The 25th December was upon me so fast my head spun. As I had planned since I arrived in Cape Town, I would lock myself into a fancy hotel room and do fuck loads of drugs. To my amazement and great Joy, my lovely lady of Cape Town joined me.
Christmas eve we spent at her parents. We had a lovely meal and with a band of wayward misfits all got piss drunk while I made my famous margaritas until the whole house was on a tilt. Ashlee and I snuck off and took a bit of the Methalone MDMA mix, just enough to keep us propped up until we got back to the hotel around 3. The sex that followed was sloppy, tequila fueled with a tint of the drugs and just slightly enough to make Ashlee orgasm 4 or 5 times before we landed in the most intense cuddle with her back pressed against me. Early in the hours of the morning somehow mid-conversation, mid-cuddle we just drifted away into a lovely drug induced pillow-top mattress sleep in our Jr Suite at the Winchester Mansions in Seapoint, just south of Cape Town on the beach.
Morning came and we started the 25th immediately with me waking and torturing her. I spent a good hour or more kissing her slowly, massaging her nipples and just feather touching the rest of her body to drive her wild without actually getting her off, to the point where she was begging for it, pleading for mercy as I would tease just enough to where she was about to orgasm and I would leave her squirming and squealing so close to erupting in passion. That continued for ages, almost to he point where it was cruel, getting her all the way there and just as she was screaming “fuck you’re going to make me cum” I would back off or change up just enough to leave her to catch her breath before I would rev her back up. After telling me she would literally do anything to finish, I finally yielded. When she finally did orgasm her body was quivering and shaking violently enough that I felt I had accomplished something special, that I had given her something she had never had before. After a quick moment to recover I slipped myself inside her and at first she insisted that it was too much, she was too sensitive until finally she had both arms locked around me, refusing to let go, she was fucking me hard, deeply and passionately getting lost in the moment, the effects of the drugs were still lingering. We were both hung-over and it was the best Christmas morning I could imagine. She orgasmed enough that she couldn’t even cuddle afterwards and immediately went into some panic induced anxiety that had her bouncing all over the room. Finally I had to feed her a Valium and calm her down. That Valium mind eraser was a little too much for her as she went glossy eyed for the next few hours.
We sat by the pool and drank margaritas in the summer heat before the sun had reached its zenith. I took more of the Methalone mix to make sure that her panic wasn’t a side product of the drugs, as I would be feeding it to all my friends very soon. I felt fine sipping my margarita by the pool and was assured that she had just drank too much and was dealing with the after effects of mixing too many alcohols and sugary drinks from the evening before at her parents party.
We got back to our sparkly cleaned room where we immediately started taking the pure MDMA that I had stockpiled for my send off party thanks to my magical friend gained from the Molly situation. Within minutes Ashlee immediately went into Neanderthal mode and couldn’t walk or really speak for the first hour, mostly because of the Valium I assume. I initially panicked, thinking she had taken too much and yet again I had over indulged a lady thinking that the rest of the world can handle their drugs like I do. I finally had her lying by my side and calm as the seas after a storm. That immediately led to her refusing to leave the room, mostly because she just wanted to be alone with me high as Icarus on MDMA, but secondly because she insisted she wouldn’t be able to function in pubic. So, for the entire day of Christmas we were locked in passionate embrace after embrace while eating the entire gram of molly into the early hours of the morning. We drank dozens of margaritas during that time. The MDMA was so pure I almost immediately lost my ability to fuck, too much too fast, I actually prefer MDMA that’s a bit dirty, with what who knows, my tolerance is so high that once I “get there” I lose the ability to get fully hard unless its got something dangerous in it that I’ll never really be able to figure out what it is. That was wonderful for Ashlee, because as a result I spent so much time going down on here that she couldn’t handle my head between her thighs any longer. Our kisses were long and meaningful. We had been saying I love you since our 3rd date, on that first week and now, it was rolling off our tongues more and more to the point that it became a little more real each time.
The MDMA talk was just wonderful and not out of control to the point where it got uncomfortable or strange or too honest. It was just this whole magical day that went on seemingly forever. I was ordering margaritas by 4 and soon the room was filled with empty salted rim glasses and I could barely stand upright while my tongue would go back to work each time she was recovered enough to deal with it. I would ask and she would be unsure, and my reply would be just let me kiss it and see if you like it, that would immediately lead to her grabbing my hair and begging me to continue, there was something wonderful about our sexual connection, it got hotter with each and every touch, kiss or other wonderful brief contact. Each time she came it was like sparks arching off a battery, literally, I could taste the top of a battery on her clit. Her tattooed body would writhe in ecstasy. Finally sometime late in the hours of boxing day morning we were in a tight embrace and in perfect sync we drifted off into the most lovely drug induced sleep, just after I fed us both a Tylenol PM and Valium to help curb the hangover in the morning.
