JASON #15

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When I woke up in a pool of sweat, I wasn't sure if it was because of my dream of last night, or the day that lay ahead of me.

Of what I could recall of what the old guide had said to me, I could only give in to letting go and trust in whatever higher powers had in stake for me.

As I stood in the bathroom to shave myself in order to leave the neat impression of a doctor, I was shaking so much that I cut myself three times.

Then I tried to meditate, which got me so much into mindfuck that I had to stop. Until finally there was still the one voice in my head, I was so well aware of, that told me to rely on the friends of the past.

Finally I really had this bottle of vodka in my hand that I had found in the mini bar of my room. I knew that this was not the sort of giving in that my dream guide had talked about. Just in the moment I was about to take the first nip, I stumbled. The bottle flew through the air, and I fell to the ground, with a pain in my right knee that sobered me up well enough.

"Thank you so much", I whispered through my clenched teeth, trying to be grateful for the stabbing ache.

I washed my face with cold water, found my eyes in the mirror, and tried to think of all the faces that had put all their trust in me, to get myself on the mission again.

I took a few deep breaths, watching myself, then I mindfully packed everything that I needed. I put on the doctor's coat and even put a stethoscope around my neck. I felt another time for the syringe and the barbiturates in my pockets.

I felt that this was definitely the last chance I got for proving that I was more than a hopeless case, that I had something like a purpose, that my existence meant something to the world.

Don't get me wrong, but in some way I felt like Arjuna in the Bhagavad Gita, when Krishna told him that he had to go for killing the ones he loved. Only the one I loved here was a girl I had never even met.

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