The Hardcore Rhetoric: Hindsight Society

By M.R. Treez

Living among the loving, Im lucky to have even one person in my life who loves me. Some can go their entire lives without being loved. The world is plagued by people who dont even know how to care for others, much less themselves. For the generations ahead, its up to them to remember compassion.

It took me entirely too long to figure out precisely why its important to love yourself. With all the different perspectives out there growing up, the one I seemed to deny most was my own. Was my decision to disregard my personal needs and wants my own, or was it programmed into my behavior through some conduit of influence? When I asked myself this, I began to see the universe in a different way.

The universe can communicate with us, and sometimes that communication comes though as forms of irony. This irony can deliver opportunities to better ourselves, and its up to us to exploit them.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jan 15, 2016
• ISBN: 9781504973816

M.R. Treez

M.R. Treez is a lifetime student who enjoys viewing life with as many perspectives as possible and feels lucky to have someone who loves him. Treez currently resides in Scotts, Michigan.

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© 2016 M.R. Treez. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 03/12/2018

ISBN: 978-1-5049-7383-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5049-7382-3 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5049-7381-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2016900820

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Prologue

PART ONE

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Mother’s Journals: Volume One

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Mother’s Journals: Volume Two

Epilogue

Information Resources

Passion is denominated in one way, quality according to which a thing admits of alteration: as white and black, and sweet and bitter, and gravity and lightness, and whatsoever other such things there are: and in another way now are energies and alterations called passions of these: still more than these are noxious alterations and motions, passions, and particularly those motions that along with being noxious or injurious are painful likewise. Further, the crushing burdens of misfortunes, and of things that are fraught with suffering, are called passions.

- Aristotle, translated by John H. McMahon The Metaphysics, pg 115

Prologue

The ability to love is one fraught with emotion. A person is presented with the possibility of extreme happiness within the wholeness of life, if brave enough to endure the torrential downpour of emotion associated with loving. I have stared this happiness right in the face and been completely perplexed as to how to fulfill its needs. Nothing is ever good enough for love that changes us. We feel helpless as love takes us apart piece by piece and reassembles us according to its seemingly egocentric design, with us in its grand scheme only to experience it. Distractions of this kind keep the genetic material evolving.

Love is a wash of feeling that can bring an otherwise lazy human being to the point of complete selflessness to do something which establishes a deep connection with the underlying tones of reality rippling out into infinity. That’s how we, as life forms, communicate: through different tones, frequencies, and levels of energy. Love is a sensation triggered by interacting with these different forms of communicated energy (emotion expressed physically, mentally and energetically) that unleash chemical and energetic reactions within us. Within each of us love takes on a different shape; the energy exhibits a unique pattern.

Much like every person is different, so is the love shared between two individuals. Certain forms of love can start with a look or some other gesture and proceed to blossom within the psyche of the individuals, each taking their own personal route through the reality created within their minds. These different routes individuals travel down within themselves over time are routes with many forks and will continue on for as long as the individuals participating allow them to.

The time required for an individual to fall in love with another must also be considered when exploring the concept of love. We are corporeal constituents of time, so love must also be a constituent of time. The chemical reactions and subsequent thought provocations and emotional reactions are experienced by us as we travel through space and time. It only takes a moment, when circumstances reflect the individuals’ expectations of an ideal love awareness event, to fall in love. When a love awareness event occurs between two individuals, emotionally provoked energy expression within the space the two individuals occupy creates an energetic light show they and everyone else around them experience.

Sadly, love can end just as fast as it begins. If one of the individuals does not feel the circumstances meet those desired for their first encounter with the one who was meant for them, then the whole situation is doomed. The two may be friends at best, but no copulatory love will form between them and there will be no perpetuation of their genetic material.

Even though one of the individuals loses their loving perspective for the other, love may persist within the other. Love does not have to be reciprocated to exist for the other who is still experiencing their loving perspective. This can lead to disaster for all involved if not handled with appropriate care.

If appropriate care is taken when love between two individuals fails to fully blossom at a certain point in space and time, as the universe expands to encompass evolving consciousness, then the two individuals will move on with their lives. Once any wounds are healed, former lovers continue with their experiences through space and time, congruent with what we all perceive when we’re not around those we love intensely and passionately.

There once was a woman who took me by surprise and changed me to my core. I never would have imagined the things she showed me, such subtleties in our universe ripe for discovery in ways I never thought possible before coming into contact with her. I still feel the aftershocks of those discoveries and probably will for the rest of my life.

Is it possible consciousness demands a companion? A fundamental system of nature giving rise to new life, would it not be understandable, in its own way, consciousness desires the love of another? Helping to find consciousness’ soul mate, life is the matchmaker; life is the cradle for consciousness’ experience of all forms of love.

Love, a system of evolutionarily predisposed forms of interaction facilitating genetic material perpetuation, is just as real as we are as long as there is substantiating belief through life experience. A force so powerful, love can cripple a person who has the mightiest of stances. I wonder about my past loves sometimes. Could things have turned out differently? Maybe if I had done something different things would have turned out more conducive to the perpetuation of my genetic material. The only constant in my reality has been my love for others, felt through thought, triggering emotion and linking rhythmic, biological and energetic discharge.

Deconstructing love at its most intense moments down to its most fundamental constituents must be done. Like countless before me and currently, I’ve been in romantic love. This love has taken my soul for passionate rides of desire. Was this kind of love not meant to last forever?

