Welcome to a white room containing two white-three-piece-suit clad males. The first is a thin young boy around seventeen years of age. He has semi-long, semi-curly dark brown hair, pale skin, dark eyes with long eyelashes, and a timid smile. He looks uncomfortable yet elegant in his suit. His name is Cosmo Crude. The second is a grey-haired, bespectacled forty year old psychiatrist by the name of Mr. Tidbits.
The latter clears his throat and says dryly, "Cosmo son, would you please tell me more about these little 'experiences' you've been having?"
Cosmo- who had previously been looking at the fluorescent lights and counting the tiles on the ceiling- listlessly looks up and nods his head yes. He loosens his bowtie a bit before speaking.
"Well...uh...fuck, alright. Well, like you know the last thing I told you- about the football player and cheerleader arguing over who was most likely to be president one day?"
"Mmhm...go on."
The psychiatrist jots something down in his notepad, scratches his stubbly chin, buttons the bottom most button of his ivory suit jacket, then waits for the boy to proceed.
"Okay, well, it's happened again since then except this time it wasn't just two voices- there were several. I'm not sure how many exactly; it was hard to tell. I mean, some were more distinguished than others. So, I really am not at liberty to say exactly how many, you know? But...uh, er...I do know, though, that one of them was a mother- or was going to be a mother- and she had a stuffy nose."
The shrink excitedly scribbles some more words in his notepad, smiles queerly, then crosses his long leg over his knobby knee, once again focusing on Cosmo.
Cosmo loosens his black bow tie another time while smiling sheepishly. Of a sudden he becomes unexpectedly animated as he says, "I can, uh reenact it all for 'Hooray! Role Play' if you want but um for now I'll just tell you about it."
Mr. Tidbits sits up erectly in his seat full of giddy energy and gleeful anxiety. Apparently he is quite pleased at Cosmo's proposal.
"Oh yes, yes...please do, son."
"Well, alright. Let's start this off without any words- ha, that's a play on one of Kurt Cobain's lyrics, it's such a great song he-"
At this moment the now extremely emphatic, on-the-edge-of-his-seat Cosmo is interrupted by the doctor.
"Let's not get side-tracked now..."
Cosmo's face becomes warm and flushed with an embarrassing heat. He begins fidgeting and looks at his shoes; secretly wiggling the toes on both of his feet. After thoroughly inspecting his white oxfords which are adorned with a golden buckle, he mumbles something inaudible, then continues.
"Oh, sorry. Well, in my head it was a dark, sleek, sexy night in a Third-World future when the shit [not-so-literally] hit the fan...I mean, I guess that's what was going on in my head- like, like a dream only my eyes were wide open."
Cosmo shifts uneasily in his cold, hard seat before carrying on.
"Anyway, Charlton Heston- the N.R.A. guy, you know?- was trying to escape this strange world of apes, orangutans, and their disorganization of generals and armies trying to take over the island then, I guess, the world-"
"Hmm, very interesting Mr. Crude."
Tidbits glances at the clock hanging on the wall, stifles a yawn, takes off his spectacles, fogs them up with his hot breath, wipes them dry and clean on his lapel, then looks deeply into Cosmo's eyes. Maybe too deeply.
If Cosmo were paying attention to Mr. Tidbit's attentive, penetrating stare he may have felt uneasy; however he is too busy recounting his story to be bothered by body language and the deciphering of such.
Cosmo pushes his hair, Cosmo shoves his curly bangs, out of his face. He reaches into his breast pocket and pulls out a soft-pack of unfiltered cigarettes. He reaches his slender fingers into the pack and pulls out a cigarette but does not light it. Cosmo simply twirls it in his hand and continues talking.
