NOT ENOUGH PAIN TO GO AROUND FOR EVERYONE
“The only thing I want to do is kill her…” crying man tears, “kill her, she has destroyed me, everything that I have worked for, all that I have dreamed of having, and now, my marriage, my career all in ruins, help me doc, please help me.” Michael would have probably gotten more from Brad, his psychiatrist, more attention, more care, if he hadn’t used the word “Doc” it was such an ugly term, so lacking in appreciation for all those years of education and all that profound understanding of the psychological principles that make us all tick in the most intriguing of manners; but Michael was never sensitive to those things. Brad responded professionally, “Hey, hey, common now, this is not the Michael that I know, you’re more together than this guy, your bright, you got to where you are because you are good, others might have never done it, you’re not liking yourself right now but that is not a reason to mutilate everything that you have accomplished; just because Lauren comes into the picture and destroys it.” Michael still crying like a baby, “Doc, how can I not see it that way, everything is lost, everything, even Ann.” Michael could say “…even Ann,” in that manner that denotes that that certainly wasn’t expected, she needed me, I made sure that she needed me, how could someone that is a parasite abandon the host with such sureness of mind? That was what Michael was saying, Brad opted to ignore that as the answer might just force his patient to commit suicide and there was such a thing as a suicide rating, a secret rating among Psychiatrists, how many patients have you lost to their own hand? No one ever answered honestly of course, but every psychiatrist was subconsciously aware that even if they lied, they had to be within 20% of the truth or else; or else something which they didn’t comprehend would testify against them: The Akashic Records! These records never had a problem when a lie was within 20% certainty of the truth, but if it went much further than that, you would see the face of the person that is being lied to, doubting your every word, though not knowing why they are doubting you, the Akashic simply doesn’t resound the lie as a truth beyond the 20% margin for error that you are allowed, you can lie but you better not be lying all the way, the con man intuitively knows it. Tie your lies to the truth, build a lot of truth-based walls all around your lie, and when you have a lot of truth all surrounding you, you may then fool even the Akashic record, which means that you will get away with it, but telling a direct lie without farming it will certainly open you wide to the Akashic resonance essence that permeates through any of our gut instincts.
The Akashic record senses references and when you tell your lie, we all do a reference check to the Akashic, the Akashic then sort of doesn’t complain, or it doesn’t respond, if it doesn’t respond it means it doesn’t make sense and we lose gut touch with the Akashic record because a lie doesn’t have any real sense connection to it and so we react baffled, but we don’t know why, and some of us will figure out that this is a lie or that we are being fooled and some of us might have so much invested in the lie that we may have to believe it anyway.
After being called “Doc” Bradley probably wanted Michael to kill himself, there have been many psychiatrists that have already killed their patients by urging them on to suicide, a psychiatrist is the perfect murderer, this specially so when they have been lovers with their intended victims, you can hear their excuses to the cops, “terrible thing to have her go by her own hand, terrible, if only I could have helped.” Yeah Doc, you helped alright. But Brad was a very ethical man, and even though Michael was obnoxious enough, he just ordered electric shock treatment. “Electric shock treatment Doc?” “Yes Michael, it did get a lousy reputation for some time but now it is “popular” again and there have been some very positive and even impressive results, it is just not the way they used to do it, we don’t shock you like they did in the old days, we are gentler, the patient has to participate, you will be treated with great care, and any sign of distress will be dutifully monitored.” “Well Doc, if that is what is best, I trust you, you certainly need to help me stop thinking that killing Lauren is my reason for living.” Saying this you could see a cynical smirk drawing itself through Michael, Brad however ignored it, and quickly scribbled on his patient’s chart, “Shock therapy!” Just like that, with an exclamation mark, and more troubling for a doctor, he wrote it in such a way that any two year old would be able to comprehend it, “Shock therapy! Three sessions.”
Lauren, unaware that she had sent “kill me! Please kill me! Kill me please! Please somebody kill me!” notices to the Akashic Records, where sensitive and/or particularly insecure people could pick up the message and become unaware killers, Lauren was going through her own traumatic moment. Crying, gulping tears, her neck and eyes heavily swollen, the lamp in her hotel room partially drained from proximity to her, and Audrey, calming her, “It’s not like that Lauren, this is not your fault, you didn’t kill mother, you couldn’t have killed her, she died of natural causes, Lauren please you are a good person, you help people, I have always been envious of you, come on Sis, its ok, everything is going to be ok.” Lauren delirious, “no, NO, its not, NOT, ok, nothing is ever going to be ok anymore, bad things always happen to those around me, Loki cat is dead, and I caused Antoinette to kill him by listening to Habakkuk and putting her in jail, and now,…..” inaudible words barely reaching our ears, “and now I have killed our mother, I have killed her, I was the daughter that would bury her, I was the daughter that couldn’t love her, she deserved so much and all I gave her was grief….” Audrey “please stop blaming yourself, we all feel guilty after a death, it is normal you can’t call yourself a killer because someone dies…” softly whispering into Lauren’s ear, “…hey its now you and I kid, and we need to be strong for each other, we are all we got.”
