The Self-Fulfilling Secondary Stumbling Prophecy

L'Amour, (Love)
Et La Mort (and death)
Et la mort-gage. (and the death-pledge.)

"Beneath the eaves of wistful sleep
..a mean dream of reprieve."
George Lucas

Death: What does it want?
Whom does it need?

The answer to both these questions?

YOU

Since the dawn of mankind, men have sought to wrest their sweaty heads
from the scurrilous bosom of death. To no avail. All who have ever
been, have had to succumb to the invitation barked out across the river
Styx.

Samuell Beckett described it as:

"The ghastly curtain call, the indolent void."

Descartes as:
"The summer evening shadow, encompassed then succumbed, to the
reclining sun."

Morgan Freeman says of his scepticism of life after death:
"There are no cell phones, for your skelly bones."

In John, 23:17, Jesus says unto the disciples:
"Have, or have-not, all who come unto me, shall drink of my
life-giving juice. He who kneels before me, shall drink of my love. And I shall
come in them."

All these great thinkers have offered little in way of comfort for the
existence of another plane beyond the stench-warmth of the veil.

But hither not, hope shines eternal.

Seven Seals
The Dance of the seven veils.

Beyond each of these myths, lies the key to eternal life.

Rama's long dead mum was sat in front of his moonlit window reading him bedtime stories. And he could see the intricacies of her face like he hadn't been able-to in his mind's eye for far too many years. As she began asking him what he would like to hear next, every fictional title began to rouse in him the realisation that she was trying to clandestinely make a point to him. Something about a rotting apple in a hotel was the catalyst for his realisation that she was not, in fact, 'she', but a dastardly shadow. It was around this point, that the black milk began to precipitate around her hairline, finally pooling up until it had had it's fill, and began to divide her face into race track lanes (which had seriously begun to 'hag'). At which point Consuelo strode a brave step into the room, and began to sidle the outer perimeter of the bedroom toward Rama. Putting on a brave face, but guardedly back-brushing the wall. He called his son's name sternly, as if to tell him not to listen to her, and Rama began to cry. He heard in his mind what his Dad had meant:

his head attempted a swiftly initiated gaze-escape, while he gripped his comforter. Rama knew in an instant, as he began to slowly shout a long drawn out "Mom...." (in an: 'Oh, please, God NO!' kind-of-way, about the kidding of the wistful bliss). And the Golden Nowhere? It's all a wishing and a crock of shit. And deep down, we all know it. She's nothing now, and all this romanticism counts for nothing. There'll be no holy rendezvous, except in his exploding consciousness as his failsafe trip-switches the endorphins or whatever to keep him from flipping-out at the fact he is ceasing and all he ever counted for was the shooting of his gooey smithereens into as many females as possible.

Because the stars.....

The Stars

Are not

Ours.

--------------------

48°47--49?N, 113°39--29?W

The Golden Nowhere Hotel

Luta's Viewpoint

Here's as much as I remember.........

Rama and Luta find themselves at the Golden Nowhere Hotel. They are unfathomably incredible-in-love. In the diner of the hotel, they meet an old woman, and an old man. The old woman and man are unrelated, but he sticks his oar in, as though a weary husband, much to her chagrin, which is much like that of his actual wife. She owns a dog, and directs Luta's eye to it. The dog has been dead for some time, as indicated by its dry matted fur, and it's contorted shape, but most prominently by its rear-end which is stuck to the floor. Held fast by any post mortem excretions. In fact, the rear end of the dog appears misshapen as though crushed, though the dog itself is sort of sat up. The top half of the dog is curling away in an unnatural direction to that of it's posterior. The dog is on a lead, which is in the old woman's hand. I forget what she talks about. But I'm suspecting that things go swiftly downhill from here.

Cut to their hotel room. They know they are doomed. And everything's somehow greyer than it was before. And Luta is crying on the stairs outside the hotel room.

We cut to very early morning. 5 or 6am. We see Luta as though from a little ways out in the lake. She is wearing a dress, almost as though prepared. She strides meaningfully barefooted across the pebbles underfoot into the lake, and eventually, when demanded, swims (doggy paddle type, we don't see anything but her head) out about halfway. Her hair is blackened from red, but still displaying a deep red tint. Her lips are perfect blue. She is almost taken left of the mountain, but perseveres to the right. She passes a stag's head, floating in the opposite direction. (Stag's body is submerged, not solely a head, although it is inanimate, presumably dead. She makes her way further to the right of the mountain, and fights her way up an inlet, which is a mild incline............

The Threshold Of The Golden Nowhere

Luta makes her way up these slight falls. Watched by a stag on the banks. She carries on to the lazy falls on the left, and ascends them too.

She finds her self in a sort of clearing. (This is the actual Golden Nowhere) Any footing is comprised of floating logs which will take her weight. Ahead of her is a sort of construction. Triangular from the front. Toblerone shaped in length. A building made of logs. Outside this construction she finds Rama, and it seems all is indeed, Golden. However she see's a swift rerun of events, of what actually transpired, and realises she is, in fact, nowhere.

When her sight returns to the reality surrounding her, Rama's skeleton is lying on it's back wrecked on the side of the toblerone building, and smiling it's death grin. She realises that everyone who ever was, or indeed will be, from this locale; (the locale being the world) came from, and will end up, here.

She lifts her crying head and sees the length-sides of the building are bookended with only two movie screens, (everything else encompassed in black) which rerun the events running up to this moment, and the credits then begin to roll. And she is left with the inevitability of having to enter the building forever.

Here is a transcript of the original witness statement........

(Hotel Café)

"Kid with dog so dead and petrified it's stuck to floor with discharge from it's own arse now dried. It's 'cured'. He stands by it's side".

"His order: Water, for dogs."

"Stupid Kid. He's with poltergeist type woman."

(Stupid kid says:)

"I have three dogs, all called Celia.

One is Polish (Indicates the height of the dog, hand lateral by his waist)

One is Belgian (Indicates height with hand by his thigh)

And one is ________ (nationality not recalled, boy indicates height smallest, by his knee)"

(Other relationship aspects.)

The relationship has to end despite the fact they love each other. One of those nonsensical break-ups:

"I have to leave you because I love you so much."

I comfort her on the stairs. It's like Rock N' Roll deaths,

"I have to die for you."

What?

There's an iceberg visible by its invisibility (Mount Gould. We're talking Glacier here.)

"His wife makes sure they won't be together out of spite."

(Metaphorical wife.)

Flowers have her first name, and bubbles(?) spell out something. 7 letters D-R-_-_-_-_-_

Or his name?

He buys her the (violets?) and water to replenish her tears.

She maybe, sorta, has a tearful roll around with me, but its only rebound. Never to be more.

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Slight waterfall.

Two stags swim side by side.

Vision of long-dead puritan.

They climb to the top of the dead-house, and realise it was partially always visible from their hotel.

He was building a model of what's beneath dead-house.

Where they're going to live forever, seems empty and cold. But through the square in the floor, it's beautiful, though vacant, wooden bare, she looks back at him, He's dead and skeleton, and she realises 'the death'. He's skeleton climbing the dead-house. The credits roll next to us, I hug a comfort (for) her.