The Downward Spiral

It was a cold day in November. That’s all he really knew as he got up. It was definitely cold. It was definitely November. But beyond that, it was just another day. Another day in the endless years behind, and in front, of him.

A funny thought pops in his head. That anymore he didn’t really keep track of day to day things. He smiles as he gets out of his equally cold bed that this used to all matter which day it was. Funny how things change.

Of course he knows it’s not really funny at all. But it’s the way it is now. And one needs to find humor where one can. Or.. well.. at least he thinks he probably should. That might keep him human a little longer.

So.. he’s up. He walks over to the mirror. “How long has it been since I stopped changing?” “How long .. since…?”

That used to matter to him too. He used to count the days. Used to mark it off on the calendar he used to have on his fridge. Now there is no calendar.. no fridge. No point really.

“Ok.. enough of this nihilism shit,” he thinks. Let’s get down to business. He walks over to the heavy black curtains on the windows, pushing them aside, and looks out from a 5th story window over the street below.

The city at night is always so amazing. People coming home from work. Head lights and tail lights bluring by. Red.. white.. red white. Flashes here.. flashes there. So many little lives traveling by. So many little thoughts. So many chances for interruption of the ebb and flow. So many points of failure. He closes his eyes and imagines what’s next. He sees it. He smiles. His smile turns in to a little laugh. “It’s almost pathetic, but damn it’s fun.” He knows what’s next… his eyes snap open. “oh ya.. clothes.”

As he scans the apartment for clothes he’s laid out, another funny thought on how his life has changed… he used to be a country kinda guy… used to admire the sunrise and sunset and the wheat fields not far to the west. He ran around a corn field as a kid… at least he’s pretty sure he did… maybe that was something he saw on TV. That is more likely actually. But now.. of course not. The city is his home.. and he’s a night person. Back to things not mattering anymore.. dammit.. and this one probably never mattered. “I’ve gotta get outta this apartment.”

He finds some clothes laying around.. and… “wow these need to be burned.” They are covered in something. He smells them closely. It smells like perfume and… “oh.. ya definitely burned.” He has a mall 10×10 incinerator for just such an occasion, and pops them in. As he hits the big red “go” button, he mocks a conversation “why no officer, I can’t tell you why I have an incinerator in my apartment.” The compact fireplace on steroids hums for a second, and then, like clockwork, he’s short one outfit.

So, over to the closest. Not that he really needs it, but he pops on the closet light. Black… all he sees is black. Black shirts.. black pants. Black shoes. Oh.. no.. there is one white shirt. “This is retarded. I need some new stuff.”

He looks over at the clock radio next to his bed… 7pm-ish. “Well.. maybe that’s what I’ll do tonight.” He smirks… “Ya and then maybe I’ll write a book… The Vampire’s New Clothes where .. he dons some purple and pink. Fuck that.” Black works. He gets dressed in the same thing he’s been wearing for years. But as he puts it on he convinces himself that not only does black work, but it’s his old friend. Just like the night. Just like what he needs to do. Just like what makes him smile.

He’s hungry, of course. That’s about the only reason to get out of bed anymore. And it’s a good one. He knows of around 5ish others like him around KC. And 3 of them hate themselves. They are always complaining about their existence. They call it a “curse”. “Man.. what worthless crybaby assholes.” He never hangs out with any of them. He’s pretty sure a stranger would be more fun. “Probably a gang member actually.” He laughs, “no not really.”

After his parents both died the rest of his family had split the inheritance and moved away on various adventures… all except him. KC was his home then and still is now. So he has his cable bill and his rent… both of which are more then adequately paid for from the settlement. The family had been pretty litigious all their life, so it was no surprise that when seat belts fail that the kids sue, and win. “Eat that one GM. They are subsidizing my life. How.. odd. I bet they never thought that would happen.” But otherwise, without any needs that can be bought at the local bar or super market, he’s set for life… smiling again.. “or you know.. whatever.”

Dressed now he checks himself out in the mirror. Still the same… just dressed. “Well.. let’s see what we can find tonight.” And he heads out the door.