Streams of Consciousness

Fallacy

        Lightning struck across the sky. Like branches of trees painted in the dark, black of night. White, blinding light. Yin, female, darkness, femininity, passivity, and the earth. Then a spot, and Yang, male, light, masculinity, activity, and the heavens. I was in the negative, the antimatter. I saw everything, and nothing at all. I was only in the Yin, and the lightning was the one spot of Yang.

        Have you been shocked before, with electricity? Maybe you've stepped out of a car on a cold winter morning, and touched the car door, or your friend had the box of gum that had a piece waiting for you to grab, and it turns out it is a gag little thing that shocks you. Now think about that shock, traveling up your arm and to your head, your brain alerted of the shock. You get an odd little felling for a little bit afterwards, the shock awakening you. Imagine that pain, but constant, non-stop, and ever-flowing. Your head is alive with electricity, and you see white and smell something, like air being blown directly into your nostrils.

        I do not know how long I was in that room, nor how long I was being shocked. All I remembered was lightning. A day in the rain. An umbrella in delicate hands. Soaked red coconut scented hair. Strawberry lips against my own. Our tongues danced together. My shirt soaked, yet I didn't seem to care. We danced and danced, and kissed when the feeling overcame us. Neither willing to pull away. When we did, we were empty souls, waiting for the warmth of the other. I couldn't see her face. She was always turning away, and I was trapped.

        I woke up back in my room, chained to my bed. I had a pounding and blistering headache. I could feel it at the bottom of my skull, almost a liquid sitting in a basin, moving when I moved my head. I could lay to the side and the pain would follow. I tried to force myself into the bliss of sleep, but the pain kept me barely awake, just enough for me to wish I no longer existed.

        "Good Evening! Nurse Joy is here to tend to your needs!" I heard the nurse say, and she flipped the light-switch on. I screamed and the pain in my head increased.

        "Oh shush shush! Here is a warm wet rag!" she said cheerfully, placing it over my forehead. The pain subsided a bit. I heard a chair drag up to my bedside, and felt a hand pat my head. Each tap felt like a hammer on a nail.

        "I had a son once. Just. Like. You! He was such a sweetie. I nursed him, and took care of his every need. Then he grew old, and didn't need Mommy Joy's care anymore! I never saw him again. Now I have you, and everything is better now!" she said, cooing me and cradling my head. As creepy and weird as the nurse was, I felt bad for her. She only wanted to feel like a mother once more. She was rather soothing though, and alongside the warm rag, I fell back asleep.

        —"Your love is nothing to me. You make me feel empty. At first you were a fire, burning my heart bright, but now you are an ember on a concrete slab, cold and ready to drift in the wind, to crumble into nothing!" a woman yelled at me, and swung her hand to slap me hard in the face.

        "Oh baby, don't leave!" I said slyly, giving her a pat on the rump as she walked away.

        "Jack off!" she screamed.

        "I will be sweetie!" I yelled after her. At least, I think it was me yelling. The man that I was, or that I was seeing, was much older than I was. He looked very similar, for he had the same hair, same face, but different eyes, and a different nose. His eyes were an ocean blue, cold, bottomless, dark, and daunting.

         "Why must you socialize with the trash? You have a fine woman at home," a voice next to me asked.

        "A woman is like a new car, Andrew. At first it is a thrilling experience, and you want to ride it to the ends of the earth. Then, it gets old. It starts to look beat up and sags, always asking for new accessories and upgrades. Why waste money when you can get a new one?" I said.