Book of Stephen

The Book of Stephen:

A post began, deleted, began again, and still no words.

Where is Stephen in all this darkness.

Hump Day Love

I can't believe it. I'm in shock. All those days of working straight, with no end in sight are finally over! I know, I know, it's hard to believe, but it's true. I have a day off! A "Hump Day" off with nothing to hump, just my luck, but that's ok, I'm still loving it.

Pain to Pleasure

"Your quest to pleasure can not be reached without walking down the path of pain, little one," so said the wise man.

"Well, I've been walking down the path of pain for a few days now and the only thing I have to show for it is a tired and aching body," I said.

"Have faith, my child."

"Faith, you say?" Having kind of lost the faith along the way I wonder if he is as wise as they say. Here I have climbed to the top of this damn mountain only to be told, to have Faith! What kind of bull shit is this? Stephen says and thinks to himself.

"I see, you doubt my wisdom, little one."

Ok, I've just about had it! First he says, have faith, rolling my eyes I think to myself, same line, different Holy Man. And now for the second time, he has referred to me as little one. What is up with this? There is nothing little about me. Hell, I don't even refer to Stephen Jr. as little. Just my luck, a blind wise man! But I'll play along.

Doubt? Oh no, your Holiness, there is no doubt, why would there be any doubt?

"Close your eyes, my child, the road you seek is within. It is a long journey over high mountains and through deep valleys. Dark clouds and heavy rains will fall upon you. You will struggle, you will fall, your heart will bleed. Remember in finding, there was first a seeking, remember in reaching the end there must always be a beginning, to begin a journey there must be a first step. The sands of your hour glass has begun falling, your destiny, your journey . . . .

Yes, Yes, my destiny, my journey? Go on! Tell me more! What is this? Has Stephen become a believer?

Wise man glances at a bright shiny object glaring in the sunlight. "Sorry my child, your time is up! Perhaps, we will begin where we left off today, if that is ok? Your lunch break is over, time you got back to work!"

The Puppeteer

"Who do you think is pulling the strings here?" he ask.

"Well, I thought I was," came my reply.

There is a tug of the string and involuntarily my arm is almost jerked out of its socket.

"Well what do you think of that?" he ask.

"Hey, cut that out," I screamed.

"Cut that out? Cut that out, you say. Well you little ungrateful . . . without me you would be nothing but a pile of rags, bones, and fecal material. It is I that makes it possible for you to live, to eat, to breath and don't you ever forget that! I am the "Puppeteer of Work" now haul your sorry ass of of bed and get to work.

Searching

"Searching . . . searching for what?" he asked.

"If I knew, there would be no need to search," I say. I only know that it is out there, it is waiting.

"You're not making any sense, Stephen. I don't get you sometimes, I really think you were dropped on your head as a child.

Dropped on my head, huh? You really think that is what happened?

No answer comes back, only a shake of the head.

No matter, I think to myself. I know it is out there, it is waiting, I will find it.

Naked

As I walk down the corridor, my steps echoing on the tiled floor, I turn the corner and the echoing stops. Was this in the planning of the building upon its conception? A devised carpeted plan of quiet escape. I can see the door, it is within my grasp, my reach, it is my redeeming salvation, it is my door to freedom. Unable to control my feet, my pace quickens, there is an urgency for me to smell the freshness of the outside, an urgency to feel the air against my skin, the warmth of the sun against my face. My arm extends from my tired frame of an overworked body, hand touches the door, it turns, I push, I walk out into the world. The door shuts, I stand naked, free from all the stress, the headaches, the worries of this week.

Unfortunately

It is so unfortunate, I can not begin to tell you just how unfortunate it really is, beyond describable, beyond imaginable. I awoke this morning and he was gone, no where to be found. He was there last night, I'm sure of it. Lying in my arms as I drifted off to sleep, his body pressed against mine, I know he was there. My first thoughts were he had been abducted by aliens, whisked right out of the bed during the night. God only knows what they must be doing to him. Needle biopsies, probing and prodding his orifices, oh my! A voice screams in my head, "Stephen, get a hold of yourself, man!" Aliens, no way! "If anything, it is probably the second coming of Christ and your ass has been left behind." I lay there thinking to myself, what's the difference, aliens or second coming, either way he's gone and damnit I wasn't finished with him yet. Shaking my head, trying to clear the cobwebs from my still drowsy morning brain, trying to imagine how it all could have happened. How could someone have quietly slipped in and abducted him from my arms without me knowing? I hear something off in the distance. Oh no, screams of torture, screams of pain, I lay there motionless, still as a field mouse hiding from the farmer's cat, fearing they, the abductors, may be returning for me. Louder and louder the sound gets, my heart pounding in my chest, the sound gets closer and closer, a deafening ringing in my ears. Louder, closer, louder, closer, it's HERE, it's next to ME, I can feel it PRESENCE. I can't stand it any longer, I must see, I open my eyes, blinking once, twice, eyes focusing on the tormenter. BIG RED EYES in the shape of numbers stare at me, 4:30 AM! OMG, NO! Please GOD, it can't be! NOT THIS! Not another workday! Couldn't I have my orifices prodded instead?

Outside Looking In

There has always been this feeling I can not ever remember being without. A feeling of there being someone else, another person, another part of me, somehow perhaps, somehow maybe, a twin that never was conceived, never split apart, never came to be. Someone inside, knowing all there is to know about me, my desires, secrets never shared with anyone, my hopes, my dreams. How can it be that this person, this entity knows everything about me? How is it I'm finding myself on the outside looking in?