches, and I was the atom bomb that never was. I was part of the P\
pièce de résistance in a changing and mysterious world.
To whom did I owe this great honor? Is this why I suffered as an ugly and unpopular kid and then as an ugly and unpopular man? Was it all just to create a sense of discipline and objectivity within me? I felt sure of it. Suddenly I felt terribly empowered. Everything began to make sense. I stayed in the apartment for two days, and then I packed a bag.
Normal possessions were useless and irrelevant to me now. The rules had changed, and items such as photos, knickknacks and thingamajigs would only weigh me down. I spent one full night cradling my most precious and longest-owned possessions. I needed to get it out of my system. Finally I packed my bag with the items that would serve me and my objective: booze and cigarettes. I needed to stay calm, and—short of prescription drugs—smokes and booze are the best tranqs you can get. I first packed a large duffel bag, but I felt this would slow me down too much. There might be people after me. Some might not understand. There are a lot of naive fucks in the world—the same people who are locking
Similar Books