"Well yeah so then this girl starts talking and her voice is really high pitched and pink-sounding. She says, 'However you look at it, this was not a fun activity! Barbie and Kenneth are supposed to be my friends and that's the only reason why I helped them to do it.' 'Do what?' I asked her, but she was already gone- gone or angry- because she did not answer me. My head began throbbing at that point. I still couldn't understand whether or not I was awake or dreaming; I felt suspended in air, floating somewhere. I couldn't have even told you where I was at that moment, I barely even knew who I was, you know? But, anyway, just then- after the pink-sounding lady ceased talking- this couple jumped in. There wasn't really any scenery or anything; I mean, they were just sitting on an invisible bench with translucent red-tinted armrests. I think maybe they were breaking up or else just arguing."
Cosmo lights his cigarette. Mr. Tidbits frowns, but being so deeply involved in his patient's anecdote he decides to let him smoke.
"Anyhow," continues Cosmo, exhaling tobacco fumes into the room, "The girl was really pudgy and pimply. Ugly- I guess, I mean by normal (whatever that means) social standards- but charming. So, this ugly yet charming girl asks her equally unattractive boyfriend: 'You're so easily influenced! If someone told you to steal a highly expensive car wouldja do it?' Her boyfriend replied in a southern drawl, like a hillbilly or something, 'Hay nah, I'd neva. I'm olf-ended that ya'd think that of me, baby. Hot diggity damn!'"
At this point in time the psychiatrist, Mr. Tidbits, once again pencils something in his flamboyantly purple notepad. He wonders if this couple represents anything factual in Cosmo's life- perhaps his parents? Once the shrink realizes that Cosmo has ceased talking he hurriedly encourages otherwise.
"Keep talking, keep talking son...this is absolutely fascinating!"
Cosmo scratches his head, extinguishes his cigarette on the bottom of his shoe- looks around for a place to discard the butt, shrugs, puts it in his suit pocket, and looks off to the side, into the distance, trying to remember.
"Oh, alright. Well, next came the little girl. She wasn't there long though. She was just sitting on her swing talking about pudding. She thought I wanted her to 'touch it,' the pudding- that is. She said, 'Ohh, boy! I swear orange puddin' is grr-oss! I would never touch it! I can't believe you would think that I would touch it!' She was getting pretty upset. I kept trying to tell her that she had me mistaken for somebody else, but she wouldn't listen. Finally she swung so high on the swing that she flipped over the top and when the swing came back there sat a young woman- about 29 years old. She had a fat stomach, nice eyes- probably the nicest eyes I've ever seen or saw without actually seeing, you know?- she was wearing glasses, she had a fat stomach, pretty soft-looking brownish blond hair and a shy smile. You know those types? Every time she'd smile she'd look at her feet. She reminded me of my English teacher- ahh, what was her name again...something German sounding-"
Mr. Tidbits sternly advises, "Focus."
Cosmo, startled from his deep contemplation, looks wide-eyed and open-mouthed at the psychiatrist. It is almost as if Cosmo, in his reverie, had forgotten that the shrink was sitting across from him and listening. The young man quickly regains his composure, shakes his head from right to left as if to say "I'll be damned," smiles his timid smile towards the doctor, then continues talking in an even dreamier voice than before.
"Sorry sir. Well, I said 'Can I ask you a question?' She said 'Sure,' so I asked her something that she shouldda got mad at, cause it was rude and all, but she didn't. I think she was too kind, you know, a philanthropist type or something. Anyway, I asked her 'How did you get that belly? It doesn't quite match the rest of your body.' She just laughed- the most beautiful laugh I ever heard- and said, in a surprisingly stuffy-nosed voice, 'I'm pregnant silly- third-trimester as a matter of fact. What, are you gonna ask me how old I am next?' I got extremely embarrassed at that comment but kept talking nonetheless, cause I liked her. I like her very, very much sir-"
"Oh shoot Cosmo, we're almost outta time for today- try to wrap it up would you son?"
Cosmo glances at the clock- which is stuck on 12:21- before answering with traces of disappointment in his speech, "Oh yeah. Okay. Quick. Well, hmm, basically I talked to her a little more- asking her questions and stuff. And, well, with every answer she gave me I found myself falling deeper and deeper in love. I mean, don't ask me why, I think cause she reminded me of my mother or something...which sounds sick, but it's not like that. I'm no Oedipus Rex, trust me! Anyway, I started getting really jealous cause I figured if she was pregnant then she must have a husband or a boyfriend, so I asked her. I said, 'excuse me miss, I know I'm a bit younger than you are- but, I mean my heart doesn't know what age I am, and- well are you available cause of your pregnancy and everything, I mean, I wouldn't wanna wreck any homes or nothing, it's just well I-' she cut me off at that point and explained everything. She saw I was confused- she was really good at deciphering and telling what was on my mind you know?- and said matter-of-factly: 'I was raped by my father.' She kept talking, kept telling me how it happened, and how the doctors wouldn't let her get an abortion and on and on...I felt the need to vomit but didn't want to interrupt her...as she retold the story, as it got worse and worse she started to fade away, evaporate like water or something. She kept talking and then Ludwig Van Beethoven or Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart- I dunno, one of those composers- started playing in the background. After the song was over, and her story was almost over, she was all dried up like a stain. I could only hear the sound of her faint voice moaning on and on yet I couldn't understand any of the words. She was just a stain. Like a stain in my heart or something..."
At this point Cosmo stops talking, he starts to sniffle, "It's just not fair! How could someone do that? How could we let this happen, what- what is wrong with us dammit!"
Like a shot a terribly violent sound slices through the end of Cosmo's sentence. A loud buzzer blares in the background and Mr. Tidbits announces, "Oops, look like we're out of time. Next week my boy, next week."
The shrink gathers his briefcase, papers, and belongings then leaves without saying 'Good-bye.'
Cosmo is left there pulling at his hair. Cosmo is left there in his seat shaking and sniffling and crying real tears. There is not much left of him either. He too is starting to fade. Cosmo Crude has begun to fade away. A hollow and emptied space. Indeed, there isn't much left of him except for a lump in his throat and a heaviness in his already laden- already heavy- heart.
Everything begins to sag and to break under the weight of pain.
The latter clears his throat and says dryly, "Cosmo son, would you please tell me more about these little 'experiences' you've been having?"
Cosmo- who had previously been looking at the fluorescent lights and counting the tiles on the ceiling- listlessly looks up and nods his head yes. He loosens his bowtie a bit before speaking.
"Well...uh...fuck, alright. Well, like you know the last thing I told you- about the football player and cheerleader arguing over who was most likely to be president one day?"
"Mmhm...go on."
The psychiatrist jots something down in his notepad, scratches his stubbly chin, buttons the bottom most button of his ivory suit jacket, then waits for the boy to proceed.
"Okay, well, it's happened again since then except this time it wasn't just two voices- there were several. I'm not sure how many exactly; it was hard to tell. I mean, some were more distinguished than others. So, I really am not at liberty to say exactly how many, you know? But...uh, er...I do know, though, that one of them was a mother- or was going to be a mother- and she had a stuffy nose."
The shrink excitedly scribbles some more words in his notepad, smiles queerly, then crosses his long leg over his knobby knee, once again focusing on Cosmo.
Cosmo loosens his black bow tie another time while smiling sheepishly. Of a sudden he becomes unexpectedly animated as he says, "I can, uh reenact it all for 'Hooray! Role Play' if you want but um for now I'll just tell you about it."
Mr. Tidbits sits up erectly in his seat full of giddy energy and gleeful anxiety. Apparently he is quite pleased at Cosmo's proposal.
"Oh yes, yes...please do, son."
"Well, alright. Let's start this off without any words- ha, that's a play on one of Kurt Cobain's lyrics, it's such a great song he-"
At this moment the now extremely emphatic, on-the-edge-of-his-seat Cosmo is interrupted by the doctor.
