The therapist let Fred take any seat he wanted. Fred was afraid of being “The Guy” seeing a therapist and laying on the cushioney couch like some kind of cleshe so he went to the chair by his desk.
“You can begin anytime” The therapist said.
Fred began to speak, but somehow, now the image of laying on the cushony couch seemed comfortable to him so he got up, still talking and laid down. Until that point he was only covering how he’d been and little facts about his life. But on the couch he felt snug and comfortable enough to really talk. Fred was a poet, and fancied that he would have been a good actor if he had applied himself to it. So naturally he had a flair for drama and big words. he spoke like this:
“I’m so plagued with desire.” he said “It’s a nagging; it’s an unstoppable torrent of Introspective meanderings, whimpering on gripping vices of whims. That- that desire can be as indomitable as some monolithic Buddha with the grey stone power to crush me one moment, and then in the next moment just seem like wisps welling on the wind”
The therapist nodded knowingly as Fred thought for a moment.
“What could conjure such a comical horror as to supplant a mind to chase desires and thoughts from one extreme to the other in this….It can only be a comedy. Life is just a satire of itself, our fleeting emotions and problems, our tragedies and dilemmas, are just the dilemmas of ants.
Truly, I hope that while i’m trying to grasp my desires or hold back on their pull with the madness of some kinda lone waiter trying to serve the world, that something cosmic is laughing at me. Then at least I’d know i’m doing something good.”
Fred stared at the ceiling as he spoke.
“When in a lonely night, the rising thoughts, and the panic, and the naked truth of my being arises from the distractions of the world… and I shudder without anyplace to cower; when you compare that to a warm night with the closeness of another and my mind is propped up with a fools superiority, I hope that something somewhere enjoys the way I defeat myself.”
The therapist nodded knowingly. Fred had tears in his eyes and reached out his hand as if yearning for a gossamer ribbon.
“In a morning wilder, to bathe in satisfaction It is to live like the beasts inside and remain, lost from the world beyond our eyes, lost from the higher order that we ideally strive for. Letting go of it where the memory reminds us and persuades back to the coveted halls of loving self destruction.
It’s such tangled web of this and that.
And I cant tell you why I enjoy that. I get the web. I see how it all connects and how we pull on one string and it pulls another. But I cant explain it. And so we hide with vice and beer and acts and demeanor which proves only to the world. I need to prove things to myself.”
The therapist nodded knowingly before Fred lifted himself from the couch on his arm.
“It’s just that life IS so unfair. People had told me that all my life, i just never realized how unfair it was until now.” Fred was sweating. “Listen doc, I gotta be honest with you.”
“Hmm?” the Therapist said.
“I really want a smoke.”
The therapist nodded knowingly before leaning back in his swivel chair. It was the old metal kind with the cushon and it squeaked with an awful noise. “Well Fred, you admitted yourself into this program because you wanted results, and cold turkey is how you wanted to do it.”
Fred wiped his eyebrow. “I know that, but I…I changed my mind.”
The therapist nodded knowingly.
“Did you hear me doc, I CHANGED MY MIND!”
The Therapist leaned forward before saying “You’re not in control of your mind anymore.”
He pushed a button and two men came in and took Fred away as he kicked and screamed, back to his cell.