March Playlist

Nine Inch Nails - Pretty Hate Machine

Zålomon Grass - Space Opera

Tindersticks - Stars at Noon (Original Soundtrack)

Mogwai - Black Bird Soundtrack

Greta Aagre & Erik Honoré - Tuesday Gods 

29

 

Letter From The End Of The World

 

"So what happened? Nobody knows. We got swept away by the narrative. Chaos and self destruction are essential ingredients of the human psyche. Humanity is a soap opera, that nobody likes anymore, but is a bit tricky to cancel it. The snake is eating its tail and it's almost done. The end is nigh. But this time it's for real, no post credits scene, no sequels. This thing is no longer franchisable.

You can’t run from the things in your life that should have happened. They catch up and get get their cut from your happiness, sanity and health. The future is not was it used to be. I just want to sleep, a coma with a twist of amnesia would be nice. Sometimes, the world isn't just a worst case scenario, it's the final boss of worst case scenarios. And it doesn't matter, how fast you move, you are always still. Can't escape from anything.

I'm not very good living in the real world. That's why I write. The worst thing is undisclosed desires. All the things I didn't tell you, I didn't do with you. A half life, a thousand dreams on pause. Like a prisoner getting one day out in the sun, after days οf solitary confinement. Prison after that seems  much more bleak. You were always the missing piece of the puzzle, the one that gave meaning, the stroke that trasnformed even the most mundane into a little masterpiece.

Once in a while, hell doesn't always look like hell. On a good day, it looked like a Sunday morning with you. Lying on the bed, exhausted, ecstatic and happy, like cats in the sun. I miss the perfume of your voice, that gave life to words. They breathed for the first time in your lips. All this time that we're apart, is a burden, a poison without a cure. I wanted to share everything with you. You are the only person I want beside me, when the end of the world comes..."

The nurse smirked and put the letter in the drawer.

"Another letter for the end of the world?"

"Yeap."

"At least he isn't dangerous."

"I feel sorry for him. He seems like a nice guy."

"They all seem nice, when they take their pills."

"I don't know man, the night shift is getting weirder and weirder."

"What time is it?"

"I don't know, why?

"Isn't it a bit early for sunrise?"

"What are you talking about?

"Look outside."

The nurse stood up and opened the window. The light turned night to day.

"What the fuck is that?"

The comet was the last thing they saw.

Στην άκρη της άκρης του κόσμου VIII

 

Περνάς δίπλα από τον καθρέφτη. Κάποιες φορές, νιώθεις μια αόριστη απειλή, ένα ανεξήγητο ρίγος. Φοβάσαι να γυρίσεις και να κοιτάξεις μέσα στο γυαλί. Υπήρχε κάτι άλλο, εκτός από την αντανάκλαση σου; Δεν μπορείς να το ξεχάσεις. Περπατάς στο δρόμο, αποφεύγεις τις αντανακλάσεις στις βιτρίνες. Κάτι έχει κολλήσει στην άκρη του ματιού σου. Δεν μπορείς να το δεις, όμως το αισθάνεσαι, είναι εκεί. Ροκανίζει τη λογική σου αργά. Πέφτεις να κοιμηθείς, ξυπνάς μέσα στο όνειρο. Ένα όνειρο που δεν είναι δικό σου. Λαθρεπιβάτης στο υποσυνείδητου κάποιου άλλου. Όλα είναι ασπρόμαυρα. Δεν μπορείς να μιλήσεις, ούτε να τρέξεις.

Κάθε πόρτα οδηγεί σε μια άλλη. Κάθε παράθυρο σ'ένα άλλο δωμάτιο. Ο διάδρομος μεγαλώνει συνεχώς. Ή μήπως όχι; Βρίσκεσαι ανάμεσα σε δύο καθρέφτες, οι αντανακλάσεις προεκτείνονται στο άπειρο. Το είδωλο σου λιώνει παραμορφωμένο. Χάνεις κάθε αίσθηση προσανατολισμού, ζαλίζεσαι. Σαν να βρίσκεσαι μέσα σε μια τεράτια σβούρα που δεν σταματά ποτέ. Πέφτεις ασταμάτητα. Στο σκοτάδι, στο διάστημα, μέσα από σύννεφα, κύματα, κόλλες χαρτί, οθόνες και ιστούς αράχνης. Ανοίγεις τα μάτια, βρίσκεσαι ανάμεσα σε τεράστια τραπουλόχαρτα. Ή μήπως εσύ συρρικνώθηκες;

Γιγάντια χέρια σε κυνηγάνε, σκουντουφλάς πάνω στα τραπουλόχαρτα. Σε πιάνουν. Τρέμεις, μήπως σε λιώσουν. Σε βάζουν σ'ενα χρυσό κλουβί. Πλησιάζεις τα κάγκελα, δε τα φτάνεις ποτέ. Όσο προχωράς κοντά τους εκείνα απομακρύνονται. Κάθεσαι, κλείνεις τα μάτια. Το παγωμένο μέταλλο σε αγγίζει. Ξυπνάς, το κλουβί έχει σχεδόν πάρει το σχήμα του κορμιού σου. Το κλουβί παίζει μαζί σου. Όσο πλησιάζεις τα τειχώματα, γίνεται απέραντο. Όταν κλείνεις τα μάτια, σε αγκαλιάζει, ξυπνάς πριν σε συνθλίψει. Κοιμάσαι με το ένα μάτι ανοιχτό. Τρέχεις και δε φτάνεις ποτέ στην πόρτα του.

Καταρρέεις από εξάντληση. Όλες αυτές οι σκέψεις, οι φόβοι, έχουν γεμίσει μαύρες τρύπες μέσα σου, που καταπίνουν τα πάντα, νιώθεις πως αδειάζεις, χύνεσαι μέσα στον εαυτό σου. Σφίγγεις τα βλέφαρα, χάνεσαι σαν νερό στην μπανιέρα. Πέφτεις ξανά, αλλά η πτώση είναι σαν χάδι, το σκοτάδι αφήνει τρυφερά φιλιά παντού στο σώμα σου. Ένας άντρας ξυπνάει σ’ένα δωμάτιο ξενοδοχείου σε μια κόκκινη πόλη. Ένας άλλος σε μια ταράτσα στο Λουτράκι. Μια γυναίκα ξυπνάει σ’ένα διαμέρισμα στην Αθήνα. Είδαν το ίδιο όνειρο.

Στην άκρη της άκρης του κόσμου VII

 

Πόσες μέρες κοιμάμαι; Και τι παράξενα όνειρα ήταν αυτά; Μια κόκκινη πόλη, με σκυλιά που έπαιζαν πόκερ; Και ποια ήταν αυτή που ζωγράφιζε συνέχεια; Πρέπει να ήπιαμε όλες τις μπόμπες της Πελοποννήσου. Έρπω μέχρι το μπάνιο. Το πρόσωπο μου μοιάζει με πεδίο πυρηνικών δοκιμών. Ο Νικόλας πουθενά, μάλλον αποχώρησε για Αθήνα με τις groupies του. O δαίμονας πίνει καφέ στην ταράτσα. Με το που με βλέπει, σηκώνεται και με αγκαλιάζει. Ακολουθεί ένα παραλήρημα συγκίνησης και ευχαριστιών, σαν κακός λόγος στα Όσκαρ.