"Let's not get side-tracked now..."
Cosmo's face becomes warm and flushed with an embarrassing heat. He begins fidgeting and looks at his shoes; secretly wiggling the toes on both of his feet. After thoroughly inspecting his white oxfords which are adorned with a golden buckle, he mumbles something inaudible, then continues.
"Oh, sorry. Well, in my head it was a dark, sleek, sexy night in a Third-World future when the shit [not-so-literally] hit the fan...I mean, I guess that's what was going on in my head- like, like a dream only my eyes were wide open."
Cosmo shifts uneasily in his cold, hard seat before carrying on.
"Anyway, Charlton Heston- the N.R.A. guy, you know?- was trying to escape this strange world of apes, orangutans, and their disorganization of generals and armies trying to take over the island then, I guess, the world-"
"Hmm, very interesting Mr. Crude."
Tidbits glances at the clock hanging on the wall, stifles a yawn, takes off his spectacles, fogs them up with his hot breath, wipes them dry and clean on his lapel, then looks deeply into Cosmo's eyes. Maybe too deeply.
If Cosmo were paying attention to Mr. Tidbit's attentive, penetrating stare he may have felt uneasy; however he is too busy recounting his story to be bothered by body language and the deciphering of such.
Cosmo pushes his hair, Cosmo shoves his curly bangs, out of his face. He reaches into his breast pocket and pulls out a soft-pack of unfiltered cigarettes. He reaches his slender fingers into the pack and pulls out a cigarette but does not light it. Cosmo simply twirls it in his hand and continues talking.
"Well yeah so then this girl starts talking and her voice is really high pitched and pink-sounding. She says, 'However you look at it, this was not a fun activity! Barbie and Kenneth are supposed to be my friends and that's the only reason why I helped them to do it.' 'Do what?' I asked her, but she was already gone- gone or angry- because she did not answer me. My head began throbbing at that point. I still couldn't understand whether or not I was awake or dreaming; I felt suspended in air, floating somewhere. I couldn't have even told you where I was at that moment, I barely even knew who I was, you know? But, anyway, just then- after the pink-sounding lady ceased talking- this couple jumped in. There wasn't really any scenery or anything; I mean, they were just sitting on an invisible bench with translucent red-tinted armrests. I think maybe they were breaking up or else just arguing."
Cosmo lights his cigarette. Mr. Tidbits frowns, but being so deeply involved in his patient's anecdote he decides to let him smoke.
"Anyhow," continues Cosmo, exhaling tobacco fumes into the room, "The girl was really pudgy and pimply. Ugly- I guess, I mean by normal (whatever that means) social standards- but charming. So, this ugly yet charming girl asks her equally unattractive boyfriend: 'You're so easily influenced! If someone told you to steal a highly expensive car wouldja do it?' Her boyfriend replied in a southern drawl, like a hillbilly or something, 'Hay nah, I'd neva. I'm olf-ended that ya'd think that of me, baby. Hot diggity damn!'"
At this point in time the psychiatrist, Mr. Tidbits, once again pencils something in his flamboyantly purple notepad. He wonders if this couple represents anything factual in Cosmo's life- perhaps his parents? Once the shrink realizes that Cosmo has ceased talking he hurriedly encourages otherwise.
"Keep talking, keep talking son...this is absolutely fascinating!"
Cosmo scratches his head, extinguishes his cigarette on the bottom of his shoe- looks around for a place to discard the butt, shrugs, puts it in his suit pocket, and looks off to the side, into the distance, trying to remember.
