There was a vaccuous sensation about him. He could feel a strange sensation on either side of his head that felt like some experiment had been performed on him while he slept. Like an electrical mind control device had been plugged in directly into his head and sent dark and dreary volts into him. He felt like he needed to vomit up his own brain.
He shivered from the breeze through the open window and gaped up at the plastic bag wrapped over the smoke alarm. Another cruel day for Janax. An evil Suzie Quatro number had been playing in his head since he woke up and he thought it would lead to damnation the more it was played over and over.
He tried some GTA IV to distract himself. His favourite song 'Girls Girls Girls' by Sailor was kept on perpetual loop on the sound system. Usually he'd be laughing his head off at Grand Theft but not today. The oppressive thoughts were too mighty. He watched as Niko swam out to sea to escape police attention. Fucked if he knew where the pay 'n' spray was...
He paused the game and allowed the silence to take over. Nothing. He could feel time just simply tick on. Incessant.
Sailor came on again. He loved Sailor. It was his sort of band. Only they provided any refuge to him ever. A congregation of sounds and notes from 30-odd years ago comforted him but the human populous about him refused.
Where were the girls? Where were these supposed women with their greater sensitivity and compassion. It was bullshit. It always had been. Never mind equal rights, that was fair enough. Give 'em all they want and fuck the patriarchy. But to claim they cared and had feeling, when the fucking cunts clearly didn't. Well that was the biggest crock of bollocks yet.
If women declared that they were heartless bitches then that was fine. He would believe that and get on with it but to acclaim sensitivity as their saving grace, well, that made his blood boil. To claim otherwise made him a misogynist apparently. He was, anyway, but this was essential truth being dealt with here so it didn't matter what he felt.
The silence...the silence...nothing. He was here and nobody cared. He sat back. There was a certain perverse satisfaction in it. The human race showing it's true colours. He was allowed a light grin.
He wrote on facebook. "All women are cold, uncaring bitches."
A few minutes later some girl wrote under the comment.
"Yes were are. You've found us out. Now fuck off."
There was a victory of sorts. Truth was always a victory for Janax. He unpaused the game and played the virtual recreation of human achievement. When aliens wanted to know about life on Earth they would find GTA. The best document you could hope for. This was everything while Bach was just one guy who wrote beauty. It didn't represent the whole spectrum like this. Sorry Johann.
Sailor returned to the beginning. Nice, thought Junax. For a few seconds the darkness in his head was quite forgot and that was the greatest kindness you could hope for in the world.