bouzoucarnation and death

I died, as I wanted today. It was the same typical day before the “godly” weekend for the average Greek. So many people pilled up again this Friday night in my would-be favorite bouzouki place, were I a devoted fan of this music. Instead it was the place where I would spend some carefree moments, lost between the misty highlands of the typical Greek entertaining club. Where the dew from the first cigarettes surfaces slowly through the tables, rising in the starlit roof. In front of the bright lights looming over the dance floor deep in the night turning into day at the debut of every light bringing musical hit. I would gaze upon the constellations on that sky as the projectors spark in the distance; I would stay there wishing a star would fall so I can make a wish. But it was like there was no supernova; life would still thrive in those distant stars and everything remained glued in its place like an unseen force kept them there in contrast to the laws of gravity. It was the same laws that seemed to be present during my journey to the lower atmosphere as I was crossing the mist, enflamed in the bright light of the blinding spotlights. The crowd was like a giant mass before I jumped. So many targets that seemed to break once in a while from the mass that was waving in this oriental oriented music. Quivering like snakes in a giant cradle, intoxicated by the sounds of the grand magician that ruled the foothills of the misty mountains of the dance floor. There were many of them with different ranks but I waited patiently for the master high priest to make an entry, anointing his disciples through the rites of his religious teachings. Spreading “the word” as the crowd would cheer in ecstasy flooding the ground he walked upon with carnations- a symbol of religious love-respect and recognition to his teachings. I saw the crowd again reminiscing in the images the psalms offered them, those of post loves and the shuttering of their heart over the loss of the prolonged sexual integration with the artist in every verse. I had to find an eligible target…

Maybe I targeted the bosom of plenty, the woman with the white shirt carried as an offering to appease the “God-Dog”. That woman standing on a table, making breast waves that fluctuated with the orchestral tempo. I probably thought of my failure to terminate my existence should it happen I dived between her breasts with a great splash that would cover the people in the vicinity with breast drops. That would be an unfitting end to drown in the abyss of those tidal waves in that titsunami or even worse to survive swimming my way to the closest island. Bearing that in mind I made a spectacular change in midair, a product of all these dance lessons that I finally got to put to good use. My stage dive took a turn as I made my way on the big Cuban cigar of a well-respected politician, swirling like a super hero around it somewhere on the label that read, ”Made in China” and with a double swing I ended smack in the face of the master priest with a tremendous speed like a shooting star, around the time he was singing: “Your love was like a poisoned bladder, you got me grounded six feet under”[a great success I might add]. The impact was so hard that our bodies melded into one. You could no longer discern two separate human beings. We became a heap of flesh, carnations and shining-glitter covered cloths…

After the smoke cleared, there was only a big shinning ball of many unidentified objects. Like those balloons filled with helium that your parents bought you in the fair along with caramel apples. We felt we were rising on the air flying towards the big light-stars with an increasing speed. It was all so bright, like a big star going supernova. We closed our eyes…

In what I thought was the next day I opened my eyes. I was bathed in light and beautiful angelic like creatures in white gowns seduced me with their continuous rhythmical moves. Cherubs with black wings swirled in front and around me. I felt my body shining in the divine light and I sensed the touch of rose pedals on my face. Then my lips moved all by themselves in a praise to the lord all mighty…

“Your love was like a poisoned bladder, you got me grounded six feet under”

Indeed death is not the end. It is merely the next step to a different world…