“Δεν ξέρω πως τα κατάφερες, όμως σ’ευχαριστώ! Ίσως να μην ήταν τυχαία η συνάντηση μας, ίσως τίποτα να μη συμβαίνει χωρίς κάποιο λόγο”

“Ας αφήσουμε τους κοελισμούς για λίγο στην άκρη. Καλά ήταν, όμως δεν έχουμε καταφέρει τίποτα. Μην ξεχνάς πως αυτό ήταν απλά μια δοκιμασία. Από εδώ και πέρα τι γίνεται”

“Με πήρε τηλέφωνο πριν λίγο ο μάγος, μας περιμένει στην καφετέρια”

“Καλά, αφού είναι παντοδύναμη εξωδιαστατική οντότητα, γιατί σε πήρε τηλέφωνο; Γιατί δεν επικοινώνησε με τηλεπάθεια ή να τηλεμεταφερθεί εδώ;”

“Μου είπε πως ήταν σίγουρος πως θα σκεφτείς κάτι τέτοιο, και η απάντηση του ήταν ότι δεν του αρέσουν τα κινηματογραφικά κλισέ, που θα τον υποβίβαζαν σε καρικατούρα”

“Οι δραματουργικές ενστάσεις μας μάραναν σε αυτή την ιστορία. Τεσπα, μην ξεχάσεις τα κύπελλα”.

Μισή ώρα μετά, πίνουμε καφέ δίπλα στη θάλασσα. Ο μάγος χαϊδεύει τα κύπελλα σαν να είναι τα νεογέννητα παιδιά του.

“Διαψεύσατε τις προβλέψεις και τα καταφέρατε. Είσαστε έτοιμοι για τη δύσκολη αποστολή σας”

“Ευχαριστούμε master Yoda, αλλά δεν έχει ανταμοιβή;”

“Τι ανταμοιβή;”

“Για το μικρό άθλο που μας έβαλες. Δεν ήταν στο πρόγραμμα να πετάξουμε σχεδόν ένα χρόνο από τη ζωή μας, για να ικανοποιήσουμε τα εφηβικά σου απωθημένα”.

Ο δαίμονας με κλωτσάει κάτω από το τραπέζι, σαν ζηλιάρα σύζυγος. Ο μάγος χαμογελάει και πίνει μια γουλιά από τον εσπρέσο του.

“Όλο αυτό το ταξίδι και η χαρά της νίκης ήταν η ανταμοιβή. Δεν περάσετε κι άσχημα”

“Ναι δε λέω, αλλά δεν είχα ποτέ όνειρο, να πετάξω τόσους μήνες για το ερασιτεχνικό ποδόσφαιρο της Κορίνθου”

“Λες και είχες τίποτα καλύτερο να κάνεις. Κάθε μέρα βλέπεις τρεις ταινίες και γράφεις σενάρια που δε θα γυριστούν ποτε. Εξάλλου, δεν πέρασες άσχημα με τη λουλουδού”.

Ο μάγος μου κλείνει το μάτι.

“Σας παρακαλώ, δε σας επιτρέπω. Δε θα γίνει η προσωπική μου ζωή αντικείμενο χλεύης”

“Η ποια;”

“Έστω, οι ξεπέτες μου. Τι γίνεται τώρα; Θα ξεκινήσουμε τη σωτηρία της ψυχής του δαίμονα;”

“Σύντομα. Πρώτα θα πάτε για ψυχανάλυση”.

Κοιταζόμασταν με το δαίμονα αποσβολωμένοι.

“Μην ανησυχείς, δε θα πάρει χρόνο. Μια συνεδρία και είστε έτοιμοι”

“Ναι, αλλά γιατί;”

“Το ξέρω πως ακούγεται περίεργο, αλλά υπάρχει γραφειοκρατεία ακόμη και στο υπερφυσικό”

“Καλά, αφού είσαι παντοδύναμη εξωδιαστατική οντότητα, μπορείς απλά να διαβάσεις το μυαλό μας”

“Ναι ναι, έχεις δίκιο, δυστυχώς τα τελευταία χρόνια, έχουν γίνει αυστηρά τα πράγματα, υπάρχει πρωτόκολλο GDPR, κτλ. Σας υπόσχομαι πως δε θα αργήσουμε. Αύριο το πρωί έχετε ραντεβού με τον ψυχαναλυτή”.

Μας έδωσε μια κάρτα, πλήρωσε και έφυγε. Μάλλον παίρνει μίζα, δεν εξηγείται αλλιώς. Γυρίσαμε απορημένοι στο σπίτι. Ο δαίμονας δεν μπορούσε να κοιμηθεί. Είχαν περάσει πολλές νύχτες, που τον άκουγα να κλαίει. Προσπαθούσα να φαίνομαι ψύχραιμος. Έφτιαξα δύο ποτά και πιάσαμε την κουβέντα. Άλλαζα συνεχώς θέμα, όμως η συζήτηση επέστρεφε πάντα στην αυριανή μέρα. Επιστράτευσα όσο χιούμορ μου έχει απομείνει, για να μετριάσω της αγωνία του δαίμονα και τη δική μου πλήξη.

“Γιατί μας παιδεύει έτσι; Τι θέλει;”

“Προφανώς μας κάνει πλάκα. Μην το παίρνεις στα σοβαρά. Αφού πήρε τα κύπελλα, θα μας βοηθήσει”

“Δεν ξέρω, με τρομάζει η ψυχανάλυση”

“Ήσουν τόσα χρόνια ένα τέρας από λάβα, έχεις κολατσίσει τόσους ανθρώπους, και σε τρομάζει η ψυχανάλυση; Πόση ειρωνεία ν’αντέξω πχια…”

“Ήταν απλά μια δουλειά, θέλω να με πιστέψεις, δεν ήταν ποτέ προσωπικό”

“Ναι, και οι ναζί τα ίδια έλεγαν..”

“Τέλος πάντων, σε πειράζει να πας πρώτος;”

“Χαλάω εγώ χατίρια;”.

Μείναμε σιωπηλοί για ώρες. Η νύχτα ήταν γλυκιά. Το δροσερό αεράκι ταξίδευε το μυαλό σε χαρούμενες αναμνήσεις, ενώ σκόρπιζε υποσχέσεις στα ρίγη που προκαλούσε. Κοίταξα τον δαίμονα, παλινδρομούσε ανάμεσα στη λιποθυμία και το λυγμό.

“Μην πίνεις άλλο, πάμε για ύπνο. Αφού επιζήσαμε στα γήπεδα του ερασιτεχνικού ποδοσφαίρου, μπορούμε να κάνουμε τα πάντα”

“Η γιαγιά μου έλεγε, Θεέ μου δώσε μου τη δύναμη να αλλάξω αυτά που μπορώ, την υπομονή να αντέξω αυτά που δεν μπορώ, και τη σοφία για να γνωρίζω την διαφορά μεταξύ τους”

“Τυχερός είσαι, εμένα μου έλεγε, δε σου είπα να μην φέρνεις τις πουτάνες στο σπίτι;”.

Φυσικά και δεν μπορούσα να κοιμηθώ. Αν η αυπνοία ήταν γυναίκα, θα ήμουν ο πιο ευτυχισμένος άνθρωπος στη Γη. Έβαλα μουσική στο κινητό και τεντώθηκα. Κατάφερα να κοιμηθώ δύο ώρες. Φτάσαμε στο γραφείο του ψυχαναλυτή. Η πόρτα ήταν μισάνοιχτη. Ο τύπος ενδυματολογικά ήταν κάτι ανάμεσα σε barista και life coach. Χάζευε στο κινητό του και χαζογελούσε. Χτήπησα την πόρτα, κι ας ήταν ανοιχτή.

