When you didn't realize your ex was in the same room. (excerpt from My Megalomania At Midnight)

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a child retreating in fear…I ball up and sat in the far corner of the hole. I heard a car stop. Footsteps hit the asphalt amplified and combined with my heart beat. It created a drum beat, my personal anthem of doom.

 16

I’m back in the room w/ the candle dripping on the ceiling resembling a droplet of water slowly dropping from a faucet and rippling on the water-w/no laws of gravity, as it falls upward (upworld):

                                    “The REVELATIONS have no

ending, and this reality too is not a MYTH.”

John’s got a very serious look on his face-like a doctor telling a family that their loved one is dying from a terminal illness. His face is strange in color: off whit pale green. It is apparent that he has been caught up in an emotional angst-crying and screaming as if something he subjected himself too long ago will never give him peace at all.

“In Fact.” He continues, “It would be a myth indeed to assume that this revelation has an ending.” With that, we all gather around the candle and join hands. NOW, for once I’m in a vision of my freedom of serenity; activated through the mechanics of group prayer-

I squint my left eye to look for the fairy witch a wand to spread his majical prayer dust. But, I’m interrupted by Chuck’s mockery, “What are you, fucking gay?” he quickly jerks his hand out of mine. And with that we went into the pancake house.

   

riddled with a sense of desperation: stale cigarette smoke and burning grease. Yum. It is masked by ear to ear smiles that seem to be infinitely frozen with the expression “MAY I HELP YOU?” permanently etched into their faces. The manager’s cheeks were painfully straining a smile; especially after not getting a pay off from Katrina. After all that work and all she wanted was food. Use use use. Someone else, not even five feet away and coming closer and closer; I sense that they are on my same wavelength. Yet the difference is a severe psychotic split from reality.

                                    HEAD TRIP

                                                            it is as he walks among the empty tables and chairs he’s hallucinating that people from his past are in the chairs and tables; of course they’re talking about him. People like: his teacher from high school telling him that he’ll never amount to nothing, “Why don’t you pay attention. Those rhymes of yours are going to get you no where.” Kids in grade school that picked him to play games just so that they could painfully ridicule him; they just point and laugh.

John doesn’t even realize that he is leading the pack: Veronica, Fame, Fist, Chuck, and me pace quickly behind him. Chuck, looking zombified, is too stoned to have a response. Fist just keeps on flexing. Veronica says not a word because she’s focused on what to do next. Fame is writing something down on a legal pad. Veronica took care of all the financial formalities: tipping every worker there with a Benjamin.

I’m wondering what will happen next; then I got a familiar knot in my stomach. You know it’s that feeling of impending doom and I know that some kinda’ shit is about to go down.

I overhear the family talking as they quickly brush by us. The mother I’m guessing is like, “O’ MY GOD.” She definitely has spotted “Crazy John;” the one with delusions of grandeur “you’ll be begging to have me back when I’m famous.” Who are these people he is leading?

The chances of confrontation are better for her now; before they were 2 to 1. e-book Just her and her daughter against “him;” but now she had her beau. Wouldn’t dare put her in his harming path. All this time, I would hope for a happy ending; one where lovers were reunited and this part of the saga would have a redeeming emotional closure. They would embrace and say sweet words; and perhaps he would be restored to sanity if. If he could see her now.

In his mind he ended the hallucination of the antagonizers mocking him in the empty booths with the words vocally affirming “I know what is really what’s going on.” And at that time one of Katrina’s demons made himself known on the coast by crumbling a desolate nightclub into rubble and blowing off a “Harrison county” sign and carrying it into its air as if it were a helium balloon-The human meeting of two hearts is not to be…not at this time. Neither John nor Katrina knew of the other being there as they cross paths. It resembles the rock group U2’s rock video “One” when lead singer Bono’s words come out prophetically “We are one but we’re not the same”…and the video shows two cars passing each other going in two different directions. Her family exits and we sit down at our booth.

And as they hastily, by guidance of the mother, get in their van and speed away. While at the same time a deranged morgue worker in Pascagoula takes a cadaver and an FBI agent hostage, kills him, and drives the morgue van off of a bridge into the rising waters of the Singing River. Indeed, the van will possibly never be seen again and the cultist murders affiliated will be forgotten by the US and the world because they’re curiosity is now centered on how much destruction Katrina will bring. I wonder now if perhaps Katrina and John would have come to some degree of closure if the storm would cease. And, I’m very thankful that Chuck didn’t know that this was the woman that John was so delusional over. I could imagine that he would have made a sarcastic comment that would have totally sent him over the edge. It would have been some comment like “There’s your long lost wife you fucking loser. I can’t believe you were in love with that ugly bitch.”

As we were seated at the table, I’m also thinking that if that fairy with majical prayer dust would have been there he could have done some type of divine spell.