WHERE IS MY Soul DOCTOR?

Sometimes I wonder doctor.

…

Don’t look at me like I am a rotten tomato…I, too, can wonder.

Yes, but I wonder what makes you wonder.

That, I won’t tell you…you bloody bastard! In fact, I want to see sweat even in your ass to find that out.

I see.

Sometimes I wonder doctor…I wonder where my s…Hey what is that in your hand?

Oh, this?

What else is your hand doc?

Nothing!

Then why do you ask me such a question? Are you a doctor or a magician?

It is a game cube. You want it?

Are you bored?

No, it is for patients.

I am not sick and you are not a doctor!

…

You know that…there is no you or me or she or he or we or us you know that! Give me that black  cube!

Here, take it!

There is only this dark cube game, you play it right! I willingly play it wrong! That is all doctor! You know that you cowardly hero!

…

Hey listen!

…

I have a story to tell you for a change…

I am sure you do.

A story that has a clue for everyone who feels lost on this maddened world.

I love riddles and clues…

Cool…I thought you had lost your ability to love quite a few times actually. Are you really able to love?

Yes.

Really?

Yes.

Still?

Yes.

Despite everything?

Yes.

Then why are you still here?

How do you know where I am?

Who is talking to me right now?

A doctor.

And that is not you?

Only a part of me.

But that is still you, in fact, maybe the darkest part of you.

That is not true!

We will see. Let me tell you my story…sometimes I wonder doctor! I wonder how on earth I had managed to live with no soul for so long…and I remember the Morning when I commuted to work. I was on the train…it was full of slaves with fearful faces. They were too embarrassed to look at each other so they all stared at adverts on walls of the train where they lean their heads on sometimes. Or they all read the same free newspaper to look, sound, feel and act like they were all on the same page of their artificial culture. I was calm and quiet, still running around the world to satisfy my stomach. And I wondered why that newspaper was free in a culture which kept telling people there was no lunch for free. It bothered me but I tried to convince myself that I could still be an angel with no wing. Are you with me doc? Stop taking notes, you can never decode my madness!

I might!

And I ran and ran and ran to catch the same train over and over again many morning doc. I did not read the free newspaper nor did I stare at the adverts on the top of my head or secretly watched people’s reflections on the windows of the train. I wanted to understand this shit so I turned to philosophy. There they said, you cannot philosophize if you put into account your God! Then they got me ask whether there was a God! Well, how you could you talk about something that does not exist anyway I asked.

…

And then one morning I saw a man in his 50s wearing a black suit while sitting on the same train, readying myself for 12,5 hours long slavery. That was fucking wrong, hence I was searching for the truth.

Where was it?

In the smile of the man in the black suit.

How so?

He was standing by the door with a woman in a black suit. He looked at what I was reading and smiled. He then looked at the woman standing beside him. She,too, smiled victoriously and devilishly.

Why?

Because the article I was reading to learn how to philosophize was titled “Does God Exist” without realizing that was how…

How?

That was how I began to loose…

Loose?

Loose in this magicians’ world…but now I know all their secrets doc!  I now know why the man in black suit smiled at me that sarcastically that morning.

Hmmm…

There never was a free newspaper…people paid it with their souls. There had never been a true philosopher on the face of the earth! They were all devil boys in black robes! They were there to steal God from people!

…

And you are a bastard doc!  Because I found my soul!