“Να περάσει το επόμενο παρατράγουδο. Έλα αρχηγέ μου, για λέγε”

“Είστε σίγουρα ψυχαναλυτής;”

“Σας παρακαλώ, τρία πτυχία από την Γερμανία, μιλάμε για τον Γκουαρντιόλα της ψυχανάλυσης!”

“Δηλαδή είστε υπερεκτιμημένος, κοστίζετε  περισσότερο από όσο αξίζετε και δεν ανταποκρίνεστε στις προσδοκίες;”

“Μάλιστα, κόμπλεξ ανωτερώτητας. Καθίστε”.

Δεν ξεκινάμε καλά. Ανάβω τσιγάρο και προσπαθώ να ηρεμήσω. Το μέρος μυρίζει σαν οδοντιατρείο, λογικό, αφού κι εδώ εξαγωγές και απονευρώσεις γίνονται.

“Σας ακούω”

“Τι πρέπει να πω;”

“Είστε σκηνοθέτης, οπότε κάντε μια σύντομη αλλά περιεκτική περίληψη της ζωής σας”

“Αρχικά, πρέπει να πω, ότι δεν πιστεύω ιδιαίτερα στην ψυχολογία και στην ψυχανάλυση. Δεν τις απορρίπτω εντελώς, σίγουρα βοηθάνε σε σοβαρές περιπτώσεις. Όμως έχουν γίνει μάστιγα, και δεν πιστεύω πως θεραπεύουν τίποτα, εκτός από τα έσοδα των θεραπευτών. Ο καθένας πηγαίνει για ψύλλου πήδημα και κάνει θεραπεία, γιατί πολύ απλά δεν έχει φίλους, κάποιον να μιλήσει. Το πρόβλημα είναι δομικό, ο καπιταλισμός έχει συντρίψει τον άνθρωπο και αν δεν αλλάξει κάτι σύντομα και δραστικά, όλα θα γίνουν χειρότερα.

Αυτού του είδους οι θεραπείες, έχουν καταντήσει αστρολογία με επίκάλυψη επιστήμης, δε θεραπεύουν τίποτα, απλά σε προσαρμόζουν στις προδιαγραφές που θέλει το σύστημα, ώστε να είσαι λειτουργικό εξάρτημα. Βγάζει η Κούλα παρανυχίδα και κάνει είκοσι χρόνια ψυχανάλυση για να το ξεπεράσει. Δε μου αρέσουν οι γενικότητες, αλλά ένα μεγάλο μέρος των συναδέλφων σας, έχει μετατρέψει τον κλάδο σε ψευδοεπιστήμη. Όλα τα προβλήματα που υπάρχουν στη δήθεν πολιτισμένη δύση, δεν υπάρχουν στον υπόλοιπο κόσμο. Κάντε ψυχανάλυση σε μια φυλή στον Αμαζόνιο, δε θα έχει τίποτα από όσα πάσχει κάποιος στην Αθήνα ή το Βερολίνο. Μη μιλήσω τώρα για την διαπλοκή με τις φαρμακοβιομηχανίες, τόσα ντοκιμαντέρ υπάρχουν!”

“Μάλιστα, πολύ ενδιαφέρον. Πρέπει να είστε η ψυχή της παρέας, σίγουρα γίνεστε το επίκεντρο σε κάθε πάρτι”

“Δε μου αρέσουν τα πάρτι”

 “Δυσκολεύομαι να το πιστέψω. Οι αντιρρήσεις σας σημειώθηκαν, πείτε μου τώρα για σας”

“Οι γονείς μου χώρισαν όταν ήμουν οκτώ. Μεγάλωσα με τη μάνα μου”

“Αδέρφια;”

“Όχι. Η μάνα μου δούλευε πολλές ώρες και έμενα μόνος στο σπίτι από την Τρίτη δημοτικού. Δε με πείραζε, ίσα ίσα έμαθα ν’απολαμβάνω τη μοναξιά και την ησυχία. Επειδή είμαι μοναχοπαίδι, μάλλον είναι ο λόγος που είμαι λίγο κτητικός. Και όπως μου είπε ο Μάκης, γι’αυτό ψάχνω τη μάνα μου σε όλες τις γυναίκες, όπως οι περισσότεροι άντρες”.

Ο ψυχαναλυτής  γράφει ασταμάτητα στο tablet του. Δεν ξέρω αν κρατάει σημειώσεις ή αν καυλαντίζει με κάποια στα social.

“Είστε παντρεμένος;”

”Όχι”

“Έχετε παιδιά;”

«Απ’όσο ξέρω όχι»

“Σχέση;”

“Είμαι μόνος μου τα τελευταία δύο χρόνια”

“Ο λόγος;”

“Είναι περιπλόκο”

“Μάλιστα. Πως ήταν η τελευταία σας σχέση;”

“Κινηματογραφική. Η πιο συναρπαστική εμπειρία της ζωής μου”

“Και γιατί τελειώσε;”

“Γιατί όπως έχει πει ο Εμπειρίκος, οι μεγάλοι έρωτες έχουν παρελθόν, καμιά φορά παρόν, αλλά πότε μέλλον”

“Μάλιστα. Θέλετε να γίνεται λίγο πιο συγκεκριμένος;”

“Κοιτάξτε, δε θέλω να επεκταθώ επί του θέματος. Απλά θα το συνοψίσω λέγοντας, ότι δε γίνεται να παίζεις συνέχεια τα Μαύρα Φεγγάρια του Έρωτα. Ωραία είναι, αλλά χρειάζεται και λίγη ηρεμία”

“Μάλιστα. Που βλέπετε τον εαυτό σας σε πέντε χρόνια;”

“Στο σπίτι, να βλέπω τρεις ταινίες την ημέρα και να γράφω σενάρια που δε θα γυριστούν ποτέ”

“Σε είκοσι χρόνια;”

“Άστεγος, παρέα με το Μάκη, να ψάχνουμε για ανθεκτικά χαρτόκουτα, και να κοιμόμαστε σε βάρδιες, για να μη μας κλέψουν και βιάσουν άλλοι άστεγοι”

“Δεν είστε και πολύ αισίοδοξος”

“Δεν έχω και πολλούς λόγους για να είμαι”

“Μπορείτε να μου δώσετε ένα τσιγάρο;”.

Ήμουν σίγουρος  πως τύποι σαν αυτόν, θα έκαναν ηλεκτρονικό, κάποιο μοντέλο της Apple, με γεύση Mojito ή κάτι παρεμφερές χιπστερικό. Με κάθε εισπνοή, ο ψυχαναλυτής άρχισε ν’αλλάζει μορφή. Ο μάγος έσβησε το τσιγάρο, το γλοιώδες χαμόγελο του μ’εκνεύρισε περίσσοτερο από κάθε άλλη φορά.

“Δε το λες και το plot twist του αιώνα. Γιατί όμως;”

“Ήθελα να δω αν θα παραδεχόσουν την αλήθεια”

“Την αλήθεια για ποιο πράγμα;”

“Για τον εαυτό σου”

“Αφού την ξέρεις, γιατί μας παιδεύεις και καθυστερείς την πλοκή;”

“Ήταν μια δοκιμασία. Θέλει δύναμη, να παραδεχθείς ποιος είσαι, έστω ποιος νομίζεις πως είσαι”

“Να αφήσουμε τα υπαρξιακά στην άκρη; Μην το κάνουμε Μπέργκμαν. Θα σώσσουμε τελικά την ψυχή του βλαμμένου ή όχι;”

“Σύντομα. Οι δοκιμασίες τελειώσαν. Έχετε δύο μέρες ανάπαυσης και ξεκινάτε. Κάτι τελευταίο. Αφού είσαι τόσο απαισιόδοξος, απογοητευμένος και κυνικός, γιατί απόφασισες να τον βοηθήσεις;”

“Γιατί είχα άλλη επιλογή; Θα με έτρωγε”

“Μαλακίες. Από την στιγμή που σου ανοίχτηκε, είναι πιο ακίνδυνος κι από την ελληνική δικαιοσύνη απέναντι σε πολιτικό. Πες την αλήθεια, κατά βάθος δεν είσαι και τόσο κακός, υπάρχει κάπου μέσα σου η ελπίδα”.