I still feel the presence of those I’ve fallen for. With my past loves I experience entanglement: our energy fields became one, mingled, disassociated while retaining an imprint linking us through space and time. Feeling the energy signature of those we’ve been intimately involved with is a literal reality. This doesn’t necessarily mean the interaction had to be sexual or even romantic in nature, just intimate. Due to the complexities of the species, this entanglement can play tricks on the mind, making one believe there’s something more to a relationship, when in fact there’s nothing but the possibility for friendship.

Besides the obvious procreation potential, intimate relationships are opportunities to learn from one another on a scale not met with the more passive everyday intermingling. Over time the intimate love grows, enabling deeper understanding of life. Through this exploration more experience is shared, more memories are made, more emotions are felt, and more energy is transferred from one form to another, propagating the genetic material through the generations as we surf the waves of space and time. Consciousness evolves through this exploration.

Love does indeed catalyze the formation of the universe. The universe forms around one’s spatial perspective through time as experience grows life into a future potential destiny. Experience propagates individual destinies with other individual destinies until a mass experienced end is reached.

While everything finds a way and place in the universe, consciousness observes and interacts with this ultimate destiny as time unfolds reality at a rate relatively perceived. Everything that has happened, is happening, and will happen any way it can on the grand scale of multidimensional existence the unified experience is acquainted with as the omniality or omniverse.

There must be nothing for there to be something. The omniverse is consciousness conceived through time. Consciousness evolves through all potential experiences as the physical universe manifests within a corporeal realm of space and time. Within this corporeal realm of space and time is the love from a woman who took me by surprise and changed me to my core, forever.

PART ONE

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One cold and snowy night, while listening to the usual experimental electronica on a CD (compact disc) player I had recently installed into the dash of my slightly beaten up four-door sedan, I drive down a familiar icy road. Watching the yellow stripes peek through from behind the ice and snow covering the dark pavement gliding past me, I can’t help but feel excited for what the night is to bring. I’m fresh out of my first real, long-term relationship with a woman who’s nearly as self-destructive as I am. It’s not easy breaking up with someone you actually care about, but when you know the relationship is irrevocably tainted, there comes a time to muster the courage and say enough is enough! I’m definitely in the mood for the fun the night promises.

Paul, a friend of mine, is house-sitting for his parents this week, and it’s up to us to squeeze as much fun out of the week as possible. I would be smoking a cigarette, but the roads are so bad that what little sense I have says to keep both hands on the wheel. The few house lights displayed by Paul’s parents’ house beckon me through the darkness.

The closer I get to the house, the more excited I become because I know the general game plan. Paul has, through much hush-hush deliberation and social know-how since most recreational substances are prohibited by law, acquired enough ecstasy to fuel a fun-filled week of partying and debauchery. I’ve only done ecstasy once before and had a great time, so I’m eager to experiment with it further. I make my last left turn and notice my heart pounding with excitement, anticipating who may be there tonight besides the usual folks. All I have to do is get there without sliding my car off the road into a large snow bank, or worse, a tree.

Once I arrive safely, I park my car in my usual spot. Out of habitual respect for others who may join the festivities, I park just off to the right of the actual driveway, facing the large house shrouded in glowing white snow over a dimly lit interior. I can tell there’s activity inside, which means even more excitement for my heart to translate into an obnoxiously fast heart rate.

This evening is all about a more private gathering; there may be a bigger party later in the week. Maybe I’ll meet someone different to take my mind off my recent breakup and into the clouds. I knock on the side-door accessible through the open garage door. We never use the front door of the house. The place is in the middle of a renovation and the front door is inaccessible. Paul and his smiling face respond right after my second knock. Saucy! Come on in! he exclaims, nearly at the top of his lungs, chuckling happily while pulling me through the doorway. He mentions I’m a little late. I explain it’s due to work at the local mini-golf course and arcade, simply called The Arcade, keeping me later than usual. There are marker pen caps shoved into his gauged ear piercings and they look bloody and uncomfortable. He says they’re making his piercings larger than the usual plugs can. My female cousin from my father’s side of the family, Sasha, sits on an L-shaped couch in the newly renovated office living area. They both look like they’ve been patiently waiting for me to arrive, though still obviously antsy to experience the fun tonight.

It’s not long after the usual hellos and other pleasantries before the topic of the night’s fun is reached. Paul disappears upstairs for a brief moment and returns with a jar filled with tiny pills. The pills are all white with crosses stamped onto them. Does this mean I’m to have a religious experience with these pills tonight? Last I knew, theologically I’m undecided. I’m only twenty years old so I have my whole life to figure out my theological perspective. Paul assures an excited Sasha and me that the pills, which turn out to be a particular high-grade variety of ecstasy, should be the focus at hand. By taking two of the tiny pills we’ll have at least ten hours of pure, uninhibited happiness! The majority of the pill’s composition is MDMA (3,4-methylenedioxy-methamphetamine), with some common street cocaine mixed in to keep the pills from falling apart. I try not to mind the religious symbol stamped on them. Paul sets the price of the pills. Sasha and I are good friends of his with history. Paul and I have been friends since early high school. He hooks us up with a huge discount, setting the price at nearly what he spent to acquire the fun tabs, according to him. After we purchase our pills, two for Sasha and two for me, I tell Paul I don’t have the currency on me right now. Paul says he’s cool with me paying him later. We take our pills, two at a time, double-stacking the fun. With all three of us in smiles, we look at each other, laughing and talking about fun nonsense as we anticipate the efficacy of the pills Paul brought us.

Fake pills have been plaguing party people recently, cheating poor fellow free-thinking fun-lovers out of their hard-earned cash and a hardcore roll. Rolling is what it’s called when the ecstasy takes effect.