Boxing day we woke and the day started just the same, she reached orgasm 5 more times before finally rolling back over and slipping off to sleep again for an hour. It felt like our 14:00 check out time was all too close and our Christmas dream would end. Somehow those hours got longer as the clock ticked closer to check our time. It was as if when we walked out of our lovely little room, both thanking each other for the most wonderful Christmas in the history of boys and girls it just didn’t really end. We took a long stroll along the Seapoint promenade, the summer sun was hot and there were people everywhere. Our hands clutched and eyes sparkling while we just enjoyed walking and not having anything to really say. I blasted a Ritalin and a Redbull first thing to point me back north again so I was chipper as we walked in the summer sun, watching the happy people wandering aimlessly while we shared gelato and blissfully watched as the world just passed us by.
At one point we stopped for Ashlee to light up a Marlboro as this little baby black girl with a cute little afro was waving a blue bandana next to us. She was smiling her huge bright smile and was just old enough to walk from what I could tell. I waved back and squatted down, thinking of my niece and what I’d been missing back home. The little girl must have sensed that, and she turned from me and handed the bandana to her father and took 5 strides back towards me with her arms open for me to pick her up. I hesitated at first. I looked at her father and he smiled and I just couldn’t resist. I picked her up and she put her head on my shoulder and I felt a wave of comfort and pain all at once, my dear niece and the love I feel for her and that stranger’s child just south of Cape Town in my arms. I had that brief moment where I wondered if my life was all a waste missing all the precious moments I was missing from the place I come from. I held her for a moment and realized that what was happening wouldn’t be acceptable in America. I held her up and she didn’t speak just laid her head on my shoulder and smiled, shyly not responding to my questions and flirting. Finally I put her down and she headed back to her father. I felt very melancholy after that, a bit sad, a bit happy and holding the hand of the girl I loved after our wonderful weekend.
I was immediately reminded as we walked away that Ashlee and I had 7 days left together. We hadn’t really spoken about it, both avoiding the inevitable. My party was planned on the 30th of December, just a fuck you to New Years Eve and all the disappointment it inevitably brings each year. Ashlee and I would have a room north of town in a swanky joint on the beach front opposite of the city, where again we would spend the holiday fucking and getting completely sideways on drugs to send off 2017.
Two Thousand and Seventeen was a big year for Edmond, the wonder and horror it held for me. I recognized that with my death and resurrection I was meant for more. Each day was a gift, a chance to reach beyond any goal that I could imagine. Since I had arrived in Cape Town, I was killing myself with exercise and I was turning into a beast. I hadn’t looked so good since I was in my twenties. I was playing the big game now and armed with my witch doctors spell, my new hair, fresh eyes and stomach starting to look defined again. My arrogance was returning and I was ready to set fire to those that would dare to stand in his path to prevent my ascension. I was ready to start manipulating my way into the higher-class circles that could get me all that I desired in life. To take what I wanted and stop waiting for it to be fucking gifted to me. I was ready to break the rules, I was ready to lay claymores on that path to reach my ultimate goal of saving this fucking hate-filled world. If the coming cold of England didn't defeat me in the first few days.
Ashlee and I shared an Uber after our walk on the promenade and with a good bye and an I love you we separated, it felt strange after having only spent moments without touching for 2 days to let go of her. All the same we did, I had lots of work to do and writing to catch up on. I found the house quiet and immediately took more Ritalin and got to work. The final days had begun and my summer of love was quickly coming to an end. I was happy and sad all at the same time. Sad to be leaving Cape Town, which had become more of a home to me than where I come from. Sad to be headed to the cold once again: fuck the Northern Hemisphere. But Ashlee, and our inevitable separation was something that I couldn’t explain, I think we both knew that our fire was meant to burn twice as hot for half as long. She was Gemini, the first I had dated for more than a decade after swearing them and Aquarius ladies off. For the last ten years I had only been exclusively dating Librans, with the exception of Sonia (the Libra dating could explain a whole fucking lot of my maniacal heartbreak cycle). The beauty of it was that without speaking of it, Ashlee and I both knew how the fire was part of our path, and that this fire was meant to teach us something important, beautiful and painful that we would carry for the rest of our lives and maybe, just maybe that fire was more than just a flash. I wasn’t expecting more; the path was being laid before only as I continued forward so I could only trust the Gods and the thread of my destiny as pulled by the fates.
I worked for three days between Boxing Day and the 30th. The tattoo shop was busy and I was racking up so much money that I nearly lost interest in making any more and just painted in the afternoons towards the end. That Thursday I invited Rico and his girlfriend out for dinner and we got reservations for the Piano Bar, the joint Ash and I were denied our first week we were dating. Rico ended up working late so Ashlee and I started early at Rick’s the place with the best Martinis in town.
