Jules

  Jules

  By Richard D. Brown

  This book is a highly fictionalized account of a struggling author

  (loosely based off of real events)

  Chapter One

  “I’m starting to think writing isn’t for me.” Jules ponders for a minute before inhaling DMT. The next minute, he passes out on his bedroom floor where he starts to have visions of an alien race.

  [Happy, happy

  Man be happy

  Let all your stressors die.

  Happy, man

  Be happy

  And enjoy your brief ride.]

  The alien race chants, giggling like little schoolgirls. They are human-like in appearance. With their discernable features being slightly enlarged heads and outstretched limbs. They stand naked before Jules. The chanting grows louder as they repeat:

  [Happy,

  Happy!

  BE HAPPY.]

  Finally, Jules wakes up. A smile spread across his scruffy face. He does what he can to relax the muscles, but they remain tense. He has an idea for a poem. He goes to write it down.

  {Happy bodies

  Valiantly dance

  Nude

  Against the sun.

  The freedom of their movements

  Makes it easy to feel

  Free within my own skin.

  I am happy

  To be alive.}

  Finding his work worthwhile, Jules stops while he’s ahead and moves onto packing some grass into a bong. He takes a big riff, holds it in for fifteen seconds, releases, and picks up his gaming controller. It’s delayed, but he starts to cough from the massive inhale. While it only lasts about ten seconds, it feels like his cough goes on for five minutes. Then, it hits him; thinking to himself, “Oh fuck, I’m gone,” as he realizes how high he is.

  As all of this is happening, he’s waiting for his game to load. It remains, still loading; giving Jules some time to reflect. Eventually, the menu pops up but, by that point, Jules gets another idea and rushes straight over to his typewriter once more.

  {Stoned man

  Flies high above the clouds}

  He begins to write.

  {Looking down

  Watching the population below

  As it turns into a bunch of ones and zeroes.

  He has broken

  The binary code

  Of being.}

  He stays sitting at his typewriter for some time, just reading his poem over and over again. At this point, he is completely ignoring his game as he tries to decide if the poem is worth keeping or not. Until finally coming to the conclusion that he’s too high to properly decide, choosing to save it anyway so that he can read it later once he’s a bit more sober. The game stays on, its menu music humming Jules to sleep.

  Chapter Two

  It has been a long time since Jules has slept comfortably. Often, spending most nights wide awake. But it was different this time around. As he slept soundly, he dreamt of a notebook full of writings. This dream helped him to stay happily in slumber. Soon though, morning would hit and he’d be wide awake once more. Where he would notice that the game has been on the whole night and he’d turn it off. Afterwards, checking the time; 9:15 a.m.

  Having overslept, he begins to panic. He rushes to get his breakfast and coffee together before work. Jules works as a janitor. It’s a recent job, he’s only two weeks in and he already dreads going… But he knows he needs to keep it if he wants to keep living, which he does. Thankfully, it’s not the job itself that’s bad, rather it’s how it interferes with his writing and that bothers him. The best part is that he gets the weekends off.

  It is on his one of his off days that Jules starts to notice that he’s in a creative slump. Struggling to get any words out on the paper. As he sits in his room, he feels himself growing more manic with each passing moment. Until, finally, he decides to dig into his stash of drugs. He has a lot of different drugs in there. Ranging from Cocaine to Heroin, Meth to PCP, Molly, Adderall, and everything in between. However, his drug of choice is typically either DMT or marijuana. Most of the rest is there for more aesthetic purposes.

  He chooses to DMT. He was able to get a fairly big stash the last time he bought it, so he’s confident it will last him a while. He lights up, inhales, and is blasted into another world.

  [Darkness consumes you

  For,

  The choices you have made,

  Are bleak.

  Now,

  You are stuck here

  As we devour your brains.

  Dissecting you like a frog.

  Seeing what makes you

  Tick.]

  Aliens, again. But this race seems a lot less friendly than the last. With their menacing message and slanted eyes along with their razor-sharp, blindingly white teeth. Their form is hard to make out as they remain hidden amongst the shadows. But something about them gives Jules negative vibes.

  [We are the darkness

  That consumes you.

  We are the darkness

  That will rob you of your soul.

  We will happily eat you

  Draining you of your juices

  Until there is nothing left.

  Give us your being

  So that we may be whole.]

  The leader bellows to Jules as other aliens stand around him with forks and knives in hand. As they slowly close in on him, it becomes hard to tell if he’s shrinking or if they’re growing. The moment the knife starts to pierce Jules’ skin, he is jolted awake. Snapping back to his crappy New York-style apartment where he’s lying on his living room floor, drenched in sweat.

  He goes to wash off in the shower. In doing so, he is blessed with a resurgence of energy and new story forms from within. He goes to his typewriter.

  {Once golden

  And filled with happiness

  Has turned green

  Like mold.

