Tonight, as I enter my catacombs, I ignore the corridor of demons. Hate follows me with that stare – the never-ending stare as I head downstairs – straight to the bar.
I take my seat – the same seat every night.
The bartender is new today – the latest Lost Love. New Lost Loves and Dead Friends arrive whenever. Born – conjured – but seemingly never leave.
Like all the others, this Lost Love is naked – sensuous – perfect – untouchable. She doesn’t look at me – she knows what I want – even on her first day. She grabs the tequila bottle – pure agave – a high-quality Blanco. Served in a rocks glass – no ice.
Tonight, there will be entertainment – a show. With the band preparing on stage, the bar is crowded. A perfect Lost Love occupies every seat at the bar – chatting with each other – not chatting but flirting – not flirting – but preparing – preparing for the night in front of them. Dead Friends also crowd the bar and the dance floor. The pictures on the Wall of Resentment are warming up their voices.
The band assembles – a Lost Love is always the singer. Tonight, a Dead Friend will play guitar while Reclusion is at the bass and Delusion at the drums. All the demons from above are awake and ready for the show. Of course, Hate is staring – staring at me – ignoring the show.
The first song has a heavy beat energizing the crowd. I don’t catch all the lyrics – except the chorus.
As you call for us at night
We ridicule you in delight
As you lay in your bed
We know you wish you were dead
None of this came out of the blue
As no one will ever love you
You sit down here full of dread
Isn’t it time you blow off your fucking head
The second song is catchier – and the dance floor gets crowded. Crowded with Lost Loves, Dead Friends, and even a couple of demons who’ve come down from their cells. I pick up my drink and saunter over. I find one of the Lost Loves – in her naked perfection – dancing alone. I move closer and dance with her for a bit. She teases and flirts back – and starts gyrating against my body. She turns her face towards me. I lean in for the kiss – and get swiftly punched square in the face. As I fall backward, spilling my drink, I can hear the roaring laughter. Laughter from everyone – the Lost Loves staring down at me – the Dead Friends hanging from their nooses – the pictures of Resentment – and of course, the demons above. But the laughter I hear over all others is the piercing laughter of Ugliness. I feel the laughter of Ugliness enter my skin and penetrate my entire being.
I pick myself up, grab my glass, and head back to my seat. Another round is in order. I turn to the dance floor. Demons, Dead Friends, and Lost Loves start making out. They don’t care who they are kissing – as long as I can see it — the kissing moves to fondling and fondling moves to much more. Humiliation the Clown seems to be having the most fun – staring at me while it fucks one of the perfect Lost Loves as she squeals in delight. All the while, Ugliness’s cackling laughter fills the room, and Hate stares drills into my being.
The band continues – some lyrics I miss – some I pick out – being sung by everyone – everyone but me.
While everyone else has fun
You will always be just one
While you drink in that chair
None of us care
You have nowhere to run
And you don’t even have a gun
Since we don’t take cash for a fuck
Just play with yourself until your hand is muck
I sit in my chair – watching – listening to the chorus. Watching while excited, watching while hard, watching while frustrated. Watching until a painful release. That ends the show. I down the last of my drink and fall into the couch to sleep.