The Visit

He told me that this pill would initially intensify the symptoms, but that I would definitely feel better afterwards. Yes, I felt very chaotic in my head, doubted everything I thought or read, and felt like I had constant hug boners.

But then again, that was already the case for several years, I had to do something, didn’t I? Still, to be on the safe side, I locked myself in my student room to kick the habit, because if I had to go out on the street, I would jump on every female creature like a gel-spitting zombie and AAAAH!

Ding dong. The doorbell rang?

What should I do in this state, stay calm and go and see who it is? Yes, that seemed like a good idea.

Sweat beaded on my body and was sucked into the floor by the strong pull of gravity, where it immediately evaporated into an animalistic smell. I slunk downstairs and opened the door of the student house. There she stood, a beautiful female Jehovah’s Witness, and I suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to cure her.

I led her up the stairs, steaming with lust, straight to my room. She paused for a moment in front of my door, looking frantically at the Fellini poster, on which a naked woman with six breasts and as many nipples was crawling on all fours, kissing my desires. She decided to come in after all.

The sun had just set and a night-red glow made sure I didn’t need to worry about the mood lighting and could start the game right away. I told her, in a slightly forced friendly tone, to sit down. She took out her religious books and stared suspiciously at the idolatrous figurines, provocative movie posters, and free-spirited sayings that adorned the room.

She was strangely quiet and didn’t know what to do with her beautiful smooth legs, hands, and lips, fidgeting a lot, probably thinking that she still had a lot of work to do here and that her task now was to save this lost sheep by herding it into a stable full of dead people.

Then she bit her lips with her two front teeth and began to hiss with her tongue.

A torrent of powerfully spiced words washed through my sacred space and she started talking to me about how faith has become taboo, wildly waving articles around – yes, I understood her and nay, this clashed with my ideas. I wanted to interrupt her – but she just kept rattling on. Fortunately, I still had my search history open on my laptop. I just had to click and hahaha, this would stop her.

Meanwhile, cautiously and looking her sweetly in the eyes, the images from my viewing box started. Shaved skin flickered across the screen.

She paused. Her eyeballs popped out and her chin fell to the floor, after which I, in an irresistible urge, raised my pride (my poetry collection, duh), shouting: “And this, is this also taboo, this body of fear, flesh, and senses!”

The foam stuck in the corners of my mouth and my eyes were like two little jumping atomic bombs: “And this, is this also taboo, this body of fear, flesh, and senses!”

The foam stuck in the corners of my mouth and my eyes were like two little jumping atomic bombs: “I am what I am, a man of flesh and blood, with a very strong desire!”

She looked at me with a grin, something clicked, she sat up straight and in a flash she rushed at me, her skin rough and hard, her fangs bared, she would convert me here and now to eternity!

I pushed her away and ran down the stairs, cursing and ranting that she herself was the devil. She stormed after me and forgot her books. I ran into the night, no one heard me, the streets were empty, she was faster and grabbed me by my belt.

A scream pierced the night.

Pressed against a wall covered in ugly graffiti, she ripped my clothes off and sucked the shit out of me until I sank to my knees and begged for forgiveness.

I woke up.

Now I sat there with a half-erection and a strange kind of guilt. Did I do something wrong, had I become an artifact in this world, an unwanted substance, or was this because of the pill from this homeopath?

It was time to get up, take a shower, a long shower, and make peace with the young man I am and the old man I can become, and maybe I should hang up different posters, those of Fellini and Polanski, Bitter Moon, replaced by one about the sea and dolphins and things that don’t scare women away or make them angry, and maybe in the future I should first look out the window to see who was at my door, and maybe…

Maybe I shouldn’t think too much about all that bullshit anymore, and just take one pill a day and live it.