"Oh, alright. Well, next came the little girl. She wasn't there long though. She was just sitting on her swing talking about pudding. She thought I wanted her to 'touch it,' the pudding- that is. She said, 'Ohh, boy! I swear orange puddin' is grr-oss! I would never touch it! I can't believe you would think that I would touch it!' She was getting pretty upset. I kept trying to tell her that she had me mistaken for somebody else, but she wouldn't listen. Finally she swung so high on the swing that she flipped over the top and when the swing came back there sat a young woman- about 29 years old. She had a fat stomach, nice eyes- probably the nicest eyes I've ever seen or saw without actually seeing, you know?- she was wearing glasses, she had a fat stomach, pretty soft-looking brownish blond hair and a shy smile. You know those types? Every time she'd smile she'd look at her feet. She reminded me of my English teacher- ahh, what was her name again...something German sounding-"
Mr. Tidbits sternly advises, "Focus."
Cosmo, startled from his deep contemplation, looks wide-eyed and open-mouthed at the psychiatrist. It is almost as if Cosmo, in his reverie, had forgotten that the shrink was sitting across from him and listening. The young man quickly regains his composure, shakes his head from right to left as if to say "I'll be damned," smiles his timid smile towards the doctor, then continues talking in an even dreamier voice than before.
"Sorry sir. Well, I said 'Can I ask you a question?' She said 'Sure,' so I asked her something that she shouldda got mad at, cause it was rude and all, but she didn't. I think she was too kind, you know, a philanthropist type or something. Anyway, I asked her 'How did you get that belly? It doesn't quite match the rest of your body.' She just laughed- the most beautiful laugh I ever heard- and said, in a surprisingly stuffy-nosed voice, 'I'm pregnant silly- third-trimester as a matter of fact. What, are you gonna ask me how old I am next?' I got extremely embarrassed at that comment but kept talking nonetheless, cause I liked her. I like her very, very much sir-"
"Oh shoot Cosmo, we're almost outta time for today- try to wrap it up would you son?"
Cosmo glances at the clock- which is stuck on 12:21- before answering with traces of disappointment in his speech, "Oh yeah. Okay. Quick. Well, hmm, basically I talked to her a little more- asking her questions and stuff. And, well, with every answer she gave me I found myself falling deeper and deeper in love. I mean, don't ask me why, I think cause she reminded me of my mother or something...which sounds sick, but it's not like that. I'm no Oedipus Rex, trust me! Anyway, I started getting really jealous cause I figured if she was pregnant then she must have a husband or a boyfriend, so I asked her. I said, 'excuse me miss, I know I'm a bit younger than you are- but, I mean my heart doesn't know what age I am, and- well are you available cause of your pregnancy and everything, I mean, I wouldn't wanna wreck any homes or nothing, it's just well I-' she cut me off at that point and explained everything. She saw I was confused- she was really good at deciphering and telling what was on my mind you know?- and said matter-of-factly: 'I was raped by my father.' She kept talking, kept telling me how it happened, and how the doctors wouldn't let her get an abortion and on and on...I felt the need to vomit but didn't want to interrupt her...as she retold the story, as it got worse and worse she started to fade away, evaporate like water or something. She kept talking and then Ludwig Van Beethoven or Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart- I dunno, one of those composers- started playing in the background. After the song was over, and her story was almost over, she was all dried up like a stain. I could only hear the sound of her faint voice moaning on and on yet I couldn't understand any of the words. She was just a stain. Like a stain in my heart or something..."
At this point Cosmo stops talking, he starts to sniffle, "It's just not fair! How could someone do that? How could we let this happen, what- what is wrong with us dammit!"
Like a shot a terribly violent sound slices through the end of Cosmo's sentence. A loud buzzer blares in the background and Mr. Tidbits announces, "Oops, look like we're out of time. Next week my boy, next week."
The shrink gathers his briefcase, papers, and belongings then leaves without saying 'Good-bye.'
Cosmo is left there pulling at his hair. Cosmo is left there in his seat shaking and sniffling and crying real tears. There is not much left of him either. He too is starting to fade. Cosmo Crude has begun to fade away. A hollow and emptied space. Indeed, there isn't much left of him except for a lump in his throat and a heaviness in his already laden- already heavy- heart.
Everything begins to sag and to break under the weight of pain.
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