The waiting game is no fun and ecstasy takes a good hour to work its way through the body and arrive where it needs to go: the brain. Paul assures us the pills are real and suggests we get into the hot tub to help us relax. The three of us walk through the middle of Paul’s parents’ house. With each step we anticipate the onset of the promised experience a little bit more. I barely notice the tall ceilings of the newly renovated addition to the house as I walk through it.

The hot tub is dark and inactive. With a few presses of some buttons I’m positively thrilled Paul knows the secrets to, the jets fire up. The color-changing lights under the water turn on bright enough to light up the immediate area around the hot tub. This is nice since otherwise it’s dark, cold, and snowy outside, and totally uninviting to an ecstasy-fueled funfest without the glow of the hot tub lights. I just don’t want to think tonight; I’ve done enough thinking the past couple of weeks. The breakup I just experienced left me weary. All I want to do is forget about it and have fun. Sasha and I strip down to our underwear and climb into the bubbling hot tub. Paul runs back inside the house while saying, I need to grab something.

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Before getting into the hot tub, Paul is smart enough to turn lights on just outside the back of the house to further light up the area around the steaming hot tub. He also hooks up his laptop to a set of decent speakers so we can listen to some nice steady rhythms through an open screened window right next to the hot tub.

As our pills course through our systems on a date with euphoric destiny, the story of my recent breakup is of top concern to Paul and Sasha. With plenty of clean towels, cigarettes, and beer, Paul and Sasha finally coax me into telling them how my ex girlfriend and I split up after a year and a half of being together.

I share an apartment with four, sometimes five other people at a time, including Sasha, a few of her friends, and my ex-girlfriend Donna. There’s always a party going on. The apartment is sometimes jokingly referred to as a crack house, but we never do crack, at least that I know of, and it’s obviously not a house. We just smoke a bunch of tobacco and marijuana and drink alcohol. We mind our noise level as best as we can to keep from having the authorities called.

One night when I went to hang out with another group of friends, my girlfriend invited another guy over. Donna’s friend was supposed to be just a friend, back from being out of town. When I returned to the apartment a little earlier than expected, I found Donna with her head resting in the asshole’s lap! I naturally became enraged. Donna realized I was home and, full of guilt, flung her head up from the cozy cranny of the creep’s excited loins. I wouldn’t entertain any explanation as she attempted to weasel her way out of the situation, trying to fix something that had been totally blown to bits. I can’t trust Donna with my passionate, yet, shattered heart ever again. She proved to me I can do better than her. That doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt, though. Being betrayed by those whom you’re supposed to be able to trust is one of the most insulting and exacerbating ironies.

With the hot tub heated to almost blisteringly hot, Sasha, Paul, and I, already thirty minutes into anticipating our initial peaks, continue to wait for our pills to take hold. We sit in the hot tub as the icy wind blows over the top of our heads, freezing our wet hair if we’re out of the water for too long.

After hearing my sob story, Paul jumps out of the hot tub and disappears back into the house to switch on different music of the pulsing electronic variety. Turned up not too loud, the decent speakers flood our area with quality vibration. Sasha and I listen as the music becomes more and more vibrant, and our bodies more and more fluid with the essence of the moment. Sasha and I suddenly realize the rest of our clothes are no longer required and it’s time to shed them.

The water’s surface is the most impressive thing I’ve seen tonight, with cycling colors shining through the rippling water. Sasha is sitting naked at the other end of the tub. I notice a sight alien to me: her perfect breasts floating just below the waterline. I realize I’m staring and immediately turn away, remembering she’s my cousin and society says it’s wrong to be attracted to your cousin. If she wasn’t my cousin I would slide over to her side of the hot tub and do all sorts of things to her body to enhance those sensations she is obviously experiencing. But I’m not the kind of person who would do those things to my cousin, and the mere thought counter-productively brings me down. Diverting my eyes from forbidden lust, I realize the hot tub is pretty large, big enough to hold four or five people. I wonder where Paul is? The hot tub’s jets are relaxing as the music flows along with the fluidity of the water. Sasha’s pills are noticeably taking effect as she sits directly on one of the jets with three on her back. I position myself with a pair of jets underneath me and the subsequent sensation sends me into outer space. Is it the ecstasy taking effect, or is my mind creating these enhanced sensations through some kind of placebo effect?

In a few minutes it does not matter. After a couple of songs cycle through on the laptop, Sasha and I, while talking and joking around about our upcoming week of fun, all of a sudden look at each other with fervor. In mid-hit of our respective cigarettes, we realize, to our limitless contentment, the ecstasy is the real thing! Our expectations have been met in every way and more as we are completely blown away! The only question remaining within my unnaturally excited and unhinged mind is: Where is Paul?

Paul finally returns to the hot tub, also rolling hard on the quality drugs, showing teeth through his chewing of a heavily burdened baby pacifier. To my intense curiosity he’s not alone. He’s brought another person with him, a shorter, thinner figure with feminine qualities masked in shadow cast by the outside house lights. Everything is dark except for the light where Sasha and I sit with the jets pushing warm, sensory-exploding water past our hyper-sensitized skin. Paul introduces the newcomer and tells us her name is Jen. Introductions ensue as Sasha and I implore Paul and Jen to get into the hot tub with us; this is where the love and heat are and apparently Jen has just taken a few pills herself!