Ανθυπομόρφασα και έψαξα παρηγορία στο επόμενο τσιγάρο.

“Μπορεί να υπάρχει ένα μικρό κομμάτι μέσα μου, που ακόμα ονειρεύεται και ελπίζει. Κατάλοιπο από τις πολλές ρομαντικές κομεντί που έχω δει. Είναι σαν κάτι μειοψηφίες στο Twitter, που επειδή κάνουν πιο πολύ φασαρία, ακούγονται περισσότερο. Δε σημαίνει κάτι αυτό. Οι άνθρωποι δεν έχουν φτιαχτεί για μακροχρόνιες σχέσεις. Δεν αντέχεις κάποιον για πολύ καιρό. Εδώ δεν αντέχω τον εαυτό μου, αν μπορούσα θα με χώριζα. Αφού δεν μπορώ να είμαι ευτυχισμένος, ας βοήθησω κάποιον άλλο να γίνει. Ο δαίμονας μου θυμίζει τη φάση που πέρασε ο Σπύρος. Τρομάξαμε να τον συνεφέρουμε με το Μάκη”

“Είχε αφήσει και αυτός γυναίκα και παιδί;”

“Όχι, είχε ερωτευτεί την Μαίρη, που έσερνε με το αιδοίο της όλο το Αιγάλεω. Αφού γλυτώσαμε τον Σπύρο απ’ αυτήν, τίποτα δεν είναι αδύνατο”.

O μάγος κάγχασε και κοίταξε την ώρα.

“Η συνεδρία τελειώσε. Πήγαινε σπίτι. Σε δύο μέρες θα σας ειδοποιήσω”

“Όχι άλλες δοκιμάσιες, εντάξει κύριε Μιγιάγκι;”

“Μην ανησυχείς. Ξεκουράσου, γιατί τα δύσκολα τώρα αρχίζουν. Πάντως, μην είσαι αρνητικός. Το μέλλον είναι πιο παράξενο από όσο πιστεύεις. Δεν ξέρεις που μπορείς να βρεθείς και τι να ζήσεις. Το αύριο είναι σαν συνταγή μαγειρικής, μερικές ένα λάθος συστατικό, μπορεί να αλλάξει τα πάντα, να κάνει το φαγητό καλύτερο”

“Ή να πάθεις δηλητηρίαση»

“Ακόμα και αυτό, μπορεί να σου αλλάξει τη ζωή με αναπάντεχο τρόπο. Μπορεί να βρεθείς στο Μεξικό, να πάθεις δυσπεψία και να γνωρίσεις στο νοσοκομείο τον έρωτα της ζωής σου”

“Ούτε στις μεξικάνικες σαπουνόπερες δε γίνονται αυτά”

“Άσε τη ζωή να σε εκπλήξει”

“Φεύγω, γιατί αρχίζεις και ακούγεσαι σαν influencer”.

Ο δαίμονας ανακουφίστηκε με τα νέα. Καταλήφθηκε από μια τουριστική υστερία και πήρε τους δρόμους, λες και το Λουτράκι είναι το Παρίσι. Η βροχή με γαληνεύει, όχι αρκετά για να κοιμηθώ. Η νοσταλγία κοχλάζει στις νευρικές απολήξεις. Κουράστηκα, να μπαίνουν νέες απογοητεύσεις από την πίσω πόρτα των ονείρων. Βαρέθηκα, να περιμένω συνεχώς κάτι. Όταν δεν περνάς καλά, το παρόν διαστέλλεται τόσο πολύ, που καταβροχθίζει παρόν και παρελθόν. Βουλιάζεις αργά στο βάλτο μιας παύσης.

Είναι αργά για κουλτουραίικους μονολόγους κακής ταινίας. Ποιος ξέρει, μπορεί να είμαι τυχερός και να πεθάνω τις επόμενες μέρες. Τουλάχιστον να προλάβω να βοηθήσω το δαίμονα. Τι αλτρουισμός με έπιασε; Δε γαμιέται… Ίσως η ζωή μπορεί ακόμη να με εκπλήξει.

Hustler Blues (Remastered)

 

Opening Credits Theme

I 

Hand Of The Night

"There ain't no devil, just God when he's drunk!"

The guy next to me was mumbling nonsense. He bought me a drink and started small talk.

"Is there's something you want to say to the world, mister slick?"

'"It's too early for the circus, but the right time for the bar."

"Amen to that brother." 

I was nervous. The high rollers were killing themselves in the back. I was waiting for my turn. My hands were sweaty and shaking, not a good sign. The brunette across the bar was staring at me all night. That red dress was dying to come off. And that smile... Like a halo, made everything around her enchanting, even her toad boyfriend. I tried not to pay attention, but she wouldn't let me.

Tom saved me from the distraction. He bummed a cigarette and ordered a beer.

"Are you ready?"

"I think."

"Not a good sign."

"Tell me about it."

"I was talking about the brunette."

"You've noticed?"

"Me and the rest of the bar. Stay away, that stuffed animal she's with is Jimmy's nephew."

"Jimmy as Jimmy Rinaldi?"

"That's the one."

"Not a good sign."

"Told you so"

"Well, it is what it is."

"Don't give me that "i am the fuckin' zen master and watch me float on air" bullshit. Your last girlfriend cost us 20 grand."

"And worthed every penny."

"Tell that to Jimmy."

"I'd rather not."

"Oh Lord... At least win."

"I'll try."

"Don't fuckin' try, this isn't an algebra test, this is our survival for the next 6 months!"

"You are making me nervous."

"Someone has to, we are talking about a lot of money."

"I'd rather be nervous with her."

"For fuck's sake man, win! And then kill yourself in any way you want. But win!"

"Don't push me!"

"I'll push you off the edge of the cliff if you don't win!"

I went to the bathroom. The mirror wasn't optimistic. Washed my face and prayed. Game on. Last man standing. It was too easy. So easy that i feel cheated. Tom was ecstatic. I gave him all the money. The toad left and the brunette was all mine.

"Is that your cousin?"

She laughed and took my lighter.

"Seems like a good guy. To be your cousin."

"And if he isn't?"

"A good guy?"

"My cousin."

"I am sure he has more important things to do, than be here with you. Study for an algebra test or something.'

'And what about you?"

"I'm not good at algebra."

"What are you good at?"

"Chemistry."

She smirked and bummed a cigarette. The way she was drinking was a performance. She took the ice cube, brushed it slowly between her breasts and put it on her lips.

"Define chemistry."

"If I could it wouldn't be chemistry."

"Doesn't red usually mean stop?"

"Not from where i am standing."

She was really good at this game. Knew when to fold and when to score. We ended up at her place. Last drink. Great view. The smell of her hair made me feel tranquil, almost blessed. Her kisses were hungry. Couldn't get enough of her, of her taste. This wasn't sex, but neither love. 

