Epilogue
She’s right you know. I’m not compatible with humans. Hell, half the time my damn dog even loses it’s loyalty. Every time I try to relate to anyone, I just seem to blow it. Guess the only thing compatible with me is my cactus, and lately some of them have even taken to dying.
She once asked me if I ever considered suicide. Who wouldn’t after what I’d seen. But I said no. So she rephrased the question. Maybe I should consider suicide. That’s why I decided to end it. Seems the only way to protect the human race from further contamination by me. What did she call me? Oh yeah, the Devil Incarnate. Better known as the evil Prince of Darkness.
Once wrote a book that talked about the Prince. Guess she finally figured anyone that knew as much about the Prince as I wrote about must be speaking from first hand experience. She might be right I reckon. Stands to reason that the Prince would know all the details of Jesus’ life. He was there tempting him in the desert, trying to seduce him with riches, power and women. And finally, when he gave up on Jesus, he was there nailing him to the cross.
That could explain what I saw. All the time I thought I was the reincarnation of Joshua, the friend and scribe of Jesus. Never crossed my mind I might just be the Prince of Darkness. Took the Ex to wake me up. Her insights take all the fun out of the end of the world.
So this must serve as my final will and testament. My great escape. This world has hit such a subterranean level of degradation, that anywhere can only be better. The final plane ticket to Neverland. More like a subway death ride in NYC. Yes, final ticket out. They might call it a “Living Will” or something like that, but how could a living will be serving the dead? Never did figure that one out.
That might have been my problem, always trying to figure things out. Got me in more trouble than I could ever imagine. That and telling stories. When I was a kid, my grandfather and a bunch of other old men used to tell me stories, for hours.
They made me laugh. They made me cry. They even scared the shit out of me. But they always made me feel. Nothing else ever did I guess, except those old stories. It was a gift. Made people feel good. Made some like me feel for about the only time.
So there I was, just a kid, and already burdened by twin curses. Curses, by the way, that would haunt me the rest of my life. Figuring things out and telling stories. Yes, maybe she was right, maybe I was the son of Satan.
DON’T SEEM RIGHT TO ME
I don’t want the world to know
that I’m tired and feeling low
after all the miles I’ve seen along the way
For I’m not proud of the role
that I played as I did go
and I can’t imagine this is how it’s supposed to be
somehow this don’t seem right to me
But then I’m just a fool and fools
don’t really know what they’ve got
seems like they’re blinded by the moment
it don’t matter what they’ve sought
When they finally take the time
to stop and see just where they are
seems they never really
got so very far