I've written this somewhere else on the net, where I go by a different identity. I liked it, so, it's just as good to post it here as well.
Once upon a time, many moons ago, I went to a good friend of mine's
house, to pay him a visit. We're the kind of old-school friends, we know
each other since the 6th grade. And we're both more or less the same
age, so it's someone I can relate to with issues about aging and so on,
without having to bother my younger friends about it.
Well, as I was saying, I went there to spend the weekend. Like I use to
do, from time to time. Yeah, he's that kinda buddy you go on a roadtrip
just to pay a visit. And you end up spending the whole weekend. We've
been doing this for ages, I swear. I guess ever since we met, in the 6th
grade. He used to get to visit me and spend the weekend as well, but
ever since he got married, he can't just do that, eh? Ah, married life.
Well, anyways, we got there, it was a hazy Friday like any other else.
We'd spend the night smoking weed and listening to Moby, it was the
"Play" era, so you'll see, many, many moons ago indeed. Then my friend went to another room, and came back with a box.
"Open it," he said. I frowned. It wasn't my birthday, no special date at all. A present?
I opened the box and gasped. It contained a dragon. One of those so-ever
detail-full(is there a word for this?) cautiously carved dragons,
mine's from India I think. True craftmanship. Even the long moustaches
are there. Yeah, it's one of them more oriental dragons, you know, the
serpentine ones, with flames on their shoulders, deer-like horns. My fucking favourite kind.
It was the most beautiful thing I've ever got as a present. It almost
brought me tears to my eyes, to receive such a gift. And for no reason
at all. He was travelling, spotted the dragon at a store, and thought,
"Damn! This would make a helluva present for my buddy."
This friend of mine, he's a special kind of friend. You know, those
buddies-for-life you sometimes have the luck stumbling upon? I consider
myself lucky to have met him all those years ago. He's the brother I
wished I had, instead of my "real" brother. He's been a beacon of light
throughout the darkness of my life, sometimes.
The day he gave me Gideon, I was...welll, in shortage of fancier terms, flabbergasted. I couldn't even thank him properly, because I was, well, astonished outta my fucking head. But he knows it's been the BEST gift ever.
And I got it. Yes, I've seen bigger ones, more coloured ones, more luxurious dragons on stores around.
But no one it's just like the one I got right here, next to me. Sitting
on my desk. He's so special to me, he means so much to me, that I've
sort of transformed him into my "Hobbes" - he's like my pet. Imaginary
pet, of course. And I named him Gideon (not related to the furry artist
who goes by the same alias in any way), I just don't know why. The name
popped into my head, the first time I saw him alive, twirling around,
and scratching all my things. Gideon - after all, according to the good
ol' Wikipedia, it means "destroyer" - and that's what he does sometimes.
Crazy, I know. If there was someone reading this, they would stop around here and leave the page - "Guy's nuts, indeed."
Well, that is truer than you think - normal would be the last adjective
I'd pick to describe me. In fact, it does not apply at all.
Yes, I've got a dragon for a pet. He lights my cigarrettes with his
fiery breath, and sits on top of my head warming my shaved head a bit,
even though he scratches a bit while doing so - claws, many claws.
I came to realize that without my imagination, I'm a dead person. You
heard that right - imagination. I came to realize, that it's the only
thing that truely helped me throughout my existence. Some would call it
pathetic. I call it, "me", and I'm the one who has to deal with the
fact. This is me.
Last time I had a breakdown, not too long ago, actually, it happened
last Wednesday - I came home and tried to see Gideon as he is to me, a
breathing, living thing, not just a piece of decorative wood, and I
could not. I saw him as what he actually is, to the NORMAL world - just
that, a piece of carved, decorative wood.
I swear to you, I felt like someone had just died. My pet just died. I
felt like the twelve-year old, who experiences a death of a pet for the
first time in his life. It's something horrible, y'all have to admit.
And that was just how I felt - I cried like the same twelve year old boy
we've talked about.
My pet was dead. And there was nothing I could do. I went to sleep,
taking even more of the drug that allows me to sleep nowadays, but I
cried all the way into exhaustion that night. Gideon was dead. Dead.
Next morning, I got up and there he was, sleeping peacefully, curled
around himself. He woke and greeted me in his usual way, climbing me up
to the head, all the while saying, "good morning master," - "had a
pleasant night's sleep?" like nothing had happened. All I had to do was
to think about it, he grow up on size and gave me one of his famous
draconic hugs, that only he can deliver. Such warmth, such love.
Oh, sweet relief. To me was like he was brought back from the dead.
That fucking Wdnesday, the 12th day of this Novemeber, will remain a mistery. I just hope it never happens again.
Well, right now, he's alive and well, come here boy, light this for me. Thanks. Ow! Claws claws claws, up on my head.
And the best part is that he so happens to be however I want him to be.
If I so desire, he grows and we fly around, visiting places only I am
able to see.
"Guy's REALLY nuts," one reading this would think. Well. Like I said, I
am anything but normal. And yes, I always preferred to live inside the
world that only exists inside my head. The world, that I sometimes try
to write about, on these lines.
Without my imagination, I'd probably already be dead. I'd have killed
myself, many years ago. It's the only thing I got to cling onto,
sometimes. I'm not kidding. It's the thing that has always somehow
rescued me from the pits of hell I've been thrown when the depression
was on its peak. All those nights. Just before I slept, I "nightdreamed"
- about a life I'd like to be living. With a person I've never met, but
know so well, from my dreams.
The person I might never met in real life.
Inside my head, he does exist, in many forms and shapes, just like Gideon is, mutable.
Well...I got no such person in my life, but at least I got Gideon.
He is me,
and I'm him.
And that's the way it is.