Woke up early, had a smoke on the balcony. I didn't want to leave. I could fall for her. I can't. I mustn't. Can't take another doomed romance. I am old, tired. But God, I miss the suspence, the danger, the hope.. That fuckin' hope... That promise of eternity with a date of expiry... Went home, made me a drink and tried not to think of her. I couldn't. Not a good sign. It is what it is. That's the fabric of the world. The hustlers don't work and the workers don't hustle. And I'm always gambling. On eveything. 

II

Bitch Called Hope

"Rise and shine princess, I got good news. The big game in Chicago is in 15 days."

"Goodmorning Tom"

"You sound exhasusted. You didn't..."

"I did.." The pause was the prelude of whining.

"Goddamnit Vic, I told you to keep your hands off her!"

"You didn't include other body parts."

"Jimmy is going to bury you."

"My corpse."

"I don't care if he makes a pinata with your head and an ashtray with your balls! I'm not losing my income because of a broad."

"Relax Tom."

"Don't try to bullshit me! This is bad. Get rid of her."

"Not gonna happen."

"Vic, this is serious."

"I know."

"I don't have time for this. Have fun for the next two weeks and dump her."

"Noted."

"Go fuck yourself Vic! I'm not going to die beacause you can't keep your pants on!"

"Noted too."

"Whatever...Just be in Chicago."

"See you there."

Tom will cool off. We have a date in an hour. I love the night. She gives everything and never asks for something. We are nocturnal animals, pretending to be daylight creatures. But only in the dark, you are your real self. Once the dawn bleeds the sky, insicts get sharper, senses come alive and desires takes control.

The last days have been something between paradise and a dream.  She makes me feel like a teenager again. Everything is new, everything is true. We made love in every place you can imagine. Long walks down the beach, conversations till the morning. She's  such a child, longing to devour the beauty of the world.  I'm trying to be calm, focused. But I can't. She sweeps me off my feet. She's a tornado of passion, lust, tenderness and wits.

I'm always pessimistic, but i need this to last, even if it's the last time. I'm shuffling the cards. Queen of clubs. Is this my winning card? I don't care. I don't want to win. Just the game to last a little bit longer. It's funny how one person can make everything different, even the sense of time. Happiness is the pause button of time. The whole city seems hers, her scent in it's vains, her lipstick behind every color, her sighs the electricity keeping alive everything.

I'm feeling hope. Not a good sign. Hope is cruel. I don't need another shipwrecked dream. But I 'm tired of the things I need. It's been a long time, since I wanted something. Even the verb scares me. A great poker player once told me that you never count your winnings because that’s when you start to lose. Let's enjoy the ride of this little winning streak. I know it'll end. Everything does.

III

Anna Kournikova

"I have to do something, important. I'll be out of town for a couple of days. Please, don't ask, I'll tell you everything when I get back. I'll miss you."

One of us was bluffing. Maybe both. I have a bad feeling about this. Try not to overthink it. Next stop Chicago.

I have great memories here. My first wins, my first fights, a lot of booze, a lot of laughs. The city looks different. I'm not anxious, not a good sign. Couldn't sleep. I need the action.

My opponent looks like a hipster rat. Even if he picked his clothes randomly, the result will be less excruciating. 

"So, you are the infamous Mr. Tassoti"

"In the flesh."

"I've never lost a game"

"There's a first time for everything."

"Shall we?"

He was slow. Trying to lure me in a false sense of security. He was trying to wear me down, by making me think he was worst than me. I know this game, I don't like it. People who play poker like chess bore me to death.

He started to get impatient. 

"Let's see what you got."

"Flush."

"That's a winning hand."

The moment his fingers touched the chips, I threw my cards on the table.

"In another game perhaps. Full house."

His look was priceless. I could take a picture and laugh at it every time I felt depressed.

"You cheated! You fuckin' loser, you cheated!"

"I'm getting all misty here."

The heavies escorted him out.

"If i was you I'll be really afraid right now, you are not getting away with this!"

"If you were me, you'd be handsome and sharp dressed."

Next game in 30 minutes. I need a smoke. 

Bad feelings always come true. My next opponent was her. I was shocked.

"What's the matter stud, are you scared that a little girl can beat you?"

I tried to remain calm. She was good. I tried to buy some time. Why is she here? Why she's playing against me? She looked different, with an arrogant smile, being a tease for every male in the room. She looked cheap. She knew that would piss me off, get me off balance.

I had to do something. This wasn't her. There's something going on, something really bad.

"All in!"

She didn't expect that. Her armour cracked. She froze. That was the right time.

"Can we take a break?"

The croupier seemed baffled.

"It's not against the rules."

"I suppose not. Ok, let's take a 10 minute break.

I waited for her to go to the balcony. Run up to her and grabbed her.

"What are you doing here? What is all this?"

She started crying. I hugged her.

"I'm sorry, I should'nt have come. I'm in love with you, but we can be together!"

"Why? Because of that fuckin' nephew of Rinaldi?"

"No, not exactly."

"Than tell me!"

"I can't! Please, if you have feelings for me, don't look me up. I have to go, the game is yours."

She kissed me and run away. I was so devastated that I almost forgot to collect my winnings. I walked 20 miles that night. Called her a thousand times. What is happening? Why she was so scared? How bad is this? 

Tom was raving.

"Two birds with one stone. Well done Mr. Majestyk, you've outdone yourself this time. What's the split, the usual?"

"You can have it all."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"You won a fuck load of money and all I hear is a a victorian funeral ridge? You were really lucky man, she was trouble."

"Do you need a visual aid Tom? I don't care about the money."

"You are a terminal case, you know that?"

"Whatever, see you when I get back."

Went back to the hotel. Drunk myself to sleep. It can't end. Not like this, not so fast. I'll get to the bottom of that, after i get to the bottom of this bottle. I'll find you. I'll save you. There are worse things than murder. You can kill someone an inch at a time. Starting with his heart.

IV

Infinity on the Side

Back to L.A. Went straight to Rinaldi's house. He knew why I was here. But for some reason, he avoided the subject.

"Jimmy, let's cut to the chase."

"Vic, drop her. You had a lot of women. You can have anyone. You've seen the kid, that broad will be the highlight of his existence."

"I'm in love with her."

"You are in love every second week."

"I'm serious."

'So am I. Listen, what you want? Money? Credit? I'll send you the three rookies from the Candy Cat. On the house, for a week. Stuff that teenage dreams are made of. They'll suck you like vacuums on steroids."

"I don't care Jimmy."

"Two weeks on the house."

"Don't care."

Jimmy lit a cigarette. Threw a couple of bundles on the table.

"You know me better. When it comes to women, money doesn't mean anything to me."

"I know you, better than you know yourself. Vic, I like you, you are a good player, you have style, you know when to quit. And this is one of those times. Quit while you are winning."

"Haven't won yet."

"Then quit before you start losing. Losing big. Stay away, 'cause things will get nasty."

"What's the angle? She owes you money?"

"Νone of your business!"

"How much?"

"Why, are you going to buy her debt?"

"How much?"

Jimmy laughed and put out the cigarette. Hard and slow.

"There's nothing you can do about her. My offer still stands."

'Mine too. You know where to find me."

"If you don't change your mind, change your address."

"Noted."

What in the name of God he has on you? How much do you owe? What the fuck do you owe? I searched everywhere. You've changed your number. I need another perpective, to this fucked up narrative. Went to Ray. Told him everything. He was confused. Not a good sign.

"Blackmail. He has something on her. You have to find out what."

"How?"

"Don't know yet. Until we can figure it out, stay low."