The two pile into the hot tub and conversations continue as we make Jen feel welcome every way we know how. Jen relaxes into her side of the four cornered hot tub. I can finally see who I’m talking to. She’s a miracle to an extent I’m not, nor could ever be fully aware of. Her face is that of an angel painted by a grandmaster, delicate details fully fleshed out and realized. All my insane, drugged attention is now placed on this girl and her adorable features, and all I want to do is make her feel amazing! She says she’s eighteen, but she could easily be younger. She feels familiar somehow. I’m sure this unexpected feeling of unsubstantiated familiarity will either pass or produce some sort of remembered provocation to satisfy my curiosity. Her beautiful blue-green eyes are as bright as the light shining into them. She has lips that pout even while smiling, perfect for kissing, which is now the thing to do with this girl! Not until I learn a little more about her and gain her approval for mouth-to-mouth communication.

More conversation as the pills take their time with our new best friend. Jen is still wearing a t-shirt, which I mention would be a lot more comfortable if removed. Hesitating for an instant, Jen describes her desire to take her t-shirt off. I help as she stands up in the hot tub to make the wet t-shirt removal as easy as it can be while peaking on hard drugs. As I peel off her wet t-shirt her beautiful, milky white skin is revealed with a white bra covering her beautiful blooming breasts. She doesn’t mind the shorts she has on, so they stay. Paul’s shorts stay on as well. He watches in awe as we all have the fun floating around in his parents’ hot tub.

With the electronic music pulsing in the background in perfect sync with our actions, I ask Jen if I can kiss her and she doesn’t refuse. In fact, she doesn’t verbally say anything at all, but motions with her glorious face for me to come over to her side of the hot tub. To my upmost primordial delight stemming back within my person to the beginning of desire and conquest, I will have my way with her! Lacking proper oral-fixation-easing gear, Jen and I decide to make our mouths the objects of each other’s boundless oral fixation and proceed to make out. Time disappears as I lose myself in her voluptuous lips and she cries out in pleasure’s madness: Nothing sexual! I acknowledge her plea; I don’t want to ruin the night with my overwhelming urges fueled further by euphoria inducing, serotonin flooding drugs. I could easily take this goddess in my arms and part her body with my throbbing, lusting excitement! It’s the best feeling in the whole world, body wide, to lose myself in this stranger’s being. We seem to become one, fully understanding and loving each other as the world around us fades away from our perceptions. Even an accidental tooth bump can’t shake our want for each other’s mouths and attention. Indeed, any make out foul that would be awkward outside of this experience is quickly cast off and forgotten. Into bliss we skip happily hand in hand without a care in the world, in an event that, for me, could last an eternity! The peaks of ecstasy driven pleasure are experienced by both of us as if we are the same person, feeling each other from the inside out. I’ve never felt intimacy of this intensity.

We shift position as though we are the only two in the hot tub. Jen excitedly sits on my lap as I situate myself directly underneath her voluptuous ass. I hold Jen, not too tight, and ask her if she would ever go out with me. She reacts as though she didn’t expect the question, but with minimal hesitation she smiles and tells me, You’re cool! We continue to make out.

Regardless of being on really good ecstasy, I can tell whatever I’m feeling is real. I want to bend the rules set by Jen and venture south with my finger to enhance her experience by messaging her clitoris. Though, I refrain from this out of respect for her. This girl, Jen, is a very special girl within my distorted perception and pleasing her on her terms is the perfect way for me to spend my night rolling my nuts off!

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Nothing lasts forever as a perfect experience is interrupted by the untimely arrival of my ex-girlfriend Donna. She makes her presence, and my broken fantasy, known with the flash of a disposable camera as she snaps a shot of Jen and me in heated, drugged-out passion with my head wrapped around her neck. I can’t wait to see what the picture looks like! The light from the flash quickly wakes my mind from the blissful dream that is kissing Jen’s lips. Golden opportunity has now turned into my own personal nightmare of clashing past love and present lust. Donna is obviously attempting to hide her rage about Jen and I making out. Invited by Paul for unknown, and at this time unimportant reasons, Donna has taken a few pills and I can tell her roll is coming on strong. I can see the physical precursors in her skewed, jealous attempt at intimidation.

Jen exits the hot tub as a couple more of Sasha’s friends arrive; however, they’re not joining in the pill popping experience. I stay in the hot tub, still rolling hard and wondering where Jen is running off to. She shouldn’t let Donna get to her. Not paying any attention to my ex, in my naked splendor I excitedly welcome Sasha’s friends as feelings of hostility and anger flow over me. Where these feelings are coming from, I cannot say; though, I know they are not my own.

The hostile feelings subside and are replaced with feelings of constant need and want I can only define as a consuming and endearing adoration for a stranger whom I just had the serendipitous pleasure of making out with. My attention is not on the angry and desperate Donna, but anchored in a more pressing matter: Jen was here and now she’s not! She went inside the house after Donna expressed her hypocritical distaste for our scene she crashed. My night, my life, is not complete with out Jen!

I search the ground next to the hot tub for a towel and find one easily, exit the hot tub and commit to searching for Jen within Paul’s parents’ house. I make my way past Donna and enter the house through the room where the electronic music is playing. Passing by the fantastic devices needed to supply the night with the right music, I cannot help but digress mentally, if only for an instant, to enjoy the choice tunes and feel the vibrations echoing throughout my body. The music picks me up with its happy vibration and propels me toward my determination: Jen must be found! I need to be around her and know what she’s doing! I couldn’t find another like her if I waited for the universe to begin again. But really, what do I know, right? After all, I’ve only known this girl for a few hours. Still, there’s this unexplained sense of familiarity. Maybe I knew her in my past, or even a past life, who knows? All I know is I must find her at once!

