The Life of Jack - Love

She looked at me with those eyes, questioning, wondering, trying to see the good man in me. God knows she would be searching for a long time. I had a feeling she knew that already, like she knew me. I felt nothing but sorrow for her, had she nothing better to do with her time than look at me. I kept my head forward refusing the eye contact, I was here too contemplate not be social, there was another time for that. I was not one for mindless monotonous ear crushing conversations that lead to an awkward silence, forcing the feeling that you should probably move, I’d sooner kill her than move, but not in broad daylight, not at this time.
Here, was my view, my space where all my thoughts can drift out to the welcoming sea and be smashed into waves of the deep ocean never to be seen again. This was my Nirvana…..
I kept wondering if she had sat beside me intentionally, trying to annoy me or just a mad woman seeking attention. I reached into my pocket and held the ice pick tight in my fist flicking my thumb over the sharpened edge. If she was going to do this staring thing, there was gong to be consequences……once I had got her back to mine!
Time to smile I thought, not to hard, just a gentle easy friendly smile, followed by “Hi, lovely view, no?”. She smiled back and nodded with elegance, there seemed to shimmer a beauty, like an aura around her, radiant and gentle, soft and….‘Wow, wow, hold it!’, I thought, this wasn’t me, what just happened. I wiped that disgusting ear to ear smile I had plastered on my face and quickly turned to the ocean this time hoping it would take me, crushing me in the waves, never to be found.
I felt sick to my stomach and had to hold back from launching the ice pick straight through her throat. I could imagine her suffering, looking at me helpless, holding her neck unable to speak, chocking through the blood running into her lungs as she tried desperately to breath, with her big greeny gray eyes staring up, begging, pleading, wishing she never had set eyes on me.
I smiled as I felt the warmth seep through the darkness again, I felt the blood pump so softly through my chest, as I breathed in that sea air, I calmed back into the Nirvana and savoured the kill. Even if it was all in my head, it was a pleasure close to sex, if not, even better.
She slumped back in the seat as I chose to ignore her smile and piercing eyes, such a horrible woman, sitting their with her thoughts of ‘Lets be friends’, ‘Lets talk and pretend we give a shit about each other, lets smile through gritted teeth and wear our mask of a caring humane humans’. I could feel the horrible suffocating light inside her trying to feed my own malnourished dying flicker of a hopeful flame. She disgusted me!
Her attempt for my attention non-the-less did intrigue my curiosity. In my life I had came to an understanding that most people who had my attention usually had a purpose, and only usually known or found at the end of their miserable illusion or delusional concept of a life in which they are changing my being. Which in fact they are moulding me and my many thoughts, understandings and way of my present life.
Although I understood that possibly she could have a place in my life, possibly she had a meaning and quite possibly her importance may be one of a muse and part creator of another state to be found inside myself by an ignorance, I would turn to my own positive. I just couldn’t turn my neck or face to even acknowledge her.
I couldn’t understand the process my body was doing, I felt strange and angry and hated her, loath her, I want her remains to be hung forever to a tree and for myself to entertain a torture she would never be free from, her very own God and she will be grateful! Grateful that I will rid her caring self, that in her state of love she will never prosper nor gain an once of hope from this fucked up world of demented souls, who only care about death and hurt, and bask in the glow of destruction and frolic in the beauty and power of everlasting hate and violence. We are a race of murderers and ones who crave revenge on the murderer, bred only into this kind of blood thirsty society….there is no room for love friend!
This is the truth of life. Not what this big eyed bitch has made in her delusional state of being.
I nodded in agreeance of my own thoughts and admired my insightful and truthful self. I felt enlightened and empowered that my knowledge had not swayed in years, it had grown but still held the same values.
I laughed within myself….this was her purpose.
I couldn’t believe it, it was so simple and unexpected, yet it’s purpose was undeniable.
I let a smile crack across this face I had left serious with hate and torment of this woman. It all made sense, like a bad joke that had to seep in through the cracks of the retarded.
I had to thank her, I couldn’t let the tool just sit there if like she were a mere dumb tool, I had to show my appreciation of her usefulness.
Not only that, but she had to finish her destiny, she had to take the consequence of her caring self and accept her kind ways to me were more than helpful.
I turned around my head to the right of me where she still sat, like a brooding teenager, with a petted lip. ‘What a poor little dog’, I thought. She turned to face me and immediately a smile caressed her face, as my own face resembled what I could only call a smile, not perfect, crooked and maybe weird looking, but it was one of thankfulness without the words.
“Hi”, I said looking at her eyes, with the admiration I had five minutes ago. I now realised it was in the process of my spiritual walk that her beauty shone upon me, only to draw attention to my doubtful self. Where their was nothing to doubt, I was still the God, the perfect man I have grown to be, with my perfect mind.
She never spoke to me, just smiled.
She looked at me with those eyes, liked she wanted me carry on, waiting for the next words to come from my lips, she just stared at my mouth. This was different, this woman, I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was something different about her? I once again felt weird in her presence and looked for an escape…..nothing…I couldn’t just leave. So I carried on with my thanks, like a play gone wrong.
“So….I’m Jack, do you come here often?”,
Damn!! I can’t believe that came from my mouth! How stupid I was, that is chat up line for men without a life or a talent in their soul, for the sad and pathetic, and here I was saying the same. And I sure as hell are not sad nor pathetic. This was uncomfortable to say the least, I shook my head in disapproval of juvenile words, and prepared myself for the exit I had just handed myself…..
As I looked at her, one last time before I walked away, I seen she was just smiling and had offered me a hand. I…I didn’t know how to respond. I hesitantly reached out for her hand as I stood up, think a shake would suffice for this brief meeting to come to an end. As I gave her my hand, she stood up and locked onto my right arm and hugged it, like it was her favourite teddy.
I was lost, uneasy from this affection, it felt like a dog had grabbed my leg and started humping it. I felt like trying to pry her of as I stood towering above her. At that moment I wish I could have just kicked my leg and let her fly in the air and be crushed by the welcoming ground.

The Life of Jack - Love


Dumbarton, Scotland, United Kingdom

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  • Artwork Comments 24

Artist's Description

I really have to put something up tonight.
This extract is unfinished, it would be to long anyway, so the devision of it into 2 parts is probably the best idea.
In this the title says all, but how will Jack react to his feelings.
As always any comments you’d be appreciated, I myself thought I ran this out a bit, I can’t tell, so please let me know, I would really appreciate any input, thanxz friends ; )

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