Confessions Of A Dangerous Mind

Ryan smirked as he watched Vlad Dracula stab Jesus’s effigy in the heart and drink up the blood flowing through his bosom,in the cult classic Bram Stoker’s Dracula. They say there is no black and no white, just shades of gray. No black?? They say? Since when has he cared about what they say? Who is this they? There is and will be black. The same way that there is and will be Ryan McCarthy. Ryan  is young, successful, rich. A criminal lawyer, he studied law not to be a savior but to toe the line at every possible instance and make a mockery of the judiciary. Friends he has none, not a soul. They are not worth it are they? He gets girls, damn he gets girls but he is not dying for attention. He doesn’t need it. Because he is too big for this petty shameless transient  mudslinging  voyeuristic society. But voyeur he is. 26 years he has been in the covers searching for the one.

The one, the yin for his yang. They say all potent forces come in pairs. Each to fight the other. They say again? Ryan laughed out. His lifes dream, objective, hope, ambition.. all zeroed down on finding the one. He’s checked everywhere, clubs, offices, pubs, ghettos. Turned down each time. Did it take such a toll on God to create him that he din’t have it in him to do something remotely similar again?  and why is Ryan doing this? simple isn’t it? He wants to show his worth. That he is bigger than anything else. Its not ego, not high self esteem. Its just the truth isn’t it? If they say you’re good, you want to pin down the better and show them that you’re the best. THEY? Haha..

Ryan has it all. Money, success, fame, bungalows, shiny black Ferrari. He wants recognition. Vindication. That he is the best. The greatest to have ever graced the humankind. A mistake by the almighty. God should have known that the world is not ready for Ryan. Ryan was born this way. He has always known himself and the world and what a mismatch he is. Since then he started his covert little search that spanned across two decades but he hasn’t got all life right? He wants to die young, look handsome in his coffin. His match can go fishing for piranha or hope to videotape the loch ness monster. Not his problem if The One does not realize that he is The One. Frustration gets on to Ryan. He wants to scream out loud to God or whoever sits up there and claims to have created humankind. God. Who is this God? If Ryan is the  most potent ever, who is bigger than him? Is it possible to be any better? He is the best isn’t  he? Why can’t he play God? What does God do anyways? Give life and take life? That’s it? The poster over Ryan’s bed says- Almighty  was afraid. Had he been in combat, even he would bleed..

Giving life he has no interest in. He wondered how it felt to take life. The feeling of being the one standing with his boots on somebody’s chest as he begged for his life exhilarated him. That is how you play God. That is how Ryan vindicates himself. Kill his Yin. But where the hell is this match of his? 26 years and no response. Frustrates Ryan. He gives this guy one night, a bottle of Jack Daniels and ten cigars. T he moment his sophisticated taste in indulgement ends, he would execute his plan B. Minutes rolled on to hours as Ryan sipped on to his scotch and waited for a call, a mail, somebody at his door, some divine intervention…

5.30 in the morning.. The first rays of sunshine kissed the glass windows of his penthouse and cleared the view of his dark apartment. On the couch lay the bloody lifeless body of a handsome youth in a crisp suit. A licensed desert eagle on one hand and a bore on his skull. Next to him was an empty bottle of Jack D and ten cigar butts. The neatly folded sheet lying on the table said- I waited for God to turn up, he didn’t. So I did what Vlad had done. Shot the all powerful on his head.

They say there is no Black and no White.. only shades of Grey.. No Black??? They should think again..They??? Somebody would have screamed with laughter..

P.S.  Title adapted from the 2002 cult classic by the same name directed by George Clooney..Check it out if you already haven't.

Starting off...

Her monochrome clicks paint a strange picture. Morbid would be the word maybe. Its much like blood drained out of an old injury but the scars remaining in plain sight. All bare bones in exhibition. Much like his city..A careless congestion of self imposing materialism. He sees it all. A silent observer. He goes back to his M to pour it all over.. puke in her ears.
He sees how her clicks bring out his inner self..the blurry carriage ride..or the maze of lights mazing in its doped out trips..too mazed to realize when it started mazing. Its strange the way she reaches out without even trying to reach out. He knows not if she does it willfully or if it just sweats out of her without a damn notice.
Frankly, it doesnt really matter. There comes a point of time in each person's life when knowingly or unknowingly she does something she had never planned yet when it pans out, it all seems planned.. she doesnt know what THE PLAN is. He doesnt remember having elaborately discussed it with her. But there is a plan, there always was..Chalking out destinies of millions. Only too big in magnitude to ever get noticed..
Much like the one part of it that brought him this close to M.

P.S.- I'd thought the first post should be about me.Who I am and all that boredom..Frankly I din't remember..Next time maybe..cheers