The Dispassionate: Volume 1 Book 1

By Kassim Hariri

The Dispassionate follows the life of an individual who has been destined to a disastrous fate. If hell be taken through his lowest point emotionally, physically and telepathically, forced to draw upon past experiences, will he be able to sculpt an alleviating and paradisiacal existence? Will he be able to find the delicate balance between true peace and power? Maybe a spiritual guidance could aid in his conflict with. His fear is only met by the inquisition of his own bravery.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Sep 18, 2017
• ISBN: 9781490783857

Kassim Hariri

The Stone Mountain, Georgia raised and now native of Savannah, Georgia author Kassim Hariri, indugled many of his younger years within his facisnation of Japanese cartoons and the fantasy realms of video games as a child. Through his years of growth and adolences, Kassim found himself in the balance of fictional and realistic events that shaped his personality as well as perception of the world. At 25 Kassim’s hobbies include being an anime enthusiasist, food connoisseur, science fiction writing, hip-hop vocalling as well as archery and gaming. An English major from Savannah State University as well as a bartender at a local resturant, Kassim Hariri’s hybrid style writing comes from his experience with the people he encounters as well as the ever changing vision of media and culture.

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Copyright 2017 Kassim Hariri.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.

Scripture quotations marked NIV are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved. [Biblica]

ISBN: 978-1-4907-8384-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4907-8386-4 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4907-8385-7 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2017913307

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CONTENTS

I Awake

A)   Prologue

B)   The Party

C)   Acquainted

D)   Avarice

II Girls, God and other Placebos

A)   Triumph

B)   About a girl

C)   The Abundance of Time and Life

D)   Reconcile and Relinquish

III Hamartophobia

A)   Something about the word Life

B)   Another party another problem

C)   The Dispassionate

I

AWAKE

PROLOGUE

T here are a lot things that eat me up inside, to be honest it almost feels like a pack of carnivorous animals devouring the insides of a helpless gazelle. Crying and screaming for the slightest occurrence of a miracle, while you feel your inner organs being ripped through your body as you look in eyes the merciless predator filling their bellies in total disregard of your excruciatingly uncomforted agony. Do you often bottle up your feelings inside? Like saving how you truly feel about certain things in a storage facility in your mind? I wonder why we humans do such a thing; I definitely fall under circumstances like this too often. I’m guilty of bottling my emotions when I’m totally aware that the results will be detrimental…well at least mentally. It’s like I have these thoughts or feelings that I keep to myself about certain situations. They don’t bother me at the time being though it is annoying having these inner thoughts float around, frequently reoccurring with their subtle glimpse of a visual that conveys a certain scenario which creates an impulsive action in your brain until you forget about them. Is any of this making sense to you or am I just rambling about nothing? I’m sorry, have I lost you yet? Are you confused about how I’m feeling? If so then go ahead and read something else to take up your time because you have to be visually there with me to understand the rest of my story. If you feel adequate enough for my inner thoughts then continue reading…

I’m not myself at all. I haven’t been for some time now. It’s like every time the feel need to speak up or express myself on something that may affect everybody, there’s a battle that that goes on within me. My body has the ability to transfer my thoughts and emotions to deceased spirits of twisted souls in that waft freely in my body. Recently though, these ghost have been frequently appearing right in front of my eyes. It’s like I’m seeing them for the very first time in my life even though they’ve always been extant within me.

I’m not sure if you understand what I’m saying, I can see my emotions! I honestly don’t have a problem with that though, whenever I see them, they acquaint themselves in a physical spectral form. For example, I’ve seen my Ghost of Love. The ghost of love is a hollow-translucent woman whose aura is pink and grey. Red; which the symbol of intense passion that could signify my most incomparable moments of affection one has with souls of interest. The white represents the innocence and care that I have for that soul that could only be mirrored and returned to myself. These colors combined create the spectrum of Pink. Black, would represent the darkness or sadness, which describe my lowest moments in relationships, whether it’s deceit or disgrace. White, is the purity of someone’s heart and mind. Thus creating the color grey, which describes that moment when everything that has been built and achieved through a relation begins to fade to a grey, foggy memory. Her voice used to be the sound of the strings on a harp; angelic, soft and soothing but now her voice is the sound of agony, similar to the hurt you’ll feel after losing a loved one in your life. The pain, the agony, the sorrow you felt, that desperate search for explanation as if you were searching for an arctic animal in the Sahara. Now imagine that same sound of deploring would be a woman’s voice, what could have been the change? Well she is amongst the 3 other ghosts who inhabit my mind and body. All together; the Ghost of Love, Agony, Regret and Triumph have taken turns controlling my actions since I was child. All of a sudden, they are trying to speak to me face to face, which is odd.

