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L.P. Bowman

Joined: 01 May 2004
Posts: 334
Location: Southwest Oklahoma
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Chapter 1

I hate hospitals. Practically everything about them. I hate the smell, the noise (or lack of)....hell I even hate the old ladies that have to sit at the front and give you directions. I know those ladies must be bored as hell having to pretend they care about where some sick ass person is so they can tell you what room the bastards are in and where the elevators are. They almost have a look of relief on their faces if they recognize you and know that you already know where the hell you are going so they don’t have to tell you where your sick ass friend or relative is.

I had to go though. It was almost like going to a funeral except at the hospital you actually have to talk to, or at least attempt to talk to the person you are coming to see. Obviously at a funeral you did not have to talk to the dead, but you do get caught with people wanting to cry and hug all over you and crap like that. And man, hugs and shit at the hospital were just not right. Hell you might catch something. Even if whoever was in the hospital had cancer or a heart problem, you still might catch something. After all they had been staying at a freakin hospital for god’s sake. Sickness everywhere. I think that must be why they smell is so goddamn bad. Sickness. Damn I hate being sick. And talk about one hell of a place to get close to it .....a freakin hospital.

I still had to go. Hell it wasn’t anyone’s fault. It was just that Les was dying and that was all there was to it. I mean if I didn’t go see him at the hospital I might not get to talk to him again. Not that he was any great condition to talk but hell I knew he would be very quiet at his funeral.

Les wasn’t even his real name. Some drunk ass girl thought it was at a party one night and man did we think that was freakin hilarious. She kept calling him Les and he just kept letting her. Of course he was so drunk he did not even realize it until we told him later. He said we were all crazy but we just kept calling him Les anyway and the name stuck. We were good at that....making names stick that is. Hell everyone of us had some dumb ass nickname that we just thought was funny as hell. Man were we funny.

Les did not look so good. He looked quite a bit like the melting man on Pink Floyd The Wall movie poster. I am not sure if that guy had a name but knowing Pink Floyd he probably did. I think he was supposed be in the process of melting from some bomb blast or something like that. Floyd lyrics always seemed to be referring to some damn war or a mistreated asshole that they felt like they needed to sing about. You know save this poor ass world with music shit. Les’s eyes were sunk in like craters which made his cheek bones look like two knives trying to poke out of his face. He had a seizure at home before his arrival to the hospital and they told us he had damn near bit his tongue off. So obviously Les did not have a whole hell of a lot to say. Although I think he did, he just knew he could not form any freakin words so he just stared at me looking sad as hell.

“Hey Les, “ I said with about as much enthusiasm as a man coming to see a dying man.

His eyes said it all. At least for what you could see of them. He stared at me like I was some lucky bastard and oh man would he like to be in my shoes. Not trade places, just be in my shoes.
It is hard to say much to a dying man.. I guess I have been so honest all my life I just couldn’t help myself.

“You look like shit,” I told him.

Les strained to smile. I have had that knack all of my life. To be brutally honest while in turn cheering people up. I mean he did like look like shit and he knew it. He also knew that I loved him no matter what he looked like and by telling him he looked like shit was my way of telling him I loved him. I guess if I did not care about people I would not take the time be so damn critical all of the time. Criticism and me are friends. Hell I have offended so many people over the years by just being honest I hate to even think about it. Truth and humor are like peas and carrots. Kind of like me and Les.

Les motioned for a hug. Hell we barely even shook hands before he got sick. After he was told he had cancer it seems like we hugged all the damn time. Cancer. What a twisted ass little fuckin disease for you. That shit eats you from the inside out and in Les’s case there was not a damn thing to do about it.

“You left your putter in my bag.”

Les made a motion for me to keep it. I think it was some last symbol for me to remember our friendship by. Hell, Les didn’t even really play golf. I had made him go with me. He was pretty damn sore from being cracked open in his last operation. They had basically sliced him open from his throat down to his dick. The doctor took one look at the shit eating up his organs and basically said “fuck it” and zipped him back up. After that Les could not even swing a golf club. All he did was putt and drink beer. We actually had a great time. Les wasn’t really into talking about death and all, so we just pretended like we were both going to live forever and played golf. You can do that on a golf course you know. Pretend you are going to live forever. That is why people like it so much.

I wanted to tell Les I would give him his putter back once he got out of this damn hospital. But this time Les wasn’t leaving and he and I both knew it. Man I hate hospitals. I was sitting in one of those damn chairs that folds out into a bed. Those things aren’t comfortable as a chair or a bed. Plus you can barely move the damn things and they sit down so low you can’t even see the person in the hospital bed. I was shifting around in the damn chair like a madman when Les waved his arm at me (the one without the big ass needle in it).

“What the hell do you want?” I was pretending to be irritated with the chair and all.

Les motioned at the VCR and pointed at some movies on a side table.

“I came all this way to see your sorry ass and you want me to watch a movie with you?”

I think it was Les’s way of passing some time so he wouldn’t have to hear me come up with some philosophical bullshit about life. He was hurting and I could tell. He pressed his most recent savior, the morphine drip button and slowly closed his eyes. Man did he look bad.

I looked through the movies we had both seen about three thousand times and tried to pick one out. Me and ole Les could watch those movies over and over now. Used to drive people crazy when they would come over to our house because we would always be watching the same damn matter what it was. I settled on one of our favorites, The Good The Bad and The Ugly. Once Les opened his eyes I displayed the video for his approval. I think he smiled with a slow nod. Damn that morphine was some powerful shit. It is a good thing because I could tell my friend was working on a slow, painful death.

Chapter 2

Imagine your soul has been opened for all to see,
Remember that it has not.
Seek knowledge not in desperation,
Seek wisdom not in vain.

