UnBooks:Failure of my Domain

The world runs through peaks and nadirs, and personal development comes in fits and starts; growth is always accompanied with errors and detours. But true friendships and subtle caress point the way for me; stress and troubles there may be, I was determined to continue down the avenue of compassion for those who I love, for I was the master of my domain.

Bliss

Grim dawn, turbid dusk, the monotone. Sky remained silent to earth but the sweeping wind, and earth gave no reply apart from the bashing dust. Nevertheless, we were happy in the warm tent in an eternal party, among mountains of neatly folded napkins. We gamed day and night with shoes flapping on the sticky floor, ate hamburgers flavored by a fog smelling of hypochlorite disinfectants, and laughed about yellowed pages of sex education books. Unsure about the source of the smell but never caring to ask, I had lived in bliss until the ancient lust took hold of me.

That night, I excused my way out of my friends' embrace, waddled a few steps under the cold stare of the barrens, and collapsed on the gravelly plains. A damp bump deflected in my skull, synchronizing with the thumping subwoofer that sent ripples through the thick, heavy air. Panicking for no reason, I rose and ran, wobbling through the aroused dust particles. Caught in their bewildering flutter, it was as if I, too, had become one fleck of dust, drifting with the wind without a destination.

Expedition

If I was following my heart, why did I feel like a malfunctioning machine? Dizzy, I clung tight to my unreasonable shame, afraid to lose the trail of my cryptic instinct, while my legs alternated back and forth, propelling me to the nearest standing shackle.

Glancing behind, the wolf's den was no longer visible, the memories from there windswept relics of old. What remained of the old concrete neighborhood rose around me, calming the repudiations in my head. In the glory of a lost city, with the hills looking solemnly afar, under the moonlight shining regally, my machine was turned on.

Despite the activity's extreme offensiveness, I must honestly describe my dark secret, for educational and informational purposes. My friends and I are interlocked within a web of joyful memories from the countless hours of partying, and I believe they will open up too if I did.

It started with a defiant tightening between my legs, and somehow I knew to coil my fingers around it. An enigmatic feeling arose once my hands started to work: I felt like an explorer, venturing fabled lands of wealth; I felt like a conqueror, advancing with a mighty army; I felt like a boss, with riches and power in my command; then suddenly the euphoria went critical, while an unanimous joy washed over my body. The shame and fear could not matter less; what concerned me was here and now.

I again collapsed on the harsh gravel, my heart beating in a fit of arousal, synchronizing with my twitching limbs. O my little stick of happiness, no matter what happens, do not leave me... Promise you will always stay with me...

When dawn trickled into the dirty sky, I was strutting back to the club, tired but relaxed, sedated but determined, unbent before the coming dose of friendship.

Leak

For the next part, among you, Rhamno might know better; but I shall offer my own account.

The following night, I sneaked out once again, this time much calmer when I dissolved into the dust. Love with my urine exit had made me fearless, and offered the lust to pursue our personal pleasure. The swaying extremities, glittering needletips, and wavefront of steely knives in the party faded behind me as I pranced to our rendezvous. Considering myself safe, I bent before the wall and locked my fingers on the flute, setting for the culminating note –

 – until someone tapped on my shoulder. "Whoa, bro, finally found ya!"

Recognizing Rhamno's voice, a sudden fear clogged my throat, and my composure shattered at the surprise. I must edge away, or turn to greet him, or quickly respond, or ... So many actions needed, yet my body petrified and my legs froze; but miraculously my hands rapidly concealed the quickening partner, lest him be robbed away. I felt thick liquids flowing down my legs, leaving streaks of stinking shame that would remain to this day.

"Galacto! Are you listening? Come, you can't miss the fun tonight!" talking excitedly, Rhamno did not seem to have noticed the embarrassment flashing on my face or the self-loathing centrifuging in my mind. I followed him, pacing, hollowed out. I was ruminating to no avail, until that event singly dominated my head. The scene of getting caught by my friend amplified and distorted indefinitely in the hiatus of rationality.

Danger

Damage done, any remedies? Yes, another rep of pleasure would temporarily stifle the revulsion. Craving and dependence slowly precipitated: the fun of video games collapsed like my bulge when discovered, the previously wonderful hamburgers tasted like the grimy floor.

Whenever a day passed without satisfying him, my little head showed his poisoned fangs. Distraction was futile, and I only yearned for the eruptive joy. Meals were interrupted with endless brooding of those lovely contractions, and sleep became a luxury even with the ominous fluid pooling under me. Sometimes, the entire world faltered as I saw it, the cucumbers, humans, and forks all phallic signs, incessantly squirming for thrusts. My whole life had become a sacrifice to whom I once took for a soul mate.

I understood everything the night I came back from the ruins: piles of moist paper strewn across the floor, plastic bags with streaks of black against white, punctuating a stink that could wake the dead. The dustbin was filled into a small hill with all the material, which tended to stick stubbornly on the bottom and the sides. No offense, but often someone would walk with a bulge, with its summit boasting a damp snow cover. Our happiness has been ruined; we are really shooting our life away, burning our energy until nothing is left but a deprived husk of lust.

Today I called you to admit that I am ill, and it seems that we all are. This is a pandemic. We face the same enemy, so we shall address the problem together and stand firm before the face of threat.

Rehab

"So I told the story to eliminate any doubts. Now, I assume you would all be ready for rehab, right?" I sat back to take a sip of water, anticipating a full warm approval from my listeners, my party-mates, my friends. But nobody moved. Some wary, some shocked, some confused, all the eyes were on me, as if a new set of genitalia had taken root on my forehead.