"But I can't, I'm worried sick!"

"You have to play it smarter. Let me make a couple of phone calls. There's an ex cop, he owes me a couple of favours."

"Ok, and then?"

"She must tell you the truth."

Those three days were the longest of my life. Finally, the phone rung.

"She's in a motel near the desert. The Safari Motor Inn. Proceed with caution."

Rented a car and drove like a maniac. When she saw me, I almost fainted.

That fisrt kiss melted everything, every shadow of doubt.

We made love live possesed animals, like gods of the sun.

"How did you find me?"

"Does it matter?"

"No."

She lied on my chest. The scent of her hair made feel so safe.

"What does Rinaldi have on you?" She looked at me scared.

"I can't tell you. Because you'll be in danger, and I don't want that."

"If you don't tell me, I can't help you."

"You can't."

I grabbed her and pulled her closer to me.

"Listen to me, I'm terminally in love with you, and I don't care about anything. Those last days without you were like a coma, I don't care if I don't play poker again. You made me feel..."

"What?"

"Hope again."

"And that's a bad thing?"

"It depends. If we can't be together, than yes. Hope is not healthy for my age. Tell me the truth Emma."

"I can't."

I got up. I was starting to get angry.

"Is there someone else?"

"No you silly man! I've never wanted anything or anyone more than you! I was yours since the first night, since your first smile. You stupid middle-aged man!"

She brushed her hands on my face.

"You fuckin' boomer, can't you see? When you are around, you make everything seem so easy. I've never felt so free in my life. Only with you."

"Than tell me."

"You can't help me."

She started crying.

"Emma, if you won't tell me, I'll leave. And  I won't come back."

"If you love me, that's the right thing to do."

"You call this love?"

"Yes! I don't want anything bad to happen to you."

"Something bad is already happening."

"It's the lesser evil."

Got dressed and almost out of the room when she stopped me.

"Please, don't go! Stay for a couple days!"

"And then what? We part our separate ways?"

"No..We'll figure something out. Please, come back to bed."

"I don't want long goodbyes. Either you tell me  the truth or I'm gone."

"Please Vic, don't! I'm doing this to protect you. If anything happens to you..."

"Emma, I know these people better than you, tell me what the fuck is happening and I'll help you, help us both."

She fell on her knees weeping.

"Go. You don't understand. Just go!"

Those seconds were unbearable. I didn't know what to do. Time tranformed in gravity, a gravity that pulled everything down and crushed it, every thought, every breath. I drove untill I run out of gas. Smoked the last cigarette. The first rays of the sun were chocking me. Why? I should have listened to Tom. 

I've been crying for 50 miles. How tangled can this knot get? I would do anything for you. Just tell me the truth and I will kiss the blood off your hands.

V

Decked Out

Five goons outside my house.

"Are you Tassotti?"

"Who's asking?"

The first punch almost hit me. It's been long since a good fight. I need a good adrenaline orgasm. First card, a direct on the neck. Second card, I throw the inflicted on the other two. Third card, a kick in the balls. Fourth, I break his nose. Five, I get hit by a baseball bat. Last call. A headbutt on that ugly fuck. Three down. Fold, the baseball bat wins.

Woke up in a limo. The guy in front of me was smoking a cigar. His white suit was almost glowing in the dark. Long hair, a lot of bling.

"How's your head?"

"Had better days."He smirked.

"Have a drink."

He offered me champange.

"Where am I?"

"You are safe. For now."

"Who are you?"

"A friend."

"I don't know you."

"You just don't remember. But it's ok."

"What do you want?"

"To help."

"In return for what?"

His smile was reassuring and frightening simultaneously.

"All in good time. I can help you save the girl."

"How bad is it?"

"Worst than you think."

My stomach felt like a clenched fist.

"Tell me."

"Not so fast. You have to do something for me first."

"What?"

"Win a poker game."

"And if I refuse?"

"You can walk away anytime you want. But I suggest that you don't. I'm the only one who can help you. And believe me, Rinaldi is the least of your problems."

How can I trust this clown? But he's right. I'll give it a try.

"Ok. Do you want all the money?"

"Who said anything about money?"

"Than what do you want?"

"Just win."

"Ok. When and where?"

"Now. Good luck."

He opened the door and gave me a bundle of money. I was in Beverly Hills. The mansion was filled with guards.

"Welcome Mr. Tassotti, we were expecting you."

Five players. Never seen them before, not a good sign. 

This was the toughest game I've ever played. I gave eveything I had just to keep up with these guys. We were playing for two days straight. It comes down to me and the bearded bulldog. He's killing me. I'm left with almost nothing. 

"All in."

I need a miracle. A gambler never counts on luck. But there are exceptions.

I turn the card. Throw it on the table. I've won.

I'm getting dizzy, need some air. I faint before I reach the garden.

Woke up in the limo again. The whiteclad counts my winnings.

"Well done Mr. Tassotti." He hands me the money.

"Will you tell me  now? Where's Emma? Is she ok?"

"She's fine."

"How bad is it?"

"You'll find out soon"

"Look, I've done what you asked. I need some answers, now!"

He smiled and offered me a cigar.

"Go home, take some rest. I'll call you soon. There two rules. One, you don't talk to anyone about our little agreement."

"And rule number two?"

"The rules don't apply to me. Sweet dreams Mr. Tassotti."

Made my self a drink and counted the money. I won 200.000 dollars. 

What's happening? The rabbit hole is getting deeper and deeper. Where are you Emma? Why aren't you here? Insanity could use a dimmer switch.

VI

Heartattack and Vine

The city is moody tonight. It's lights spell vague threats, the wind is bleeding all the G-spots of loneliness and despair. The night isn't mine, i feel like  a ghost. Tom is blue, been drinking since 18:00.

"Why the long face?"

"The usual stuff."

"And what else?"

"I'm tired Vic. Tired of waiting, tired of being tired of everything."

"You're just lonely."

"For too long. I'm bored, so bored that i miss my ex-wife. I even miss our fights. Can you believe it?"

"That bad huh?"

"Even worse."

"You should get out, meet new people."

"What's the point, the world isn't what it used to be. I feel like a relic."

"You are, but even relics need company."

"You are such a good friend."

"And so unappreciated."

"Ah, I remember those days. When women could be women and didn't have to be men as well."

"That's the problem with nostalgia, It's not a trustfull source. I assure you, some women still sing, dance and want to have a good time."

"Yeah, but they call themselves 'Hector' nowadays."

"You were born with a midlife crisis, you know that?"

"Tell me something I don't know."

We spend the next hour drinking. Same jokes, same songs, same misery.

"The younger generations are so angry and frustrated because their music sucks."

"Here we go again."

"But it's true. What the fuck happened? These kids are walking comas! How the fuck are they even alive, who's telling them to breathe?"

"You are getting bitter, you know that? More than usual."

"Ah come on man, have you seen them flirt? If you take their phones, they won't know what to do! These girls are brain dead."

"Someone is jealous."

"Is this how you pick women up these days? Just a couple of cheesy one liners and she's ready to squat on your chops? Fucking hell I had to wine them, dine them, prove I was good enough before even getting tit, nowadays some charmless mouth breather types "you fine imma lick your flaps" and she goes "tee hee ok" and it's on."

"God's zoo is big, and the fence is low these days."

"There is no fence."

"Only offence. Everybody is offended by everything."

Last drink. Last cigarettes. The dawn is melting every happy thought that keeps me going.

"I envy you, you know that?"

"Why? Because I'm younger, handsome and talented?"