After I make it through the small room where the music is playing, the house opens up into a huge living area and kitchen where I wander in a towel near Sasha’s friends (my roommates). They stand with confused, but entertained faces and ask me if I’m having a great time. I am; as long as I can be with Jen again, everything will be just fine! I ask my roommates if they know where Jen went. After they confess to having no clue, I resume my quest for my beloved Jen. Continuing past the kitchen area where my roommates have set up camp, I enter the office living area where I notice, as if for the first time, a nice television with a video game console on the floor in front of it, the new L-shaped couch, and a computer system in the corner with the typical office setup including a printer and fax combo. Someone likes to work at home. I have no idea who; I don’t know Paul’s family very well, just his siblings with whom I’ve smoked copious amounts of marijuana. The office living area is dead and dark since everyone is out by the hot tub or in the kitchen area, except for Jen. Paul has disappeared as well. Paul and Jen must be together, alone, somewhere in the house! With newly hatched paranoia and insecure thoughts of Paul and Jen fucking, I press onward toward the upstairs portion of another freshly renovated section of the house.

The stairs are a simple twelve step climb covered in the same nice carpeting as the office living area. I take each step with care since I don’t have any clothes on except a towel. I don’t want to accidentally slip and fall and spill my gonads everywhere for all to see. I’m freezing as I get closer to the top of the stairs. A few feet down the hall I can see faint light squeezing through the cracks of a bathroom door not closed all the way. The upstairs floor is also covered in nice carpeting, but more plush than the carpeting in the office living area and on the stairs. I wish I had the music with me; I miss the steady beat and the sweet bass. I feel the loneliest at the very top of the stairs while staring down the dark upstairs hallway with the only light emanating from a room I’m not sure I want to enter. Jen and Paul must be down this hall, I just have to give myself a push toward my lusty desires for young feminine flesh and hot ass. Dread turns into pulsing desire as I hear Jen’s voice coming from the room, then the sound of running water like someone’s drawing a bath. With the thought of my dreaded ex somewhere behind me, I tread on while pressing my toes into the plush carpet. This is the kind of carpet I’ve always wanted.

The closer I get to the bathroom door, the more I can understand what Jen is saying. There’s another voice; Paul is in there with Jen, but it doesn’t sound like our boy Paul has received any play from the goddess of worship. Perhaps I’m still in favor with her?

I eventually work up the courage to knock on the bathroom door. Out of sheer excitement and without a single word I barge in like I own the bathroom. My body is about to burst with desire for the goddess Jen, whom I know little of except she’s insanely gorgeous. Paul isn’t surprised to see me in the doorway. He is sitting in a chair he’s brought from his brother’s bedroom farther down the hall, but where is Jen? As I look at Paul he gives me an ushering gesture with his head and eyes as if he is saying: Hey that’s cool you’re here, but check this out. His gestures carry my belligerently fucked perception over to the right and down where the water is running in the tub and two milky white, silky smooth legs float in a couple inches of bathwater with some soap bubbles hiding her feet. Jen’s in the tub, not taking a bath, not completely naked, but shaving her immaculate legs. Her natural scent is carried by steam, along with a subtle bouquet from the soap, up onto my enamored olfactory nerve.

I ask her if she’s OK. She says yes as if the incident with Donna didn’t phase her. I practice silent listening as she describes her views on the world and religion and why it’s fucked up to her; Jen sees religion as a straitjacket. With her intelligently chosen words she articulately expounds on how the contradiction of freedom through restriction imposed on human nature acts as an unnecessary catalyst for the evolution of the mind. Who cares what aspects of religion she finds exasperating, why is Paul here?!

After a minute of listening to Jen speak her mind, I wait for silence and then ask her why she’s shaving her legs. She says it’s for when she starts peaking in the hot tub. She wants to feel what the heated water feels like against her smooth, freshly shaven legs. I smile silently and nod in agreement with her. That’s a fantastic idea!

Oh yeah, the hot tub! I feel like a fish-out-of-water, freezing my ass off. I really would like to get back into the hot tub, with the music and the lights and the people, but not without the girl. Paul can come too if he wants, but what I really want is to get Jen back into the hot tub with me so we can continue our night of sloppy wet kissing!

My damaged, clingy tendency toward relationships of any kind tells me to search out and adhere to anyone who gives me the time of day. It’s a small world; if you find someone desirable, you have to go for it until you know for sure whether or not the two of you are right for one another, don’t you? Plus, I’m in need of fresh companionship and Jen would be perfect for that. It couldn’t get more obvious she wants me!

Jen exits the bathtub and we start back downstairs toward the kitchen. It occurs to me Paul could also have feelings for Jen. Watching Jen and I make out may have angered him way more than he’s capable of expressing right now because he’s rolling way out of his mind on ecstasy. I could cut his leg off and he’d still love me. I don’t want to hurt Paul, though, that’s for certain. He has been there for me in the past and I don’t want to be disrespectful toward him if I can help it.

Donna is in the kitchen drinking alcohol, taking pictures and talking with Sasha and friends. Jen, Paul and I mix back in with the group. Eventually, after a few exchanges with Sasha and her friends, Jen, Paul and I find ourselves in the hot tub again. This time, just the three of us alone in the hot tub with the pulsing music and heated water to guide our minds to limitless euphoric contentment. Paul sits behind Jen, in perfect position to give her a shoulder and neck massage! What’s this?! That’s my hot new girl, not Paul’s! He is the one who invited her to his parents’ house. Though, she doesn’t seem into him in that way.

It doesn’t take long for Jen to mention her feet could also be massaged, and I should be the one to do the massaging! I slowly maneuver around to the side of the hot tub where Jen’s feet are floating. To my most excellent surprise she has the most perfect feet ever, fit for a goddess; every perfect toe in its perfect little spot, straight and proportional to the rest of her body. Up until this moment I haven’t had a sexual fetish, but these perfect milky white feet are actually making my excitement manifest physically! I slowly begin rubbing Jen’s feet, her skin slippery from the hot tub water; it’s like her feet have oil on them. Her floating feet nearly drift into my half-massed naked flesh. She’s the most incredibly sexy person I’ve ever wanted to know more completely, and right now her feet demand my attention!

