Seven Demons Aidan Truhen (reading an ebook TXT) 📖

—

I don’t understand death at all it does not make sense and I have seen a lot of it but the more you peer into it the less you get it. People who die don’t go anywhere and there’s no mystery about it they just stop talking to you and stop doing anything else and it’s really shitty if you like them because there is not them anymore.

I don’t get how that works.

He had a horrible sense of humor. Had. Had had had had had.

I used to do this at school. Where Jack had had “had,” Volodya had had “had had”—

Had had had.

And that’s all it’s just a part of—you know—it’s normal.

It’s completely normal.

Turnover is normal it is part of the conventional challenges of human resourcing in a dog-eat-dog sector.

This is what it is.

This is the life.

I’m not upset like personally I am just—

It’s professionally upsetting is what I’m saying like it’s inappropriate it’s—

This is not okay man. This is not okay. I am legitimately unhappy with the loss of a key man—a KEY MAN in my organization. That is a term of art there are contracts with those words insurance policies and shit it is professional to talk about a key man and that is all.

There are consequences in this situation there are bills that come due and there’s a—

That’s crime Jack. Someone always gets no chicken.

Right?

That’s just how it is I’m fine.

I’m fine without my Ukrainian chicken.

—

I meet some of the anarchists and they are quite nice although they all have these ridiculous names and shticks like I guess—though they would not like this description—they have anti-capitalist personal brands which speak to their personal struggle so for example Loob is a greasy little fucker like an emaciated seal and he does underwater welding as for example you would do on tanker and oil rig maintenance except that Loob is opposed to all such structures which are acts of violation toward Mother Earth and he is her warrior; Rosa is tall and thin and has a face like a kindly camel and she makes cakes for the mass of mankind and I greatly approve of free cakes; Fruit eats only a fungal preparation he makes himself, which he says is the future, and I have tasted the future and it is horrible; Thing has much hair; and we do not ask about Thong.

Ever.

—

The anarchists are kind and they know we are sad so after some mammal grooming behavior to let us know we are welcome in their space they leave us alone. We eat cheese and bread and we drink beer and we lie down in the bed. I think she drugs me but maybe she does not. Sex can be life-or-death it is both and humans are chemistry and Doc understands that in ways I do not.

I feel her skin against mine as I wake in the dark. My leg does not hurt. I feel as if I am on fire. So does she. We do not speak. She is all over me. She is in my mouth and on my chest. She is behind me and in front of my and everywhere and she is happy and then she is not. I don’t know how long it all lasts. It feels like hours but half the time I’m not there.

Then she lies next to me in the dark.

“Doc?”

“Jack.”

“Volodya—”

“Yes Jack.”

“But I mean—Volodya. I mean there is not Volodya anymore. Not ever.”

“Yes Jack.”

“I don’t understand how that works.”

“No.”

“Doc do— Never mind.”

“No Jack say it.”

“Doc do we have a future?”

“We have a present Price that is all anyone has.”

“Yeah but they also have a future do we have one of those too?”

“Price of course we have a future.”

“We do?”

“Do you want to know how I understand the world Jack?”

“Yes. I guess.”

“Every single one of us changes and vanishes second by second and when you wake up tomorrow you’ll be someone new and so will I so in a very real sense you and I were born together and we will be together for the rest of our lives. You are the only person I’ve ever slept with and in this moment between night and morning you are the only person I have ever known or will ever meet.”

“Jesus Doc.”

“What?”

“That is some nihilistic fucking shit right there.”

“It’s the truth Price and the truth is all the beauty there is.”

“Jesus.”

“Price?”

“Yeah.”

“Think about it.”

“No one exists and no one knows anyone? It’s like gazing into the fucking abyss is what.”

“Do you know what else it means? It means that death is meaningless. Death only happens to other people.”

“I dunno Doc I feel a close kinship with me.”

“So do I. Don’t worry. See you and I we’re a rhythm and a way of doing things and we are a dance. Ripples is what. And for as long as we are who we are we will dance around each other. The moment we’re not is the moment we part but that person—that person who does not feel what I feel around you—that person I have no feelings for she can fuck off and so can he. You and me Price we are the Universe.”

“Aw Doc!”

“Shut up.”

“You made a science pome about me!”

“Not what happened.”

“A romantic free verse pome with science.”

“I swear to you Price you better do some more sex stuff to me now or I will kill you.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Hhhhah ahh uh nnnm. Yes.”

“You made a pome.”

“The gluteus and quadriceps muscles are among the strongest in the body I will rip your head clean off.”

“Yes ma’am.”

—

And then we sleep and then it is morning and Volodya is still dead and I am not fine.

Beyond the obvious there is a problem here like an organizational problem like in terms of information availability and compartmentalization. That is to say that certain facts are privileged within the organization and our close partners in our enterprise and it is worrying very worrying that these facts may have been revealed to third parties