Thought consumes your life
The mind loses the flow.
Find your spirit flying,
The world is yours to know.

Concepts become abstract when searching for the truth.

Philosophy was really never a part of my life until I read Nietzche. The only real reason I chose to read Nietzche was because I was a big Doors fan. In biographies written about Jim Morrison it said he was supposedly a big fan of Nietzche. And as you know Morrison was a freakin genius. Yeah, my ass. Poet maybe, but genius no. One of friends always said The Doors sounded like organ grinders. Now I can’t even listen to them without thinking about a freakin monkey jumping around on some fat guy spinning that crazy ass lever on the organ that looks like an ice cream stand. Anyway I decided to read that shit for that very dumb reason. After I struggled through Nietzche I decided he had confused me just enough for me to seek further guidance. I mean really. If you are smart enough to follow that shit you need to be locked up in the looney bin....exactly where good ole Friedrich ended up. Died there, the crazy bastard. Hell, just take a look at pictures of Nietzche.....he was crazy as a bed bug.

Anyway I went on to better books and thoughts. Probably the most dramatic shift in my life came when I read The Tao of Pooh written by good ole Ben Hoff. Not much on guidance but that book sure will make you calm your ass down. That tao stuff sure puts a spin on life. Don’t worry about a damn thing because it will happen anyway. That is the basic thought whether you like it or not.

As I found, a great amount of time and energy has been spent in order to determine the true meaning of one’s own existence. Many theories seem to be available and it seems that the producers of these theories would have us believe their theory is the only correct answer. The idiots that believe these theories are quick to let others know that they have found the true meaning of life and they feel damn sure it is their job to win you over to their way of thinking.

The comfort level alone of actually knowing why in the hell you are here has to be very gratifying. But for god’s sake leave me alone with your thoughts and ideas. You must decide for yourself why you are in this world or you will never be truly happy.

Eastwood just found the note from ole angel eyes (the Bad) and told the Ugly it was for him because the note said “idiots.” Man what a classic line in a great movie, which I have seen about three thousand times.

I had a big smile as I turned to Les to see if he was enjoying the flick as much as me. He was not asleep but by the look on his pathetic face he was obviously not enjoying the movie as much I was.

Les loved life as much or more than I did. We lived to be living. As we sat around drinking Crown Royal one night, which was definitely a treat for us poor ass college students, he said the ultimate salute to our lives. “Living is good.” It was as simple as that. Living is good. Man was he a genius, even more so than Morrison. Somehow as we took shot after shot of that fifth, with tap water in a tea glass to chase it, he had touched on the way.....the tao maybe. And what was so funny was that neither one of even realized the significance of his toast.

We said it together “Living is good,” clanked our little shot glasses his ex-wife just had to have, and slugged down the sweet whiskey. Why in the hell we chased that shit with tap water I will never know. Hell we didn’t even put ice in the water. Crown and luke warm water to chase. What in the hell were we thinking? I guess we weren’t really thinking and maybe that is why had so much fun with just the two of sitting there getting butt ass drunk and laughing like madmen.

Les stirred and opened his eyes as if he was looking for Jesus. He saw me and although he seemed to have some comfort with my vision, I think he was disappointed. Death had not arrived but the freakin pain was definitely still around. He pressed his button and seemed to take some gratification as the liquid savior released into his veins.

“What can I get you man?” I asked as if he was really going to tell me.

Les looked around the room and caught a glimpse of the movie. Great timing for the man that was dying because it was on the scene where that crazy ass captain who had been trying to win that bridge from the rebels for so long was dying. You know the Good and the Ugly go down and blow it up for the ole bastard right before he dies. As the captain watches the bridge blow he gets a nice smile on his face and then dies. As all that is happening the movie starts in with this awesome slow ass music and I mean talking about getting tears in your eyes. Man that movie is a classic, even for the three thousandth time.

I looked back at Les and he had gone back to morphine la la land. Good enough. The savior beat the pain but it sure wasn’t much for living. I wondered if he had caught the scene with the captain and wasn’t sure if he would receive any ironic final salute to the movie or not. I wondered if he even knew where the hell he was. I wondered if he even knew who the hell I was. I like to think he did. It was good for me to feel like he did.

Chapter 3

To young to die,
But will the pain subside?
Many wonder why,
The answer means nothing.

I used to believe in predestination. I think I still do but I am not sure. The good thing about predestination is that if you believe that it already written in “the book” how you are going to die, there is really not a whole lot of reason to worry about it too damn much.

Most people worry too damn much about everything. Worrying is a big waist of time and energy. Hell when Les found out he had cancer he was one worried son of bitch. I suppose there are some things that happen in your life that make it where you can’t help but worry.

I watched Les fighting for breath. The shit had started in his asshole and now was all over the poor bastard.

“Quit freakin’ worrying so much,” I said to Les as I shifted his pillow around to make some feeble attempt to make him more comfortable.

I looked into his eyes and there was nobody home. The liquid savior was obviously working modern medical miracles on my friend......or least what was left of him. I leaned over my friend and whispered in his ear.

“Come see me on the other side. Really come see me.”

Les’s eyes flashed as he stared into my soul. He did not speak or give me any definitive sign that he understood the command. I am quite sure that if Les could come see me he would. I suppose it is not that easy to make the journey from one side to the other, because have not seen that son of bitch since he died.

Angel eyes just got blown into his final resting spot by The Good. Man that is one long ass movie. I looked over at Les and he was looking intently at the tube. I thought that he may be thinking about his grave, although he had not picked out a place to be buried as far as I knew. I hated funerals but I hated hospitals too. I started getting pissed off thinking that the last place I was going to see my good friend was in a hospital bed crumpled and dried out like a dead rose.

if I ever finish this thing I expect you guys will have a website for me as well.....comments are welcomed and expected[/img]

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