I Must Die. That’s all there is to it.

I am kneeling here…in my living room…preparing for my exit from mortality, by my own hand.

 No…hear me out. When you do, you will see that…yes….it is for the best.

Everything is clear to me now.

The sun’s rays… through the windows make the dust particles dance appear ghostly…haunted.

It is quiet now. I have come to grips with the responsibility of dispensing this justice upon myself that I have pronounced…nay…that I have heaped upon other transgressors throughout my life.

I am not a hypocrite. I must be true to the laws of nature and man. Laws I believe in.

 My rules…my guidelines. Social Mores’ for God’s sake!

I see the instruments of justice before me. My release….

The ceremonial jagged piece of glass, the tack hammer, the boiling vat of oil and the fire ants are all here with me…in the dancing dusty light.

 (I’m embarrassed and pained to admit) I violated my Pet Peeve rule # 6. I put the milk jug back into the fridge with ¼” of liquid splendor…still in the bottom.

I know…

I was obviously sleep-walking when it happened. I must have been…I never would have transgressed at such an extent…against the laws of etiquette, in an awakened state.

There are no excuses.

A stolid sense of dequorum and years of self-imposed guidelines have attuned me against any possibility of violating these sacred mantra’s. The Pet Peeves…

My sentences of death and other horrific tortures I have sentenced upon others and those I have witnessed or suspected in violations of Pet Peeves # 1-20 have come back to judge me. After 48 years “on the bench of my jurisdiction” I too must hold myself to these standards.

 I must maintain the law. Without law…we are only animals.

I kneel here…looking at the aforementioned instruments of self-imposed justice…with a sense of…no…a sense of appreciation.

They will release me from this shame…they will cleanse my soul from guilt…through the agony of keeping my own rules, I reach nirvana.

I will become…an ancestor.

First…I will beat myself senseless with the tack hammer.

Second…I will lie amongst the fire-ants until I am no longer recognizable as a human

Third…I will stumble…crawl…weeping into the vat of boiling oil…grateful that it’s punishing anguish is purging the sin of this spiteful transgressor.

Fourth…Boiled…half-eaten…beaten senseless by a tack hammer, I come to my final release…

Ritual Seppuku with a jagged piece of glass.

The only way to enlightenment.

Equal payment for my violation…account squared.

I look to my instruments of destruction to transport me to the nether-regions of this awake place…

I will not be a hypocrite…I will enforce my own rules…the privilege is glorious.

I have not wavered. I have shown no fear. I am the master of my soul.

I’m just really glad that I had re-filled the ice trays, washed all the dishes in the sink, and not stolen the batteries from the TV remote.

The punishments there…I can’t even imagine.

About treyzguy

I am so full of self-confidence and crap that I would worship myself against my own will.... Under penalty of death.

16 comments on “Consequences

  1. You’re showing a great range of writing topics today. For some reason I think of Judge Dredd when I read this. Not the terrible Stallone version.

  2. OMG. Had me going. Couldn’t figure where this was going at first. Laughed at the end till I almost…never mind.

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