They have fallen short of the revelation, of the metamorphosis, trapped in their unenlightened mindset; I had to inspire them a little. "The times are harsh. We are currently subject to a moral decline: first comes the excessive pleasure-seeking, then discontent and exasperation, eventually devolving into murder and social collapse! I'm reaching out now, talking about these heavy topics, because our future can be saved; and I brought forward not the gloomy reality but good tidings to cheer you up, to show you that there is hope. Trust me: the rehab center will bring back our genuine happiness, an enjoyment not soiled by even a trace of guilt. And even better, it is insanely simple to achieve: first, speak up actively, and reveal your problems honestly; second, let the experts guide you to fight your fears and soothe your trauma. Let's begin the easy trip to a better self!" Not a man of eloquence, the soliloquy left me panting, though not without pride of helping others and distributing love. Surely they will follow me.

I was wrong again. Immediately stout Manno responded, "No. I've never done the dirty thing." Following him, others echoed, "This horrendous sin I never commit." "Nobody jacks off anymore; it is bad for the body. Everyone knows."

Denial. Well versed in psychology, I knew it was the common initial reaction to a crisis. I chose my words wisely. "You might feel strong now, but only before being consumed by the habit; it starts by planting desires within you, which feeds on your self-discipline and spits out guilt in return; then the desires would flood your will, use up your energy, and before long you would become a human skeleton with loosened skin trailing. It is known that such desires are pathological, as this simple calm reasoning reveals. Having contracted this illness, we must face it and treat it, so as to live our life to the fullest. See farther than the ephemeral joy you indulge in!" I was sure they would embrace my love and caress pouring out to them; strangely they refused.

"This joke is worse than a new hamburger franchise." Manno uttered. Others were quick to join, quarrelsome and annoyed. "This isn't even funny," they insisted, "What's on your mind?" Some stared me with a look that threatened to open my skull and see what wack had made its way within. "Drop those needless worries. Come on, play the new video game with us! Look, just forget about the dumb theories."

A tear crept down my cheek. Why must the world be so cruel, turning my friends into puppets and pawns of a disease born from lust? "You seriously need to break this dysfunctional cognitive pattern! The illusion of euphoria is the illness slipping sweet poison into your morals, and the utter lack of remorse is your mind telling sinister lies to you, manipulated by the disdainful habit!" Desperation gushed up my throat in a choking fit. Swallowing it down, I continued anxiously, "Can't you see that the illness is eroding your thoughts? Please, I just want you to be healthy and happy again!"

An unsettling silence fell among the listeners, clearly not amused. Outside, the wind was growling. "Enough," Rhamno spoke, without a trace of the enthusiasm of inviting me to the party a day ago. "Fed up with this stupidity. Make an end to it; we don't masturbate. Try to stay cool, and we'll return to fun 'n games."

Weren't we talking about the shameful behavior? "What does masturbate mean?" I asked, confused of the digression.

"The dirty, sinful habit you keep on wailing about. The thrusting and the shooting." He looked as if having a conversation with a talking goat. "We do not do it. And even if some people do, the habit is by no means the illness you proclaim." Rhamno turned to the video games. "Take a rest and be done with your psychobabble. Shove the stinking rehab center up some asshole." Manno said impatiently, entering the toilet with another plastic bag.

Time froze for me, only the gust and the odor remained. Long after I found my voice, cracked and traumatized. "As a friend, I feel obliged to assist you, for all the love and amity between you and me." I tried to speak in a soft and soothing tone. "If I were you, I would seek help from the professionals. For the good of all of us, I will bring a message to the rehab center about our grim condition, with evidence and samples. You may loath me, but you will change your mind once the irritability melts away from the mind-controlling illness. The rehab will do wonders to your health. Voluntarily admit yourselves! Trust me!" My voice started to grow impatient. "You will thank me! Don't forget I'm doing this all for you!" I finished harshly, grabbing supplies and tumbling out of the tent, their looks thrown behind. Why couldn't they just understand?

Devotion

Outside, the predawn crimson unnerved me. My worries started howling, more fierce than even the wind. But quickly, love brought the dawn to me, warding off inertia and distress and freshening my resolution. They are my friends, so I must assist their recovery, despite the price and isolation in the rehab center; they are my friends, so I have the responsibility to care well for them, despite the enforcement and coercion of the rehab center. That place may have its abusive personnel and substandard conditions, but changing toward the better is often accompanied with pain: a caterpillar must break through the walls of a cocoon to become a butterfly.

From the altruism and devotion transcended a mighty sense of meaning, arming me with endless motivation. Taking large strides to the rehab center in the direction of the rising sun, I found my true happiness. That moment, I felt connected with thousands of individuals like me, each contributing their force to making the world a better place. I identified activists boycotting products, saving animals, promoting all-natural lifestyle; and I envisioned revolutionaries delegating the sinful pleasure, cleaning filth, and claiming justice. I need not fear; I was the savior, and saviors are undeterred by resistance and thwarts despite being the minority.

Suddenly I wasn't under another boring dawn the color of stale vomit. I found myself before drips of light cordially wetting the golden air, then sprawling across the blurry sky and opening up endless possibilities of a new day.

Step after step I dangled to the east with wholehearted pride, thus completely oblivious of my (former) friends' stares behind, like poison, like thorns, like daggers in the dark.