Gibberish or the Irrelevant
I must admit that for some time I preferred Fortune’s justice to Fortune’s karma, since human beings err unwittingly from their own sufferings as a subconscious revenge to the world, because no thief is born a thief if money always available on the ground and no rapist a rapist with plenty cat-houses around; this very hypothesis is testified by Dante himself with one line in his Divine Comedy, Purgatory--- “the punishment of every disordered mind is its own disorder.” So why karma? Why not treat criminals with social welfare and candies, and the entrepreneurs, two out of three of them or more, obese with bribery, with shackles? Why compound suffering with suffering, may I ask? Are all Buddhists sadistic-masochistic? Marxists should’ve had a good fight with the Buddhists until one party splash another’s brains on the great wall of social revolution. They never have done so, however, the Marxists did it well to fetter the countries’ capitalists, perhaps too well, though.
Oops, I just digressed.
No, no euthanasia. If he shall die and escape from a young woman’s passive-aggressive wrath, die so prematurely that no misfortune has yet to befell, no old age, itself a kind of disease, accompanying diseases. Now I realize how naive I was, and how right the Buddhists are about karma, hell, and SM--- I want to see my torturer suffer the way I suffer, yet how I suffer! How absurd! This is all but a conspiracy to inflict me with kindness and gift, love and jealousy.
No, not those drooping eyelids underneath which hides forlornness too heavy and disgusting for me to tolerate. No, no just five meters away from me down the passage way. No, no winding green underlines. Damn Microsoft, damn windows XP, damn Bill Gates, damn dumb terminal, damn love.
Fenriz is the name of the drummer who’s founded probably the most long-lived black band, Darkthrone. I guess he is submerging himself in Heineken right when I am typing my head off. There’s only five hours of time lag between Taipei and Oslo. I used to dream of him thousands of years ago, drinking like fuck.
All of that cannot stop him from having that terrible crush for me, nor could it extend the five meters to five thousand. I’ll have to wait for I don’t know how long.
[There are several flower shops on that street behind Hsiu- Yuan market approximately towards where Kee- Long road is.]
I said, for I guess Kyd wasn’t able to elicit much valid information from the chemistry guy.
"Within my knowledge, no. Why?"
"Such distance from our dormitory!"
"You lazy thing. You probably have never lived in mountain area. No, you’ve never traveled from earth back to heaven. It is of greater distance than from NTU to the flower shops."
I paused, thinking how I escaped from the hellish apartment by nestling under a tree in Chen- Ta hind mountains, and then resumed with
"Do you know how to get a pistol?"
"Alas, foolish Satanist; we don’t “travel” there; we are 'dispatched' there. As to guns, with magnanimous patronage of my friend, maybe."
Kyd’s eyes were asking for explanation whereas his lips were too lofty to.
"I can get myself a gun from some sources, but I don’t know, it risks a lot. And I might have to mount the gun-parts together myself. I am not going to for I am an idiot among craftsmen."
"I thought you were an artist."
"Should all that are aesthetic in the brain be deft in the hands as well? Just answer me."
"I’ll check it out for you, as one of heaven’s sacred vocations." He said, nodding his head, "I guess what you are up to with the gun is none of my business?"
"Yes. But who is your friend anyway? A bandit or something?"
"It’s none of your business, my dear Eros."