I can tell Jen likes what we are doing to her; she’s receiving the royal treatment: a weightless massage from two different directions. Our massage continues with trance-inducing techno and the soft sound of banter from inside the house. Nothing matters except for what is in my hands this very moment. Jen’s feet look as good as dinner after not eating for a day! Her toes spread out in anticipation of each caress as I take major pride in the work I do for her. Paul’s enjoying himself also, but it’s of little concern to me as I experience a potent aphrodisiac in the form of a newly found foot fetish and the hardcore euphoria of the ecstasy riding my ass all the way home! With Jen’s perfect face etched in pleasure, I’m eager to help make her night a brilliant one.

Her toes open up again as I massage each individually. Her right big toe beckons me closer so it can tell me a secret, perhaps what it’s like to be a part of this beautiful woman’s body. I get in closer to her toe while working on Jen’s whole foot. A wave of impetuous desire compels my drooling, lusting mouth onto Jen’s big toe and before I know what’s happening I’m sucking on all of her toes. This cures my oral fixation and my longing to be intimate with Jen, but I also feel a sense of dread establish within the depths of my artificially excited mind. The toe sucking will end at some point. Damn it, if only I could stay hanging off the end of Jen’s toes forever! I’m wishing for perpetual toe sucking.

After what seems like hours of fully realized excitement pass, the hot tub is abandoned by most. I stay; I don’t want tonight to end. Jen returns with a towel and Paul following closely behind. They mention something about it being too cold outside and I should come inside where it’s warm. I acknowledge the warmth inside the house and grab the towel. Looking back at the hot tub, I remember the night for its intensity; it couldn’t have been done better from my perspective. Reliving key moments of the night in my mind as I follow Jen and Paul, I remember the camera Donna brought and the picture she took of Jen and I in our heated make out session. Curious as to whether or not the picture will turn out, I wander inside the warm house, still rolling hard, but crashing, and mentally feeling out a path toward smoking a pipe of marijuana later once the real crash starts. The marijuana will be useful tomorrow when we’re all cracked out from rolling so hard. We’re all in luck because, being the marijuana snob I am, I always have the best kind of marijuana on me. I know we’ll be sufficiently tranquilized tomorrow if we need it.

I finally make it into the kitchen area where everyone is gathering to take a picture to remember this night for all time. Using the disposable camera Donna brought, Jen, Paul, Sasha, Donna, and I sit in front of a massive fireplace in the newly renovated living area. In the best possible effort to humor Sasha’s female friend taking the picture, we all squeeze out a smiley demeanor through our tightly wound jaws, smiling gleefully, with me sneaking a glimpse of Jen and her coveted features.

It’s been a long night of discovery and we all can feel the exhaustion setting in as the pills’ effects start to fade. Sasha’s friends and Donna leave for our shared apartment. Sasha, Jen, Paul and I find separate places to crash within Paul’s parents’ house and allow the night to pass into cherished memory. My only wish, as my eyes rest shut and my mind begins to drift into the blackness of my eyelids, is for Jen to still be here when I wake up.

4

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After a night of dreamless sleep and no real rest achieved, I awaken to my desire for Jen and the knowledge of her whereabouts. Did she stay the whole night? Or did she leave in the early morning like a one-night-stand? I peer though my cloudy contact lenses and attempt to understand my surroundings. My eyes are thoroughly irritated from wearing my contact lenses in the hot tub and overnight. It’s late in the morning and after a few seconds of looking around I happily notice I’m not the first to awaken. Jen is in the kitchen area making coffee as I sit practically paralyzed with delight. She notices I’m awake and I quickly cease staring. I give her a pathetic wave as she says with a warm and comforting smile, Good morning!

I ask, How long have you been up? Perhaps I could strike up a conversation with her.

I just woke up actually, she answers my question as if she knows where I’m going with my words before I form them in my mind. While she finishes making coffee in the kitchen area, I ask her about Paul. To my relief she doesn’t know where he is or where he passed out last night. This means they didn’t fuck, at least that’s what I hope it means. Something about Jen in the kitchen, with her masterfully employing the coffee machine, turns me on. She’s so beautiful; the drugs hadn’t lied about that last night. Flashes of our make out session in the hot tub flicker in my mind and reaffirm my intense feelings for her. She pours me a cup of coffee without me asking, knowing I would like some, somehow.

As she walks through the adjoined living area toward the couch I’m sitting on, I move over to give Jen room to sit down. I have difficulty talking to her without the ecstasy taking away my inherent inhibitions toward beautiful girls. I try desperately not to let my inhibitions get in the way of our interaction. She’s very open about her chaotic past and neurotic family, what she does scholastically and for work. She currently works at a coffee shop of all places.

She asks me questions which I turn into stories of my own. I speak of my family, which leads to the unfortunate and tragic story of my mother’s death a few years ago. Jen says she’s sorry. I shrug it off without going into too much detail, not letting my potentially depressing story bring this goddess’ emotional state down in any way.

I keep losing myself in her eyes. The feeling of not wanting to disappoint her keeps jumping into the foreground of my mind, inhibiting proper expression of my thoughts. The coffee helps me focus my attention on what I wish to say.

