The Next Big Thing

you didn't even wanna come home with me that night, i swallowed my pride and almost begged you. the lack of life in my eyes caught your attention and you came. on the ride home you rested you head and i was happy to have my lap full. every pothole we hit didn't register. it was one of our last times together (i never saw it coming), i pulled you aside when we got back to your house and i asked how you felt about me. you kissed me like you had always wanted, like when you dated that chubby philanderer - as i'd come to call her - and i wouldn't be within miles of you. none of it mattered because you failed to answer the question. it had become my bible, i studied it until my eyes drooped and died, they couldn't see clearly. and you kept on living like our production had never existed. nothing ever pulled on you, got you frantic - it all did to me. they all thought just because my lifeless body was still breathing they shouldn't put me in the ground. boy were they mistaken. i was low enough and i was done living. peace might have come had you tossed your fistful of dirt over top my grave.

i didn't really want to die, but i really didn't wanna come back to life. however, i misjudged the presence of religious zealots, and overestimated the revelations they would all suddenly have after the initial shock of my blessed miracle. one night too i had a dream that the government seized me and took me to an abandoned lab furnished with faces frozen in time. they ran tests on me, but that was never the case. i woke up feeling less convinced i'd be the governments number one target. the zealots terrified me though because i had nothing to prove, but i was aware they'd force my participation in spectacles. it had always had success with their transgressions and how the choose to spread the word.

when i came back to life is an impossible moment to describe. but i imagine it felt something like being jolted by those paddles dr's use to restart your heart.
in my case however life had slowly built backup over time but i only realized it in one quick instant. just like that i took everything out of the drawer and got it back up on the shelf and if you come over today and saw it i'd make sure to tell you i did it all without help.

Q:

A: whenever i see something exquisite and beautiful i'm compelled to steal if for you. yesterday it happened to be a thermos with gems encrusted on the top. the day before that it was this delicate scarf with the loveliest print. you wouldn't even want them, but they'd fit so perfectly along side you. still, i never actually run off with these things because who would i give it to? i suppose i could place it on top of your grave, beside that headstone.

A: oh don't act like you didn't know, they must have told you. it's the plot i created after the idea manifested in my head - the plot to end all the plots i'd been leaning on for comfort. or just to keep my balance so i don't fall from this into you. and i figure the grieving will stop if i give you a proper burial and an honest eulogy. i'll no longer yearn for you once you're decayed and rotten like the actions you've taken.

A: and to answer your question i did feel somewhat like Ray Kinsella, except this was a shallow grave where only you would rest with all that i bequest to you. and i didn't dig it so you would come, i dug it so you'd go. everything will be much better once you're down below.

A: of course i'm sure it wasn't dug with a time capsule in mind. what, so i could extract it all in good time and indulge myself in you? i'd end up toiling instead, repetitions of all the horseshit you've said. so, i just patted down the last heap of dirt, you will rot there and never be unearthed. unless a scavenger comes to eat the meat off your bones, to which i wouldn't object. what? the meat must be good cause you ate me alive when i fed off your lies.

A: if you resurrected i'd beat you back to death, or...stay in my room and allow you your space? okay of that i'm not sure, i haven't though that deep. no, i'm hanging up now, going back to sleep.


Aside: the arrangements have been made, we can't be saved.