Make it a double.

Today I went to an imaginary bar.

It was crowded. And loud.

It was not the prettiest of bars.

And it’s kind of loud was not the best kind of loud.

It was the kind of loud that hurts your bones and makes your brain ring in a ridiculous attempt to fight external dissonance with internal music.

But still, I managed to overhear a conversation. 

And this is how it went:

“Please make it a double. And no ice. Because ice. And hell. They are behind me. I’m ready to move. Forward. And forward only.

Crazy. Crazy is good. If it’s crazy forward. Going backwards to crazy things I already know from a crazy past, that’s a no. Moving backwards to get caught in a crossfire between soldiers that are not mine is another no. A categorical no. This is your war. A war between your own and very private dichotomies.

And, dear, we are not the elements either. If we were, fire would melt the ice. Water would extinguish fire. But we are people. Real people in a real world. And real people in a real world don’t follow the same formulas as the elements. Ice is ice and will stay ice unless you melt it from within. And fire is fire. It won’t go out unless you extinguish it under your own steam. We are people. Real people in a real world. I am real.”

And then the monologue stopped. To be flushed down by a double shot without ice. 

The answer. Silence. Because as it happened, the person wasn't real. It didn’t exist. And the person that didn’t exist talked to a counterpart that didn’t exist. Not here. Not now. Not in that bar. But maybe some place else.

In my head. Or in a book I read. 

Or maybe in your head.

Point is. We are real people. In a real world. And crazy is good as long as it's the good kind of crazy.

But never mind.

Sometimes, it’s just about having a drink in a secret bar in the very secret corners of your mind.
About making sure by looking into the mirror behind that bar that you are still you and that the demons on your shoulders are behind you. And just behind you.

"Listen up - there's no war that will end all wars." ~ Haruki Murakami (Kafka on the Shore)