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Vampire's Gun |
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Vampire’s
Gun The
candles burned brightly against the darkness of night’s a.m.
All now silent - Mirrors vacant – Nothing moved but the wind.
The turn-of-the-century attic wood smelled like history.
Built in the late 1800’s many lives passed there.
He knew it. He could
feel it all around him like some constricting black leather glove.
The
chimney’s brick was exposed. The
bricks were bare and fire roasted red.
No one knew he was up there. No
one knew what he had been pondering in solitude all of the chilly winter
night – layered with heavy cotton and wool garments.
No cigarettes. No
coffee would do. Not now.
With his ivory handled sportsman knife, he cut the final pieces of
fishing line that he had been untangling from an old bass net found in one
of the corners. His thoughts
also gave way and unraveled from mixed emotions.
He had decided what to do. He would go downstairs to his den, open the mahogany cabinet door, brush his hands across the velvet of the case, sit down on the old sofa soft with brown cow hide – and kiss the vampire’s gun. “Kiss the vampire’s gun,” his consciousness stated. He was lost in a frenzied circle of alcoholic blackness with feverous snakes and cold, sweaty shakes. Where was he, trying to out run his past? Where did it get him? “Nowhere,” he correctly summed it up. “Nowhere man” is how he felt. Then,
suddenly, while reaching for the railing to descend the steep, dark attic
stairs, he fell hard and suffered quite a blow to the head.
White light was blasting and massive ringing deafened his ears.
He knew it was his only chance for change.
The train was speeding onward with hot, white light.
He knew he had to jump aboard for new life.
It was his only way out of the abyss.
The only way out of his white-Anglo-Saxon protestant prison that
promised he and his bloodline would be in dark, eternal slumber for
generations to come. Many severe misdoings had been done by his
bloodline’s quest for power – slavery, thousands of tons of industrial
waste irresponsibly disposed and turned into cancer causing agents and
miles of destroyed land, billions of slayings from guns, unethical
politics and too many compromised positions that benefited his family at
the wicked expense of others. Others
that were viewed as just numbers (mere stats) instead of life! He
jumped out of his skin – hoping to erase the enculturated lies and
hatred that chained him down – and he caught the train moving with
light. The oldness of his sins
lay heavy like melting flesh around a structure of weak, decaying bones
unable to support what it is he stood for as a man.
“God, I am sorry. I
am sorry, God.” He wept.
He cried aloud but no tears could fall on this plain.
Not there - as he knew he was somewhere other than his family’s
home, somewhere uncertain speeding along – aborted time, logic, money,
power, connections all things that he hitherto counted on to succeed.
“Please
forgive me! Forgive me for
what I’ve done! Forgive us
for what we’ve done!” He
meant it too. For his whole
existence was in jeopardy of being eternally cursed and damned and this
was his last chance to make a difference for his whole bloodline – as he
was the only one who could ever even come this close.
The only one that possessed some sort of conscience that refused to
be quiet. This conflict is
what drove him mad. This is
what led to his passion for the vampire’s gun.
So be it when that much blood is shed for your desires.
Collectively
his proud bloodline clawed its way to the top, mauled all in its way to
sustain the power & accompanied wealth that they thought they deserved
by some sort of divine spirit. Just
as “man” separated himself from “animals,” they strove to separate
themselves from their fellow men – lying, cheating, manipulating,
killing and locking away innocent people under unjust laws that they
helped see passed – enslaving others mentally and economically while
they prospered with others who blindly fought the “proud cause”. He
knew these ways to the top may have worked on earth, however, given that
so much of these ills they inflicted could have been prevented by refusing
to “take the easy way out”, it meant him and his family and family’s
family were indeed eternally cursed and damned.
“I
will. I will.
I will. I will,” he
repented. I will surrender my
life to pure light, to you, oh, great creator of being.
I will no longer mock you by hiding behind the façade of corrupt
political structures that we have cultivated in “your name”.