Life just hasn’t been the same. It seems that I’ve allowed another ghost to enter and displace my Ghost of Triumph. This has been causing me to do unjust things sporadically during the night. It started with me having maniacal and sadistic thoughts, which lead to me dealing drugs and meshing with others who will lead me into a path of destruction, sex with several women, robbing the innocent with no remorse and finally, led me here, standing in a pool of blood that has risen to my ankles inside of palace ballroom. Staring at my hands which become claws with talon like fingers, gazing at my feet which have become hooves. As I look into my reflection of the lagoon of blood below me, I’ve seen the chiseled horns in my forehead. The smell of perfume and cologne still linger on my tongue. No emotion can save me, for I am a walking demon. The feeling that I let creep inside of me; the emotion that I let remove my triumph, my pride, my reason for being who I am. It made me into something I am not. I am The Dispassionate.

CHAPTER 1

The Party

O utdated, dirty, and deteriorated. These are the few words that describe my shoes. As I stare at them with grief and sadness my mother stops the car and says here you are, have fun son! I smiled as wide as I could; I closed the door and walked towards the house of the party. She waits for me to enter the house as if the eight seconds away from the car is enough for me to be robbed or killed. As soon as I stepped on the door mat I heard my mother yell Have fun! Don’t do drugs, Love you! I looked in her a direction and blew a kiss filled with sarcasm and acrimony. I promise mom! I said sarcastically. My mom realizes that I’ve been going through changes lately. I try to tell her that nothing’s wrong and that she worries too much but when has that ever worked on a mother? My mom can always tell when something is wrong with me, I don’t know how she does it at all…Eh maybe it’s just the gift that comes with being a mom. That intuition that something is wrong with your child, a child that she held inside of her own body for 8 in a half months as well as raised for about 18 years…it’s almost like my feelings and thoughts have been somewhat genetically encoded within her the moment I left her womb.

She pulls off and I walked towards the door. I rest my hand on the door knob and think to myself of all the things that can go wrong at this party. I’ll be surrounded by my peers from class who do nothing but smoke weed, have sex and drink cheap alcohol. My clothes are outdated and while theirs will be fresh with the latest styles in today’s hipster/hype-beast fashion. I hate everybody and everybody knows this. Why I was even invited in the first place is beyond me. Why the hell did I even show up? Oh that’s right; the girl who invited me is the girl of my dreams!

Ah the smell of her perfume gives my spine chills; the thought of her smile makes my soul jump and makes my heart pulsate at speeds unimaginable. She’s the most popular girl at school and she invited me of all people to her graduation party. I like this girl a lot and she has to know how I feel about her! I want to tell her everything, how I feel, how she makes me feel on the inside!! However she may think I’m stupid or laugh at my attempt to obtain her heart, I can’t think about that now though, I have to get this girl, I feel that were meant to be together. Hey faggot how about you open the door! It’s hot as shit outside and I’m tryna get fucking faded!! The hell?!? Behind me was class Jackass-oops I meant clown Derrick. He laughs at his own insults as usual and opens the door. Damn, was I really just at the door this whole time fantasizing? Sigh, I need to keep my head on straight. I walk in right behind him and all I see are the students from my class laughing, smoking, drinking and making out with each other. I seriously despise the fact that the people who I hate the most are happier then I’ll ever be.

I didn’t want to make myself known, so as soon as I walked in I stood in the corner with my cup of fruit punch mixed with some gas station liquor and tuned in to conversations of others. Only a few minutes of their conversations drove me fucking insane! You know what I hate? I truly despise people who exaggerate their complexity. What is with this craze of being alone and misunderstood? People strive to be different when in actuality are the same as everyone else. You are not a poet, nor an artist. You are not different and you’re not an outcast, so why must you act as if you’re the elephant in the room? People would say their different and form an alliance with other people who feel that their different. All of a sudden you have a union of people who claim they were uniquely created, as if their life was filled with adversity and uniqueness. My entire graduating class feel that their separate from society but in actuality, their just a scale…a scale on the back of a snake, together they form a serpent, a lie, a deceiver.

ARRGHHH! They truly infuriate me; I wish I could take any one who shared that stage with me on the night of my graduation to a dark alley, tie them up and beat them furiously with cold cement bricks, I hate them all. I just want to stab them, in their stomach slowly then removing their internal organs one at a time as I fill the room with blood and tears!!! AHHHHHH I HATE THEM ALL!! If I could I would murder them all, cold bloody murder and – Whoa… what was that? That was very unnecessary… I never had thoughts like that before; I mean I dislike my class but murder? That’s a little too extreme, and it was so graphic. I visualized the goriest scenario in human history just then. Maybe its punch I’m sipping. Yeah it was the drink for sure, had to be. Nobody just has those thoughts right? I pull up a chair and by far the most annoying organism decides to sit right next to me and starts conversing. Sooo, who invited you again? Was it Veronica? Hey you like her don’t you?? Well me and her are great friends and-

The conversation was interrupted by my irritated facial expression. I looked at her in her eyes with the expression of I will slap the living shit out of you. So she rolled her eyes and started talking to someone else.

I put my headphones in so everyone else will know not to disturb me, as soon as I select the song of choice someone pulls the left earplug out of my ear and says What are you listening to stranger? ..Who in the hell???!??… Dear God… I look up and see the most beautiful creation within the