  What has my life come to?}

  After he finishes writing, Jules goes out for a walk. While walking, he starts to hallucinate that the trees are talking to him. “Hello!” he calls out to the trees. “How are all you lovelies doing today?”

  Instead of responding, they just continue waving in the wind. Jules, however, keeps the conversation going. It’s hard to tell if he’s putting on an act or being serious. Regardless, this continues until he finally gets to the park. Once there, he stops talking and simply listens. Listening to the rushing water, the birds chirping, and to the soft wind blowing. He sits at a bench near the water and pulls out his notebook to write:

  {The water floweth

  From far away

  Rushing towards me

  On this fine day.

  I am outside

  And there is peace.}

  Soon after, he rips the page out of his notebook and throws it in the garbage. Deciding his words are lackluster and unworthy. He then sticks his notebook back into his pocket and runs home.

  Chapter Three

  Running home turns out to have been a bad idea for Jules as it allowed his thoughts to race faster than he expected them to. Once home, he heads to his typewriter he sits hunched over writing, discarding, and rewriting again; struggling to find the words that best emulate the thoughts surrounding him.

  {The trees wave…} No!

  {The water…} Nah.

  {My brain is melting…} Oh… Fuck it!

  Eventually, he realizes that this is going nowhere and stops. Deciding it best to sleep, but hating himself for it. For the words he was not able to find. This causes Jules to have nightmares. A nightmare that stood out was of a big, fat man who kidnaps him and puts a burlap sack over his head. Taking it off once they reach their location. Forcing Jules, at gunpoint, to recite the alphabet forward and backwards. With each letter that escaped his mouth coming to
life, providing nutrients for the fat man. It was bizarre, to say the least.

  Another nightmare was of a million floating heads – both, big and small – chanting over and over again to Jules, “You are a failure! Give up. Give up! Just give up and kill yourself. You useless waste of space. You fucking failure, you.” This frightened Jules, causing him to wake up in a cold sweat. His first instinct when he awoke was to get some cereal.

  After eating, he goes to write. With the dreams acting as motivator for him. This time, he moves slow. Writing with caution, making sure to understand the intention behind each word.

  {I am Jules,

  An all-powerful being.

  Stronger than a nightmare.

  Yet,

  I am no God.

  If you were to put your trust in me,

  I would only let you down.

  Using love as my excuse,

  For I am a coward.

  Today,

  I went insane.

  Convinced that trees were talking to me

  And told,

  In slumber,

  That I am a failure.

  I do not know

  Where my mind has gone.

  I am Jules.

  I wear sweatpants often

  Accompanied by a comfy, grey hoodie

  And I write poetry for a living.

  It is a miracle

  That I can survive like this.

  I am Jules,

  My life is a mess}

  He sits up in his chair and takes a deep breath. Once he finishes writing, he decides that the poem he just wrote would be a good fit for a book someday. So, he places it into the “book” pile. Which is, essentially, a pile of poems that are better than the rest; poems that he plans to, one day, turn into a coherent collection of sorts. Next thing he knows, he’s getting a call from his sister. She’s asking him if he would like to go see a movie with her and her boyfriend, Raheem. Jules happily accepts the offer and spends the next hour getting ready.

  He waits another thirty minutes after getting ready until his sister, her name is Evelyn, shows up and the three of them go see Inside the Mind. It is a modern-day romance with some horror elements thrown in. Afterwards, once he gets home, Jules takes to social media to share his experience with the film. “Just saw Inside the Mind. Man, oh man… Did Greenberg kill it or what!? And that imagery? It was truly haunting and memorable. #movies” he posts with an image of the poster attached.

  Before logging off, he notices that a friend of his likes the post. Which then inspires Jules to write another poem, this one being titled A Modern-Day Revelation.

  {I sit here,

  Bored.

  Staring at a screen

  As it slowly distorts my vision.

  Nothing’s happening,

  Really.

  I’m on social media

  Just passing the time.

  What’s weird is that

  I have not felt

  This kind of “in the moment” sensation

  For quite a while.

  I go to log off

  And as if by

  Some sort of

  Telepathic genius

  A friend likes my post

  Sending dopamine to my brain

  Placing me in

  Nirvana.}

  Chapter Four

  Some days have passed and Jules has been itching to smoke DMT again. His plan is to wait until the weekend. “It’s Thursday,” he reminds himself. “Just relax,” he says, “a couple more days.” During this time away from DMT, he has been smoking a lot more pot. And while it may not produce the same kind of experience, it has definitely helped his creativity. Here are a couple poems he wrote while high.

  Poem 1: Hopping Around Beside Me

  {I see a figure

  Hopping around

  Beside me.

  I cannot tell

  If it’s evil or friendly.

  I have caught a glimpse of its face

  It is adorable,

  Like a bunny.

  I dare not question

  How it has gotten inside

  To hop beside me.

  I merely observe

  Taking pride

  In its odd figure.

  It stands small

  With a hunch

  Like that of a squirrel

  I’ve heard it shriek once before

  It was undiscernible.