Audrey was being as supportive as she could be but, “No, no, how could I have failed to realize that the explosion had taken my mom with it, the only remembrance of my mom that I had with me, how could I have allowed such violation, no, no,” heavy coughing, wiping her nose while her whole body trembled, Audrey feeling helpless, “Audrey she blew up my mother that witch, she blew her up.” That her mother had been cremated and only her carbon remains had been within the nine leaf plant was not something that Lauren could rationalize at this moment, Audrey let her cry while she packed up some of her clothes, then the bell rung. Audrey answers the door, a nun in a black tunic holding a rosary, speaks, “We’re here to help you Audrey, your church has explained everything, we have a comfortable place waiting for her, don’t worry, she will be with us and with God.” Audrey had called her church up and made arrangements for her sister to be taken to a catholic convent, Audrey’s church was not given to a particular faith, she was a pastor but she thought that her sister needed a place, for spiritual retreat, that would not in any way identify with the family, the two sisters helped her walk to the car, Lauren was too far gone to resist anything, even a spiritual retreat, the nuns did insist that she could not take her gun and holster, it was left in the hotel room for Audrey could not even bring herself to touching the iron death menace.
Why would Habakkuk be in a shopping mall now, he has certainly changed since we have last seen him, he is going down the automatic escalator, he is following the most gorgeous little girl, curly dark burgundy locks, brown eyes, she is toying looks at him; she can’t be more than four or five, has a darling face, and what appear to be nice parents, though who can tell now-a-days. The parents are busy hunting for a perfect gift that you don’t want to give, for the person that you don’t really care about, nor want to care about, but have to be proper with, and so they are mostly disconcertedly distracted through their social ordeal. Habakkuk, dressed very much like a pimp, with shiny black and white shoes, a stunning silk olive suit, a green artsy tie, and at least two rings that look to be pure gold from what I can see. While the parents are distracted, he starts to talk to the little girl, who takes an interest in his massive gold Rolex watch, she wants to touch it, he lets her, then while she is playing with it, he lifts her with one arm, teasing her, and telling her that she is the cutest little thing, and that he wants a little girl just like her, and even dares to ask her if she will be his little girl, and she smiling says “but I already have a daddy and a mommy.” “But do they have this for you today,” he takes out a Mickey mouse doll and places it right up to her little nose, rubs it, causing her to laugh, and before you know it they are in the parking lot, next to a black sedan, she wakes up from the fun and games and begins to cry, he places his hands over her mouth and gentle brown eyes, “now shut up, shut up, you can go back to your parents soon, first you have to take me to the white orchids.”
“Arrhahhahdhdh! Arghghhhghhg!” The shock of electricity bemoans having to go through Michaels body, “Arughthsush! Aifhfhfhf!” the energy feeling misused. Floyd, our EST Attendant, is indeed enjoying this, and enjoying this so much that he is not writing down all of the treatment sessions, to the point where there are still three left, three treatments left, and yet, “Akhshhshr”, But from those Michael bloodshot and bulging eyes and bleeding reindeer nose capillaries, one would dare say that he might not last the first official treatment; well for sure not with his brain intact. In this world there are people like Floyd, you wouldn’t like him as a person, he has the ability to be right about everything, he has the facts on everything and anything, he doesn’t need you for conversation, and he has never met anyone that he could not torture, including his wife which fortunately likes it; and while he might make a less than endearing friend, as an Electric Shock Treatment attendant, he is a fairly balanced and likable guy. “Akskksososohjdh!”
The Akashic record senses references and when you tell your lie, we all do a reference check to the Akashic, the Akashic then sort of doesn’t complain, or it doesn’t respond, if it doesn’t respond it means it doesn’t make sense and we lose gut touch with the Akashic record because a lie doesn’t have any real sense connection to it and so we react baffled, but we don’t know why, and some of us will figure out that this is a lie or that we are being fooled and some of us might have so much invested in the lie that we may have to believe it anyway.
After being called “Doc” Bradley probably wanted Michael to kill himself, there have been many psychiatrists that have already killed their patients by urging them on to suicide, a psychiatrist is the perfect murderer, this specially so when they have been lovers with their intended victims, you can hear their excuses to the cops, “terrible thing to have her go by her own hand, terrible, if only I could have helped.” Yeah Doc, you helped alright. But Brad was a very ethical man, and even though Michael was obnoxious enough, he just ordered electric shock treatment. “Electric shock treatment Doc?” “Yes Michael, it did get a lousy reputation for some time but now it is “popular” again and there have been some very positive and even impressive results, it is just not the way they used to do it, we don’t shock you like they did in the old days, we are gentler, the patient has to participate, you will be treated with great care, and any sign of distress will be dutifully monitored.” “Well Doc, if that is what is best, I trust you, you certainly need to help me stop thinking that killing Lauren is my reason for living.” Saying this you could see a cynical smirk drawing itself through Michael, Brad however ignored it, and quickly scribbled on his patient’s chart, “Shock therapy!” Just like that, with an exclamation mark, and more troubling for a doctor, he wrote it in such a way that any two year old would be able to comprehend it, “Shock therapy! Three sessions.”
Lauren, unaware that she had sent “kill me! Please kill me! Kill me please! Please somebody kill me!” notices to the Akashic Records, where sensitive and/or particularly insecure people could pick up the message and become unaware killers, Lauren was going through her own traumatic moment. Crying, gulping tears, her neck and eyes heavily swollen, the lamp in her hotel room partially drained from proximity to her, and Audrey, calming her, “It’s not like that Lauren, this is not your fault, you didn’t kill mother, you couldn’t have killed her, she died of natural causes, Lauren please you are a good person, you help people, I have always been envious of you, come on Sis, its ok, everything is going to be ok.” Lauren delirious, “no, NO, its not, NOT, ok, nothing is ever going to be ok anymore, bad things always happen to those around me, Loki cat is dead, and I caused Antoinette to kill him by listening to Habakkuk and putting her in jail, and now,…..” inaudible words barely reaching our ears, “and now I have killed our mother, I have killed her, I was the daughter that would bury her, I was the daughter that couldn’t love her, she deserved so much and all I gave her was grief….” Audrey “please stop blaming yourself, we all feel guilty after a death, it is normal you can’t call yourself a killer because someone dies…” softly whispering into Lauren’s ear, “…hey its now you and I kid, and we need to be strong for each other, we are all we got.”
Audrey was being as supportive as she could be but, “No, no, how could I have failed to realize that the explosion had taken my mom with it, the only remembrance of my mom that I had with me, how could I have allowed such violation, no, no,” heavy coughing, wiping her nose while her whole body trembled, Audrey feeling helpless, “Audrey she blew up my mother that witch, she blew her up.” That her mother had been cremated and only her carbon remains had been within the nine leaf plant was not something that Lauren could rationalize at this moment, Audrey let her cry while she packed up some of her clothes, then the bell rung. Audrey answers the door, a nun in a black tunic holding a rosary, speaks, “We’re here to help you Audrey, your church has explained everything, we have a comfortable place waiting for her, don’t worry, she will be with us and with God.” Audrey had called her church up and made arrangements for her sister to be taken to a catholic convent, Audrey’s church was not given to a particular faith, she was a pastor but she thought that her sister needed a place, for spiritual retreat, that would not in any way identify with the family, the two sisters helped her walk to the car, Lauren was too far gone to resist anything, even a spiritual retreat, the nuns did insist that she could not take her gun and holster, it was left in the hotel room for Audrey could not even bring herself to touching the iron death menace.
Why would Habakkuk be in a shopping mall now, he has certainly changed since we have last seen him, he is going down the automatic escalator, he is following the most gorgeous little girl, curly dark burgundy locks, brown eyes, she is toying looks at him; she can’t be more than four or five, has a darling face, and what appear to be nice parents, though who can tell now-a-days. The parents are busy hunting for a perfect gift that you don’t want to give, for the person that you don’t really care about, nor want to care about, but have to be proper with, and so they are mostly disconcertedly distracted through their social ordeal. Habakkuk, dressed very much like a pimp, with shiny black and white shoes, a stunning silk olive suit, a green artsy tie, and at least two rings that look to be pure gold from what I can see. While the parents are distracted, he starts to talk to the little girl, who takes an interest in his massive gold Rolex watch, she wants to touch it, he lets her, then while she is playing with it, he lifts her with one arm, teasing her, and telling her that she is the cutest little thing, and that he wants a little girl just like her, and even dares to ask her if she will be his little girl, and she smiling says “but I already have a daddy and a mommy.” “But do they have this for you today,” he takes out a Mickey mouse doll and places it right up to her little nose, rubs it, causing her to laugh, and before you know it they are in the parking lot, next to a black sedan, she wakes up from the fun and games and begins to cry, he places his hands over her mouth and gentle brown eyes, “now shut up, shut up, you can go back to your parents soon, first you have to take me to the white orchids.”
“Arrhahhahdhdh! Arghghhhghhg!” The shock of electricity bemoans having to go through Michaels body, “Arughthsush! Aifhfhfhf!” the energy feeling misused. Floyd, our EST Attendant, is indeed enjoying this, and enjoying this so much that he is not writing down all of the treatment sessions, to the point where there are still three left, three treatments left, and yet, “Akhshhshr”, But from those Michael bloodshot and bulging eyes and bleeding reindeer nose capillaries, one would dare say that he might not last the first official treatment; well for sure not with his brain intact. In this world there are people like Floyd, you wouldn’t like him as a person, he has the ability to be right about everything, he has the facts on everything and anything, he doesn’t need you for conversation, and he has never met anyone that he could not torture, including his wife which fortunately likes it; and while he might make a less than endearing friend, as an Electric Shock Treatment attendant, he is a fairly balanced and likable guy. “Akskksososohjdh!”
posted by Ricardo Correa at 9:43 PM
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