I will no longer mock you by hiding behind the façade of morally
bankrupt religions that we have manipulated for our political causes –
religions across the seas that we’ve dished out like opium to the
oppressed masses – and the smoking mirrors we’ve used to herd the
sheep that we count on for votes of power to wield our wicked ways.”
“You
are above words, above description – you simply are “being”.
You are life. I am
yours. I am yours. Please let
me share it with the world. I
will lead by example – and exemplify what it is to be a good human
being, husband, son, parent, citizen, neighbor and friend.”
His words rang loud. The
train came to a squealing halt. Light
penetrated from every sense of direction.
From
nothing a green meadow arose containing a lush variety of flowers and a
gentle, cool wind that raced to a thick tree line that encircled the
meadow in a protective ring. Inside
the ring, playing in the meadow, were 12 children of all color and a few
mixed with color too. The
scene represented the joyous diversity of pure being.
The children laughed on the echoing green and played with one
another without any cares, concerns, prejudices, hidden agendas or
secrets. They just played for
the fun of the moment. He knew
it. He felt it.
It was all around them. Staring
at the children elevated his spirits.
He had an epiphany. He
knew he had to awake and start. This
was his second chance. This
was his only chance. At 44 he
was well positioned to start over again.
For this he knew he must do and make meaningful changes that would
bring about true betterment in the world and help balance the energy of
his family’s greed and unjust wrong doings. It
would be a long, hard process, nevertheless, he knew it would be nothing
compared to the fate that await him and his family tree if he did not do
it. Besides, he now
intuitively knew that those filled with pure light do not tire because
they are filled with the pure energy given to sustain their selfless good
acts. For as long as oceans
crash sands of continental shores, he would use his will to exude the
“supreme state of being” – accomplishing all of what he had before
in an honest, true way. He
would now make his riches greater than all that walk this weary earth in
search of some kind of vain meaning. The
vampire’s gun was now a bad dream away.
He now knew that he had to erase the hate and break the vicious
circle that had become his eternal fate.
And, in the name of pure light, he knew his work would free him.
Q & A Re: Vampire’s Gun with Julia Wilde Q:
What’s
with the fishing line? Why
fishing line? A:
Taking
on this neglected, un-loved house of ours has left me with some charm.
I found a rod with line and fishing net in some rafters when we
moved in and they were tangled. And,
to use another simple charm experience left me with, when manicuring acres
as a boy, I always envisioned what it would look like when I was finished
and while I worked at it, my thoughts always unraveled along with the job. Q:
Where
does the train come from? A:
The
train w/ its light is just a symbol for something to take you beyond.. In
the story he suffers a blow to the head that causes him to be
unconscious..He jumps out of skin to catch the train..He has something
like an outerbody experience..He could travel to either life or death..
Q:
Is
this about anyone in particular or anyone family in particular that may be
popular right now? A:
If
you’re insinuating that this is about Michael Jackosn and The
Jackson’s, no – you’re wrong. ..
Ha haha. All kidding
aside, no. It’s not. Q:
Okay, so why Vampire’s Gun? What
does “Kiss the Vampire’s Gun” mean? A:
In
this instance, Kiss the Vampires Gun is a metaphor for
“bite the bullet” –however, is a little more complicated than
that..Given that this person’s internal conflict was driving him
literally “mad”, literally to the verge of suicide (which is a mortal
sin), and his family had had suicides in the past and had the blood of
others on its hands for generations.. With this family a nasty little
cyclic series of events was in play in the big picture of life on earth
– What some people may refer to as “bad karma”.
Thus, if he would have committed suicide, he would only be further
feeding into the unfortunate cycle of uncomfortable life and death –
over and over again – here on earth as long as it exists. Just
like a Vampire living on blood for eternity but of course, at an extreme
price. Q: And
the children of the world in his “vision” when he is unconscious? A: At
this point of the story, the children symbolize purity in its purest
energy. ..Which signifies the only power great enough to “cleanse” him
and his family from all the earthy and cosmic sins against them.
The children are pure light, love, pure energy.
Q:
What influenced this story? A:
An
extended whiskey weekend, my reading of Autobiography of a Yogi and some
of my own experience. |