Curt, what's up? You doin' okay? You slippin'?
Rick called me last night. I almost didn't pick up.
I know you're still workin' through you're issues, man. You need me in your life. Whatever I did man, let's move on. Let's let bygones be bygones.
Rick has always thought I had drug problems I never told him about. Looking back, there were so many weird things about him that I ignored because I put him on a pedestal. I guess I thought an effective spiritual adviser needed to be someone almost without flaw.
I met Rick soon after I got out of prison. There was a flier at the market. It said: Is there a big emptiness in you? Do you fill it with evil things? Call Rick, he can help!
Rick seemed so under control at first. He seemed cultured. He told me jokes that I'd never heard before. Have you ever had a wookie steak? He asked me once. It's chewy.
He has a soothing voice, and he's very willing to tell you that what happened needed to happen. That you were supposed to be where you were when you met the woman of your dreams. It's easy to do that. I needed to write this blog post. Stella was supposed to develop a horrible digestion problem at a young age.
Sometimes, I just screw up. Sometimes, I just get lucky. Sometimes, some asshole hits your driver's side mirror and just drives off. If there is purpose there, I don't see it.
I've decided, Rick needs me and everybody else who has fallen under his spell more than we need him. He only has spiritual authority over us because we give it to him.
Rick, I whisper soothingly into the phone, It's over...
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