After we drink our cups of coffee, I ask her if she wants to smoke a pipe of marijuana with me. To my delight, she agrees, just as reality walks into the large kitchen and living area dragging Paul and Sasha with it. They both look like they didn’t get the best sleep last night. Asking about who made the coffee and where it is, they seem to be using only a few of their senses. This is disrupting the situation Jen and I had flowing. Maybe they would like to partake in the wake-and-bake session as well? Without a moment of hesitation, at practically the same time and pitch, Paul and Sasha express their most sincere desire to smoke quality marijuana.

I go out into the blinding sun to find my car where in the center consol I keep my pipe and bag of marijuana in a tiny cloth sack with a pull string. I take my cloth sack into the office living area and sit on the L-shaped couch. Quickly, I pack my pipe with little crystallized orange hairs of some unknown strain, nearly overflowing the bowl of my pipe. I pass my pipe unhesitatingly to Paul and thank him for coming through so well last night. He attempts to hit the pipe, but the bowl is packed too tightly for any air to pass through. Not only does the marijuana not light, but the flame from the lighter burns Paul’s thumb! Paul curses the lighter and says I should be permanently banned from packing anymore pipes in the future. Even though he was joking, or at least wanted to sound like he was, my pride is hurt. I look at Jen to see if she thought it was funny, but she is more worried about the marijuana spilling onto the ground. Sasha is waiting patiently on the L-shaped couch for Paul to dump the bowl out, break up the marijuana more completely and repack the bowl according to his personal ideal correctness of the procedure. Paul tells us we should smoke outside to keep the house from smelling like marijuana. Everyone finds proper attire for the freezing temperature and we venture outside to smoke in the garage.

Out in the garage, with my pride swallowed, I just watch as Paul hands the appropriately packed pipe to Jen for the first hit. We all stand in a circle, taking two deep puffs each and then passing the pipe on to the next person. I’m last in rotation out of atonement for packing the pipe awkwardly. I instinctively want everyone to feel as comfortable as possible today. Since we had so much fun last night, universal balance dictates we pay for it today. Paul explains, The rebound associated with the deficit of serotonin in our brains is making us all unnaturally depressed and melancholy.

Even through all of the emotional unpleasantness, I’m still happy to be standing next to Jen. I feel warmth from Jen as she and Paul talk. Jen is philosophizing about material objects keeping the mind from realizing its omnipresent nature. I catch glimpses of Jen’s eyes looking toward me as I listen to the sounds of the voices around me, though not making any coherent sense of them. My attention is focused on the glorious motion of Jen’s mouth as she talks. From puff to puff I become higher, higher, and higher. With every rotation around the circle, I watch as Jen models her beautiful features for me. It’s easy to do this and not look like I’m staring when Jen is talking. The warmth I feel emanating from Jen feels like raw energy being willfully and intelligently directed toward me. The world seems like a different place now. I feel Jen is a part of this new world, and has been for some time. But how do I know this, and how did I come to be here in my awareness? I feel Jen’s energy reaching out to me.

The conversation between my three friends continues, thankfully, as we finish the pipe and all four of us begin craving a post-pipe cigarette. Fine by me, I’m stunned by this reality I’ve stumbled into! I must continue pretending to listen while feeling Jen’s warmth. I must understand what is happening and what it all means!

The conversation carries on. Jen smokes her cigarette like a true veteran of the perverse tradition, French inhale and all (French inhale is when a small amount of smoke is released from the mouth and inhaled through the nose). You can tell she’s been smoking for a while.

It’s still very cold outside, even though the sun is shining brightly and there isn’t a cloud in the sky. While trying to understand the warmth I feel coming from Jen, I realize everyone is done with their cigarettes. It’s time to go back inside and watch a movie. What kind of movie means little to me as my mind attempts to digest the information recently presented to me. Does Jen really like me? The possibility alone carries me from one moment to the next as I follow everyone back inside.

After Paul and Sasha gather us up some drinks and simple prepackaged food items from the kitchen, we watch a movie on the television in the office living area. Jen and I sit next to each other on the L-shaped couch. Without the icy elements dissipating the warmth from Jen, our coalescing warmth quickly escalates into a feeling of hotness between us. This hotness translates into my sexual arousal and I know Jen is sexually aroused as well. In fact, I can tell she is considerably horny! This realization causes excitement throughout my body, and it feels as though she and I are the only two who are aware of this exchange. Yes, an exchange, that’s what this feels like: an exchange of energy and information between two individuals. I’ve never heard of anything like this actually happening before, except in new age circles and science fiction. Either this form of psychic communication has not been documented appropriately or I’m extremely ignorant. Both or neither could be the truth I seek. I must sit and feel the energy Jen presents to me; it’s pure and benevolent, like she’s come from another dimension just to tell me everything’s going to be OK.

About an hour into the movie I’m delighted to realize Jen and I have been mentally making out this whole time. The heat exchanged between us is causing me to sweat underneath my shirt. Within my mind I picture Jen in various erotic positions, the two of us sliding together like two pieces of a fleshy jigsaw puzzle. As the mature scenes evolve within my imagination I can feel certain parts of Jen’s body becoming hotter than the rest of her, especially her stomach, thighs, and vagina. Sometimes the energy and heat seem to originate from her groin on command, like she’s controlling it. I’m learning very quickly. The energy I express toward her is pure in intent. I only wish to make her feel as amazing as possible. I’m aware of the same from her, and this makes me feel wonderful like we’re back in the hot tub again.

