Everything Starts With a Call

Happiness or tragedy, everything starts with a call. With us its always both. For as long as I can remember the feeling has always been the same. When we were younger, the call was fun, unassailable, the times I keep buried deep inside, safe from the elements and substances which have blurred some memories from existance. Now more than ever just the thought of the call causes nervousness, apprehension, and agony. Its only Wednesday and I am already starting to get THE FEAR.

For the desolate 48 hours which make up the weekend we are all at risk of the call. At the stroke of the first hour the fabric of our minds begin to fray. We walk around lifeless, knowing that any moment it will come for us. Constantly checking, phones, emails, IMs, to see if it already started. We know not why we do these things. Only that a power greater than our own self-control has faught and won ownership of our souls. We surrender ourselves to destiny. However we do everything in our power to fight it. Physical activites, calm, leisurely ones, past responsibilities we have put off so many times because of the call, but none can stop the unwarranted condition we find ourselves in.

The call always starts the same way. Its presence rocks the very foundation of the human body. The mind becomes filled with nightmarish thoughts, the nervous system starts on a chaotic collision course of the worst kind, like a dreadful traffic accident through your entire body. I’m talking about the ones in which they say you see nothing, all that you experience are the screams as your body is hurled through a massacre of bent steel and flesh. Next comes the mental and physical calamity which strikes every instance of your existance. What you are having is a near death experience, your entire life flashes before you and its only the bad, dark times which take precedent. Your heart sinks deep into your bowels and you instantly become sick. You can feel the little hairs on the back of your neck start to rise. You try to tell them, “Settle down boys, its fine.” But there’s no telling the mind what it already knows. The process has started and there is nothing you can do.

You slowly lift the phone to your ear and notice yourself shaking. Your eyes start to dim and get blurry, then all of a sudden your hearing goes. All that’s left is a busy signal resinating through your head. You wonder why your knuckles are white. Involuntarily your muscles have tighten up and your breath becomes restriced. Almost as if you are experiencing the effects of a deadly snake bite. You think to yourself. Are these my last moments? Then, as if a devine power has come down and touched you, you become calm. Your muscles relax and you can breath again. Just enough comfort to hit the talk button. And then it starts again…

The conversation begins. We talk in a language unkown to any particular time in history. Our neo-English dielect would make the Germanic settlers and Roman auxiliary troops of the fifth century role over in their graves. We use it almost as code. Our own interpretations of the ‘normal’ language. Doing so connects us in history to the persecuted peoples before us who were forced to create new languages in order to survive. Though we are not escaping persecution or death. Or are we? To a passerby or any educated persons this termonology would deaden the senses. Which is exactly why we do it. After minutes of truly saying nothing. The plot unravels and the soul begins to quiver. The choice has already been made for us. Long before THE FEAR shows its ugly self, our destiny had been chosen. I sometimes think its unfair. Why is it that I was chosen? Can I change my own destiny? Or is messing with something as grandoise as destiny too dangerous to try? In biblical fashion I bow down and commit to my obligation.

The funniest thing then happens, sometimes without ever realizing it. From the depths of my insides, stirring up my gut, striking through my heart and breath, rattling past my vocals, and bouncing off my tongue as it struggles to find daylight, The word, “Yes,” reaches the air.

Its Thursday now and THE FEAR is growing. When will I get the call? Will I be the call?

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