Stair Steps :
I’m truly sorry that you had to end up here, but I do suppose that I am sort of glad you did… in my own strange way. I normally don’t like being around people, but recently I’ve been wishing to chat with someone to the point that it’s almost been suffocating. Would you like a drink? Here I have a Sweedish vodka, some very nice dry white wine, spiked lemonade if you’d like something sweeter, and look! Australian red wine… one of my favorites! Though you may think me morbid for saying so, red wine reminds me of blood. I know what you’re thinking, red wine is not really blood-red so much as it is garnet. But for some reason the subject of blood slips into my head every time I pop the cork off of a sleek bottle of delicious red wine.
What is it about blood anyway? It is used in every horror story, gushing oozing splashing pouring and drenching. Monstrous tales always have an annoyingly exaggerated surplus of blood. Blood makes people uneasy… it makes the weak of heart faint and squeal, but for what reason? What is blood but a liquid concoction, an oxygen transporting juice that is pumped through our system to sustain our brain, and yet it causes so much terror. Why? I just don’t get human beings, I don’t understand them at all. It’s a good thing I am beyond a human being. I’m nothing close to a god of course… but I’m certainly no human being. Granted I was one at a point in time, but I suppose intelligence has brought me upward a stair step or two. Though you may think of me to be conceited, I sense that you aren’t too far away from climbing a step yourself. It’s truly a shame, there just aren’t enough people like you in the world, and of all the places you could be you just had to end up here. It is a true shame, if I was more patient with the universe or if you had confronted me a few years before now I just might have shown you how to move upon the stair steps. It really is a pity. Well, on a somewhat related note to the subject of blood we were previously discussing, isn’t red a pretty color? I mean, blood turns brownish and crusty eventually, but the crimson is so lovely while it lasts! Scarlet is my second favorite color, right above a warm grey, and right below iris blue.
Speaking of blue… (please excuse me, but the florescent color has boarded me upon another train of thought I wish to discuss) What are eyes?: gorgeously complex organs that transform particles of energy into attainable images. But I have to admit to the awesome nature of eyes, I even have an established theory that It’s not the universe in and of itself, but instead it’s the eyes we own that contain all beauty. If your interested I have recently published a book called “Clouds or Ceilings,” that briefly discusses this theory. Have you read it before? no? Oh, what a shame, It would have been a nice read for someone like you. I would even go so far as to say it would have helped you climb a stair step.
Where was I?… eyes, now I remember, as beautiful as they may be they are only organs! And somehow organs, those simple pieces of wonderfully functional flesh, are another overused prod in a cliche attempt to expel horror. Intestines strewn, guts hanging out of corpses, but mostly it’s the eyeballs hanging out of the sockets. Why? What’s the big deal about eyes? They aren’t horrific, they’re beautiful, even when displaced. They’re like the gemstones within the dull hunk of granite we call a skull. So don’t worry, I assure you that I am not so cruel as to deprive someone of their eyes while they still breath, I’m a gentleman… at least I try to be a gentleman. Some people still insist that I am only odd… and many of the people that have stumbled into your exact same position have insisted that I’m insane, but I have no worries. Odd people always think of the normal as odd while the idiotic make out the intelligent to be idiots and the insane see the rational in the same manner that the rational see the insane. Only God can distinguish us, and until then we can only attempt to figure each other out on our own… a very risky measure indeed with plenty of variables that lend themselves to mistakes. In fact, my supposition about your high intelligence that I laid on the table a short while ago might have been totally false, you just might be the same imbecilic human being that continues to turn every nook of the world into a putrid and unlivable mess. That’s why I contain myself here. Do you see now? This is why I live here in solitude, I must keep myself above humanity. To keep my mind preserved have to keep this place clean of any insanity or idiocy, I must keep it clean. I’m sorry, but I can’t take any chances, I must escort you out.
But first, one more question: why is it that most humans don’t like to be removed while they call the ones that remove themselves unstable or even insane. Stupid creatures, I’m sure that any other plane of reality would be better than this one, please don’t tell me you are so dull as to be afraid of what’s over and beyond the dingy wall of reality! Then again, you may only be afraid of the process of being escorted out, in which case I shall make the path to infinity as smooth as possible… out of courtesy. Good day, and good luck my dearest friend. I’d join you, but I can’t… I must stay here and keep my household clean for as long as possible as I climb these stairs.
by sweet, solitary step.