As I flow from mental manifestation to mental manifestation, I come to realize I can focus my energy and intention on Jen in a very specific way. If I concentrate hard enough on a particular part of her body, like her inner thigh, I can stimulate the area with my willful intention energetically expressed onto her body. With this astonishing realization, I focus all my pleasurable intention on Jen’s vagina. With my imagination and focus of will upon the energy flowing between us, I instinctively flex certain muscles and pulse a surge of energy into the middle of her groin pictured in my mind. There is an instant reaction; I can tell she felt my energy pulse as she fights to keep from fidgeting around. Paul and Sasha seem totally unaware of the amazing things transpiring only a few feet from them. Jen’s cheeks and mine are rosy from all the mentally focused energy flowing between us. Jen sits there next to me as if this is all second nature to her. I must be the last to know of this communication medium. It must be suppressed knowledge, or nobody talks about it. But here we are, two seemingly average human beings building, manipulating, and enjoying each others energy. We are consciously and intentionally creating mutual pleasure rivaling the intensity of the hot tub last night!

To my dismay the movie ends, as does my energy exchange with Jen. The heat between us dissipates almost instantly. I offer to pack a pipe. Paul says he’ll do it. I feel a jolt from Jen, I can tell. I look toward her and see her smiling; not because anything’s funny, but because she wants me to let go of any pride causing me to be angry at Paul for him insisting he pack my pipe this time. For what reason Jen is mentally expressing this toward me and whether or not she actually means to express it, I do not know; however, I hear and feel everything anyway. Sasha is sitting next to Paul and agrees with him since in her words I clearly can’t pack a pipe right! I hand over my pipe and bag of marijuana to Paul. Within moments there’s a full pipe ready to go. Out to the garage we go, this time with me happily bringing up the rear.

Outside we discuss the movie. I again do little talking with my mind primarily elsewhere. Just what was going on between Jen and me? How is it possible Paul and Sasha weren’t able to perceive the energy I exchanged with Jen? They either didn’t want to, or they couldn’t. If they couldn’t perceive our energy exchange, then how were they prevented from doing so? My mind has been officially blown right out the back of my skull. In an instant my imagination produces a vivid moving image within my mind of my head under pressure. The mental manifestation of my mind is blown out the back of my imagined skull. Jen laughs, but I cannot tell if it’s because of the conversation occurring around me or the imagery from my mind she may have just experienced. The synchronistic coincidence is alarming and curious, especially since before meeting Jen, I thought telepathy was fantasy.

After my pipe’s been smoked, we all express hilarious satisfaction with the way my wonderful marijuana makes us feel. Paul says he can barely stand while Sasha and Jen sit on a bench. I notice the interior of the two-car garage looks less foreboding in the daytime than at night, but that could be my old fear of the dark talking. On the farther side of the garage there are things boxed up and stashed for spring and summer time. I can see the sun shining through a window on the far wall. The sun is setting in late afternoon, still a few more months before spring arrives. I wish spring were here now, the cold gets to me too easily. Conversation between my three comrades continues as I begin to rest my mind. I pull out my pack of cigarettes, light one and take a hit. Paul asks me for one with his fingers. Sasha and Jen each have a cigarette lit immediately following.

Are we set on some predesigned pattern of self-destruction? Are we hopelessly fastened to a cycle of death meant to siphon not just our hard earned currency, but our very lives as well? I inhale my cigarette smoke and notice the difference between this smoke and marijuana smoke. This smoke of the commercialized cigarette is a prescribed poison, a bouquet of chemicals hand picked to keep you addicted to smoking cigarettes no matter what. As I listen to Sasha and Paul debate on which movie to watch next, I feel an energetic affirmation from Jen. This mode of communication is direct. There is no need for any interpretation when her expressions flow through my mind, I hear her loud and clear, while Paul and Sasha seem unable to. I watch Jen as she takes a heavy hit from her cigarette, little gestural nuances hinting she does want to be free from the shackles of her cigarette addiction. The act of cigarette smoking is so invasive to ones life; not just physically, but with one’s time as well. The thought of the amount of time wasted thinking about smoking cigarettes or planning out the next smoke is exasperating to me; I don’t show it to keep from bringing everyone down more than they already are. We all walk back inside after disposing our smoked cigarettes in an empty beer bottle.

I’m happy to have my designated seat next to Jen again. Jen decides on the next movie. I’ve never seen this movie before and it looks like it could be good. My attention though is not on the movie we’re about to watch, but on the moving mental manifestations of my imagination. Even before Paul has set up the movie to be watched, Jen and I have been interlocked in a mental tango. Once again, I’m assured with absolute certainty Paul and Sasha cannot perceive my mental entanglement with Jen. Jen wants me to go deeper into her being as I pickup where I left off by stimulating her precious core. I feel something different, superimposed onto her own energy as she focuses upon my core and excitement. I feel her warmth permeate throughout my body. My lungs begin to heal as every cell is being lead toward the most efficient means of regeneration. What is this? My programmed rationality says this cannot be real. Jen is causing my body to regenerate not just lung tissue at an increased rate, but other organs as well, including my brain judging by the subtle but gradually intensifying cognitive improvements I’m experiencing. I can feel her body healing along with mine. The source of this healing energy seems to be Jen’s chest, as if there is some sort of array or core where her heart is pulsing with restorative power. I cough slightly as my lungs continue to heal and I’m made aware she’s not doing the healing — my own body is healing itself! She is simply the catalyst for this reaction since I don’t know the synaptic pathway to make this healing reaction possible without her assistance.

The movie continues while Jen and I focus on each other, healing and loving. I sense Sasha has somehow become aware of what Jen and I are doing. Like a skittish kitten Jen recedes her influence from my body. The regeneration effect fades and our exchange of energy and heat ceases as Sasha takes a glance at us. With the look on her face I can tell she knows there is something going on. I hope Sasha, being a curious sort, doesn’t screw things up with Jen and I by asking questions! I don’t have a clue what’s