"Because you are in love. I can't remember the feeling. I'm almost certain that it won't happen again. So tell me, how is it?"

'Nothing makes me happier and nothing makes me sadder than her. I want to spend the rest my life trying to answer the question of her beauty. I don't care for anything else. She's my last shot on happiness. I thought the world was grey. She's black and white, and all the colors of the rainbow on fire. She's teaching me how to dream. And those dreams are more real and beautiful than ever. Her freedom is her art, and my life a masterpiece unfolding. I'm sorry, I'm getting really sappy."

Tom's smile was sad. He finished his drink and went to bed.

"Don't let it slip away. Even if it breaks your heart."

I walked home. Wandering, if it worth the pain, if she feels the same.  I can't sleep. Her abscense lingers in the dark. I need that whisper, that sigh. That look. Those endless nights. When Heaven and Hell are one and the same. And everything else doesn't exist beyond our bed. Pain and ecstasy in abundance, tenderness and a last desperate touch of hope.. Honey, I'm hopeless, I have no future. I'll probably get arrested when I'm in my grave, but I'll be savin' all my love for you.

VII

Vietnamese Slick

The white limo is outside. My guts are twisting and turning. Down the rabbit hole we go.

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions."

"Who are you?"

Mr. Bling gives me a card.

Lewis Ranieri, Magician-Entertainer.

"Who are you? Really."

"A friend."

"What do you want?"

"To help you."

"Why?"

"Because this is what I do, I help people with talent to reach their full potential."

"Why me?"

"I like you, you have style, pizzazz, and you are not greedy. You know when to stop. Your weak spot isn't your pocket, but your heart"

He started to get on my nerves.

"If you want to help, you have to give straight answers."

"If you want me to help you, you must ask the right questions."

"How bad is it?"

"Are you familiar with the term storm chasing?"

"No."

"Storm chasers are photographers that love to shoot any severe weather phenomenon. And if you're doing it wrong, the storm is chasing you."

"That bad.."

"Even worse ."

"What can I do?"

"Nothing without me."

"What's in it for you?"

"I like happy endings, and you my friend, you really needed one."

He lights a cigarette. Five perfect smoke rings, the one behind the other.

He offerered me champagne.

"So tell me, what I have to do?"

"First, you must take Rinaldi out of the equation."

"What do you mean, kill him?"

"No, no, nothing that drastic. Just beat the shit out of him."

"You are serious."

"Deadly."

He smiled. His presence was hypnotic. Every move and gesture,  part of a well-rehearsed performance.

"I would be dead, before I step out of his house."

"Don't worry about that. I'll take care of it. He's having his weekly poker game, I'm taking you there. Don't hold back, make them bleed. And one more thing, you have to beat the others too. Literally."

I'm dead and this is the waiting room of my personal hell.

"And what happens, if I don't make it?"

'Your sweetheart is doomed. She's quite a dish. A remarkable kind of woman."

"I know."

"Not in the way you imagine. She's beautifully broken. A creature that can understand love, only after she commits a crime. A work of art, made by accidents in slow motion. Chaos is her poetry."

"I hope you don't mind, if I tell her that."

"Be my guest. Are you ready?"

"No."

"Great. Have fun."

Rinaldi is not happy seeing me.

"What do you want?"

"To play."

"You are not on the list."

"I'm a very happening cat. Make an exception."

He's suspicious, but he lets me in. He's trying to figure out my angle. My guts are ready to explode, I'm choking on adrenaline.

Five geezers and me. They are easy prey. First, you take their money. Than, you break them down mentally.

The bald moose is frowning. I'm trying not to laugh.

"You've ruined a friendly game."

"Don’t worry, it’s just foreplay."

The others smirk.

"Oh yeah? What's next, our cars and houses?"

"I would say your wives too, but we all know that the last female that touched you on purpose, is dead 30 years now."

"Cut it out Vic! You won, take your money and leave."

Rinaldi is pissed. Good.

"One of these days Tassotti, you're going to kill yourself."

"If I wanted to commit suicide, I I would wrap a cord around my neck, like your stillborn child did."

His heart attack had a stroke. 

"Get the fuck out, you sick fuck!"

"And you're not taking a dime, you fuckin' thief!"

"And shouldn't put your ass  where they measure  dicks."

The fuse is lit.

"Hey Ricky, you look good. Are you getting enough these days?"

"3-4 times a day."

"You must be ugly for having sex 3-4 times a day in jail. Average is 6."

We are here. I'm three moves ahead.

Toss the cards on Jimmy. Ricky is down. The fatso takes the glass on the head.

Paul tries to run. I break the chair on him.

I knock Jimmy down. Beat the living daylight out of him.

This is like an orgasm. Forbidden senses  are burning, I'm shakin' with rapture.

Five down. I take the money. I'm walking to my house. Soaked in blood. 

What I've done? Am I that crazy? The best and worst thing is that I don't care. I'll climb a mountain of knives just to see you. Highways like crossed swords, I feel off balance. But fear has me on a leash no more. I had no idea that I had no idea. That there's a different kind of happiness. Trying to escape the freak show called reality, I never thought that chaos is the most liberating experience. The purest form of tranquillity. The core of happiness. 

The lunatic was right. After a crime, you feel love burn brighter. Blood slows downs time, leaves a tattoo on it's skin. The signature of perfection. Where are you? I need you, to take all the darkness out of me. Make me walk on stars again. 

VIII

Stranger In Paradise

Ten days in a Malibu villa. Sponsored by my mysterious saviour. It didn't matter. We were in our private galaxy, just me and her. She was laying on my chest, my fingertips caressing all her dangerous curves. I was happy. It's been so long, that it felt like something new. Exhausted, but tranquil, empty, and full of this magic silence. The ocean's breath was the perfect lullaby. 

"What are you thinking?"

"Nothing."

"I want to stay here forever."

"Me too."

"What's next?"

"I don't know."

"Can you trust him?"

"I don't know that either. He's been ok so far."

"And what if?".

I kissed her and brushed my fingers through her hair.

"What ever happens, you'll  stick to the plan. Go somewhere and wait. Don't tell me where. And after a week, come and meet me at the airport. If I don't show up, you have enough money to keep you out of trouble.

"I don't care about the money. Just be there."

"I will."

Ten days in heaven. Mr. Bling wants one last thing from me. And then I' m free, so he says. I don't care. If I die today, I'll die a happy man, happier than ever. This will propably won't have a happy end, but so what? Life doesn't have a happy end either way. What a ride.. 

"Are you scared?"

"I would be scared if I wasn’t scared."

I am dreaming. But I am dreaming according to the rules of the game. Not for long. No more rules, no more games. 

Intimacy is the major high of life, getting to know yourself in a deeper way, through your partner, through her world. Sharing a secret, in a language that only the two of you can understand. It's so strange.. That one person can do all that. She's not the missing piece of the puzzle, she is the puzzle. And being with her, gave meaning to everything. 

This is our last night. And the first time, after years, I prayed. I don't know to who. But I feel some kind of faith. She fell asleep in my arms. The dictionary of my life is rewritten. With lipstick, mascara and a smile that sets the dark on fire. 

IX

Bring Me The Head Of Victor Tassotti

Back to the limo. Mr. Bling is always happy.

"Ready for your last quest?

"Ready. But.."

"It will be the last. I keep my promises."

"Who are you? Really, who are you, and what's your angle here?'

"I'm the king of the silent pictures. I'm hiding out till the talkies blow over."

He smiled like a neon beartrap.