  Perhaps it is all the pot that I’ve been smoking lately

  Causing me to grow paranoid

  And to hallucinate.

  But damn that thing looks so real.

  Maybe it’s a mouse?}

  Poem 2: Horny Off this Grass

  {I’m sitting here

  Getting high

  And all I can think of

  Are naked girls.

  I feel so alone in this moment,

  But so glad to be alive.

  Happy with this marijuana

  And the buzz it provides.

  Finding joy in these thoughts

  As they help me to feel

  Less alone

  In this empty space

  That I call my home.

  I hope this sensation never ends.}

  Poem 3: It is Ending

  {As nighttime quickly approaches

  The high I once felt

  Starts to dwindle down

  To nothingness.

  My words become muddy

  As I begin to stumble…

  Transitioning to

  A sober state.

  It sucks to be sober,

  But it helps me to sleep.

  At least I have my memories

  Of what it’s like to be stoned

  To keep.}

  Eventually, Jules’ high does wear off and it is still only Thursday.

  Chapter Five

  It’s Friday now. While at work, Jules’ friend, David, sends him a video of a man getting into a motorcycle accident. He doesn’t watch it until he gets off of work. On the bus ride home. As he watches, he cannot help but to notice how the Go-Pro distorts the movements of the rider. Making him look almost robotic. This sends Jules down a rabbit-hole of thought where he starts to realize that most humans have robotic-like movements and patterns. Instead of becoming paranoid, he makes a mental note of it as it could provide a good story at some point later on.

  He holds onto this thought for ten minutes. Ten minutes to get home, sit down, reflect, and write. However, as he begins to write he starts to notice how tired he is. So, he’s able to get out a few words, “Humans // They move // Rigidly. // Like robots // Throughout the day,” before he falls asleep. An hour or two passes until he wakes up. He awakes in front of his typewriter. After gaining his bearings, he stretches briefly before writing:

  {Humans

  They move

  Rigidly

  Like robots

  Throughout the day.

  Making strange

  Boops and beeps

  While following

  The orders

  Of another.

  Lacking in any real intelligence.

  A marvelous creation

  For a lonely individual

  To mess around and play with

  Before being killed off

  When malfunctioning.

  Humans are a beautiful thing

  But I doubt that they are real

  Which means

  That I am fake,

  As well.}

  Once he finishes, he thinks back to the final line and becomes strangely anxious. After some time sitting at his desk in thought, processing his emotions, he decides that this poem is… Going into the book (pile). He places it into the pile and gets up to do some more light stretching and a few different exercises. He starts to grow bothered by the silence and the lack of things to do, so he heads out to the bar.

  He gets to the bar and has a couple drinks alone before calling up David to join him. “Okay, I’ll be there shortly. Give me fifteen minutes. Hold tight.”
David responds to Jules’ offer. Once he gets there, he comes through the doors shouting, “THIS GUY!” Then, as he gets closer to Jules he says, “My man!” a bit more calmly. Jules responds, quietly, “Haha. Hey man, what’s up?” “Not much,” David responds back; “And you?” “Oh, you know…” Jules sighs, “Just trying to write my book.” “Oh yeah? No kiddin’! And how’s that coming along?” “It’s…” he pauses-it’s barely coming- “It’s… a work in progress.” He tells David, ashamedly. “Oh, umm… Well, just keep at it man.” David encourages while patting Jules’ back.

  “So, hey, I saw your post online. You watched Inside the Mind? Crazy, right? Isn’t Laura Greenberg just the hottest!?” David starts to spit off. “Haha. Yeah… She is pretty hot. Felt like the acting could have been a bit better. But like I mentioned in my post, it was goddamn beautiful. The cinematography was just… On point.” Jules explains. “Amen to that, brotha!” retorts David.

  The two of them then sit there in silence as they knock back a couple drinks while nodding their head to the music playing softly in the background; it’s collection of untitled smooth jazz hits that buzzes in their ears. David puts his hand firmly on Jules’ back and goes, “Well, hey man. It’s been nice. But I got a family to get back home to. You good?” “Yeah, I’m good. Thanks for coming out tonight.” Jules replies, “I should probably get going as well, that book isn’t going to write itself! Take it easy, man.” “Will do, my man.” Goes David, “Will do.”

  The two of them depart and Jules decides that, instead of going home and writing more, he’ll go home and fall asleep; coasting off the good vibes he’s currently feeling. He could always just write some tomorrow.

  Chapter Six

  Jules wakes up to a bright, calm Saturday morning. His first instinct upon waking up is to schedule his day out so that he can be in the most optimal position to have a good DMT trip later on in that same day. First, he jots down, “Eat breakfast,” before moving onto more complex items to accomplish. He runs out of important tasks early on, so he adds a slew of miscellaneous stuff to help make the list fuller. Finally, scheduling in his DMT session for 4:00 p.m. His schedule looks something like this: