Silent resistance had begun nagging Jake, in proportion to the spawning. Everything about this seems wrong, he’d think to himself, reflecting on the trickles. But Destiny’d begun having her way in getting what she’d set out to claim, or so she’d thought. 

I feel like a jaguar at the zoo, Jake’d think. My soul is dancing elsewhere. I feel like an eagle that can’t fly! Yet he continued to shove it in deeper, taking de-light in masochism. It was as if he’d sliced both the side of his flesh, and Star’s flesh, with a serrated steak knife, and ran a thread through each of their bodies, to conjoin them. He’d continue pulling the strings tighter until…

 A) There was no more of him or Star left, because they’d grown together into a hermaphroditic monster made of two parts—that’d originally been predestined to grow in different directions—but’d been forced together. This’d be the crystallization of the growth between the two of them. Destiny would not be happy if this were to happen.

OR 

B) Their flesh had failed to take to one another, forcing the threads to rip out due to brutal resistance. This would be the easiest, quickest, and most sensible, but taking the leap would seem the most difficult. Destiny hadn’t had this in her original mind, but it’d be her most ideal method of regaining integrity.

OR 

C) Their flesh took to one another, but the thing inside—in rage, fury and hunger—would rip it at the conjoining, in order to be born into the physical world as a monster of ill-will. In this case, it’d cause great havoc, and Jake, as the father and carriage of his own misguidance, would have to teach it some manners in order to integrate it into society. This’d be a compromise on Destiny’s part, in granting Jake one last chance of growth before absolute dishonor.

The silent resistance that’d been triggered due to Jake’s poor decision making had caused him to begin pointing silent fingers at Star for his unhappiness, causing them to go on in silent toil, for months, at the expense of both of their happiness—with misery at the wheel in the clothing of a sheep.

And The Old Man didn’t miss a beat. Remember, you point the finger at one, your point the finger at two! he’d say as a crucial reminder. But Let me guess, you already know that? 

By this time, both Jake’s and Star’s gazing had transformed into a searching. They’d spend hours in stare, looking for something in which they could both relate beyond their fleshly arousals. 

“Babe, why are we with each other?” they’d ask one another. 

“Because we love each other, that’s why,” they’d say. But the lotus was never able to breach the surface because it’d lacked the driving force of emotional connection, leaving more mold to grow atop the rinds. 

My friend, you cannot force a square peg into a round hole! The Old Man’d say to him. But he wouldn’t listen. Jake’d been hell bent on getting the square peg into the round hole, BUT, the square peg had been divinely destined to maintain its structural integrity

Compromise to a point, and everyone gets splintered! The Old Man’d said.

But the flesh had already begun taking hold.

Destiny, while not lazy, does not like de-tours and she did not like what she’d seen when she looked at the energetic-data graph of the thing that’d begun budding. She didn’t like it one bit. So, she took an extra measure in trying to reclaim what was hers. 

The messages had to make their way down, by any means…

I hope you’ve enjoyed this small-portion of Chapter 45 of Losing My Mind in America. Stay tuned and follow for more updates in the future. I’ll be posting excerpts of “The Lower 48 Chapters” every day, for the next 48 days. Thanks again and feel free to share your thoughts, ideas and inspirations. PEACE IN.

-Tom

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