"I really like you Vic. You are always on, looking for the angle in everything. I told you, I'm a magician, a sculptor of possibilities, I carve the impossible and reveal the possible. And you my friend, are my masterpiece."

"If you say so.. What's the last quest?"

"Vegas."

"What's in Vegas?"

"Money, what else?"

"And where do I fit in?"

"Win the tournament, and you are free."

"What tournament?"

"THE tournament, sport."

"That's it?"

"You think that'll be that easy?"

"What happens If I don't?"

"You will."

"What if?"

"You will. But if 1 in a billion you don't, we'll negotiate."

"I don't like the sound of this."

"So win."

Five perfect smoke rings and a grin.

"You want a cut?"

"I'll have one this time, but it won't be money."

"Then what?"

"You'll see."

He opened the window and threw the cigar.

"We are here. Have fun."

Final act. The Super Bowl of poker tournaments. Every predator is here. I always wanted to take a shot, but I was scared. Three nights passed, like a minute. It's brutal. I need everything I can get my hands on, to keep me going. Alcohol, pills, with a twist of coke.  I'm not stoned enough for this.

Tom is here. He's having a ball. He even flirted. That clipped his wings.

"What's the matter?"

"Don't start."

"You'll get the next one. If you hit her with a stone."

"Don't."

"Look at  those lips. But can she speak?"

"Can she suck out my kidney stones?"

"Not tonight."

"Great pep talk, coach."

"You look like a turbo virgin with zero confidence, what did you expect?"

"A handjob at least."

"Don't be a crybaby over a crumb of pussy."

"Said the man who's living the dream."

"I'm just lucky."

"You are always lucky."

"You better hope you still have that German Shepherd's phone number."

"It is the greatest inspiration to be underestimated."

"You are a depressed fuck drowning in self pity all day and your serotonin and dopamin receptors are fried beyond medium rare."

"The Nobel committee called, they want to know where to send your prize."

"Stop bitching like a soap opera queen and focus."

"Bless your young, optimistic heart. If you win, I want more than half."

"Not this time Tom."

"Why?"

"I'll explain you later."

"How later? You'll send me a postcard from your honeymoon?"

"If you are nice."

Tom didn't know about my new friend. I hope I'll be alive to explain him.

It's down on me and the bearded lady. He looks like a woman who looks like a man looking like a woman. He's good. We're bleeding each other, without being able to deliver the final blow. I'm tired, I'm bored. My palms are sweating, not a good sign. I can feel Tom's eyes poking me. I'm dizzy. I can't lose. I don't want to wait no more. Let's end this, all in. 

He smirks. But for one second, there's a crack on his mask. He hesitates. Cards on the table. I want to close my eyes. My heartbeat is going to bring down the walls. I've won. I don't remember much from that moment. I almost fainted. I'm back in my room. The phone rings. Mr. Bling wants to meet. I went to his room. He's shuffling cards.

"Are you ready for your last game?"

"Against who?"

"Me."

"What's the prize? All my winnings?"

"No money, just the pleasure of it."

I'm losing every hand. This is the first time it happens. 

"Do you rememer the fist time we met?"

"We haven't met before, I would remember."

"But we have. Do you remember your real name? You were a young writer, that couldn't get a break. Sick and tired of the day jobs. Clerk, waiter, barman. You decided that first, you must live something extraordinary, and then write about it. You chose the poker world. But that was a jungle you did't know the rules, you were easy pray. We met in a bar, you were sobbing in the bottom of a glass."

He keeps winning. I feel numb. 

"There ain't no devil, just God when he's drunk". 

He smiles. I'm getting nauseus.

"I liked you from the first moment. So we bargained. A life for life, a soul for a soul. "

He took off his glasses, his eyes are dancing flames.

"Victor Tassoti was one the best poker player ever. But time catches up everyone. He wanted an escape. You wanted talent. It was a fair deal."

I collapse. His voice is everywhere.

"Eric Gates died happily in his sleep, at the age of 86. A beloved farmer. And Vic Tassotti still reigns as the king of the game. Every game."

"This.. Can't be true.."

"But it is.. And as the memories kick in, of a previous, sad and average life, we finally come to the fundamental question."

"You always wanted a happy end. You were always a romantic. But you can't have it all, sport. That girl is your destiny. But if you want her, you must give me all your money.  And there's one more twist. In Ancient Greek Mythology, the gods can't take back the talent of a mortal. And like Orfeus, you can never look back. You can't ever play again. Because if you do, your sweetheart will disappear."

I'm back on the table. I'm melting. He is right, I remember everything.

"So, what will it be mr. Gates? You can keep the name if you want, Vic Tassotti has a nice ring." 

Everything comes down to this.

"And if I want to continue to play?"

"She vanishes. Your last chance for happiness. Does it worth it? All the money in the world?"

"Take it all."

"I've already done it. Your bank accounts are empty."

"You knew from the start?"

"Everything. But it's so fun to see the plot unfolds."

"Can I go now?"

"You are free. If you don't play, you'll be happy."

He throws a card on the table.

"That's my real name. And my real profession."

Luis Cyphre, A&R.

"Why are you giving me this?"

"Because I love plot twists."

I'll never forget his smile. 

X

A Hustler's Prayer

Went to Tom, told him everything. He stood expressionless. I didn't know if he believed me or not. He got up, went to the kitchen and returned with a new bottle of Chivas. Threw a pair of keys on the table.

"What's this?"

"He took all your money, but not mine. It's a little extra I've been saving, in case your new girlfriend was a bankruptcy like the previous one."

"I didn't know that angels looked like you."

"They don't."

Half a bottle later, we were both calm.

"So, what's next?"

"A honeymoon for sure."

"Easy there tiger, you don't have that much money left."

"We'll move somewhere warm. No winters. Jamaica, Barbados, I don't know, we'll see."

"And then?"

"I'll write a book, maybe a screenplay. We'll start something small, a bar, a cafe or something."

"You'll miss the game."

"I know, but it is what it is. What about you?"

"I'll find a new protégé. Does your new friend have someone in mind?"

"You could sell your soul and become a player yourself."

"I don't think I can take a second youth, I just want to get old with class."

Last cigarette.

"You'll miss me you old fuck."

"We had fun, didn't we?"

"Tons."

"Take care. Enjoy your little winning streak. I'll come visit when you settle."

It's been two days. She's not there. Did she take the money and run? Another illusion? The last debt? No, please not that. I was ready to walk, when she grabbed me and kiss me. That kiss still lingers. She didn't have the money, she told me that Mr. Blink took it.

"He told me that there  was a price for happiness.  And if I wanted to be with you I must give him the cash."

"And what did you do?"

"You are not as smart as I thought you were."

She kissed me and leaned on me.

"Where now?"

"Does it matter?"

"No."

Four months later

I am writing something between a novel and a script. Who knows, maybe I'll run Mr Blink again, and sell my soul for a career in Hollywood. Nah, I don't care. It's really beautiful here. She's always smiling. Looks gorgeous in that gold bikini. She'll probably dump me for someone younger in four or five years. Or maybe not. We are here, and that's all that matters.

I do miss the game sometimes. But I'm happy. She made a believer out of me. Not in a religious way. She made me believe in myself and her. Happiness is not a religion, is art. Happiness is like music, jamming until you find the perfect rhythm, the perfect phrase, until you nail the G-spot of the perfect note, the perfect moment. That is magic, to bleed so much beauty, ecstasy and passion from the skin of time. It doesn't last, but you keep on playing.

I could watch her all day dance on the beach. Last call for drinks. Where are we going for breakfast...

End Credits Song