While drinking Martinis and Cosmos way too fast Ashlee handed me a little wooden African mother of pearl inlaid circular box. Inside was a little vintage silver heart and she said: “I just wanted you to know how grateful I am for you, and that I want to make sure you can carry my heart with you where ever you go.” She planned to give it to me on the first as I was leaving, but she couldn’t wait. I hadn’t gotten her anything, I hadn’t planned on it either, but she didn’t care and that made the gift so much more valuable to me.
The silver heart made me emotional. Firstly, she was kind enough to know I didn’t wear gold, and never took off my necklace. Her attention to detail, so commonly lost on someone that doest have more than a few months to get to know anyone in his life, really floored me. People don’t usually do things for me. They don’t express things to me in the form of material is what I mean, people do things all the time but being Libra, I do love pretty things, especially if they’re small and I don’t have to sacrifice anything in my kit. The true way to any male Libras heart is always through luxury, just as a non-libran woman loves diamonds, male Librans love fancy things: expensive watches and suits and craft cocktails and magical wonderful things that are fine and gorgeous. It meant more than most people could understand her understanding all that. Living this life, being alone all the time, the tiniest gesture can be worth intergalactic space diamonds to me. My eyes started to well up a bit, and I just kissed her and somehow explained how honored I was to have it, fumbling my words, already charming as fuck as drunk as I was. Ashlee left me to get ready while I continued, her house was just around the corner, but still, with headphones in at Rick’s drinking a few more Martinis while she got ready turned to a solid ridiculous buzz.
Love, I’ve learned is one of those things that’s becomes more true the more you say it. Ashlee and I were saying it so often that it was becoming a tangible thing that we could almost hold onto. It was like a rope between us, holding us together while we spun out of control completely leaning against the tension that was binding us together. That night I treated Rico, his lady and mine to a long night out on the town that cost me a fucking fortune. I ended up leaving the party early, having started so much earlier and having taken too much Valium throughout the day while they continued on, when I woke in the morning the $865 I had in my account had dwindled to $211, which in Cape Town is a fucking proper night on the town. I just laughed out loud when I saw it, my head was fucking pounding there wasn’t a tomorrow anyway, fuck it. that’s the shit I live for, treating my friends and lover to a wild night of luxury on the town only to starve in England once I would arrive and have to be in the clutch all over again. It was worth it, my only regret was I didn’t get to finish the evening with the other three since they continued on until 6 am and Rico called in sick to work and Ashlee was sleeping most the day, which was strange for her. The fact that she out drank me, even after I had been taking Valium all day was pretty much impossible at half my weight even after a dozen or more Vodka Martinis. Just made me love her a bit more. Rico’s poor girl woke the next morning with a trophy of scars from a nasty, drunken fall on her hands and arms; she was a lovely girl and my favorite of Rico’s girlfriends since I had met him.
The Friday before my big party Ashlee and I saw the new Star Wars, somewhere in between all the partying, I’m still confused as if it was during the first week it came out, or later. There were a few times I had to let go of her hand during the film because I was afraid I would break it. I had never shared a Star Wars with a lady, especially one that had already watched every film. That made Ashlee so much more special to me, our magical connection through film was amplified with "The Last Jedi" and the fact that the new era of Star Wars had begun for the children gave me a new hope that maybe the world might not be doomed after all. She stayed over that night again, by mid day we arrived in the hotel on the 30th December, to clear skies across from Cape Town, we took a little walk on the beach and held hands, and just acted like tattooed rock n rollers for a minute before heading up to get prepared for chaos of drugs and friends to come.
The End of days party was amplified compared to the year before: I had made 9 vials of chaos to pass out to each of the Edmond wonder kids. Each one had Valium, Ecstasy, the Methalone MDMA mix and a gram of Cocaine, I had spent a small fortune to give them all a night of goodbyes to remember.
The crew was about 20 deep and Russell showed up, which made it all the more wild being that I hadn’t hung out with him since I worked at the other tattoo shop years ago, 2 visits before the current one. He and I had a special connection and loved doing drugs together. The night started slow, a few of Molly’s friends showed up, and the entire tattoo crew minus Manuela, (and Natalie who was married and living in England) was there. We drank and had fun and eventually we were all blasted on drugs and everything started to get fantastical and stopped making fucking sense. My split reality started to feel like full on spirit world leaving the thoughts of reality and my living half on the other side with the crew, my vision blurred and my hands shook. I was on fire, mixing Ritalin, Valium, and the Methalone with Cocaine and just blasting giant rails in the bathroom. The cocktails were making me spin as I started to speak nonsense until the crew slowly started to dwindle until it was just Tyler, Ashlee and myself and there wasn’t a bar left in town that was open.
The fuck New Years Eve party was a success, Ashlee and I getting back to our room that night was a bit of a mystery. There is a photo of us in the light; eyes light black holes near the rooftop pool.
The sex that followed was fucking wild, intense and wonderful. We woke up late had slow and sensual sex during most of the day and spent the whole of NYE opposite Cape Town with a view of the city, Table Mountain and Lions Head avoiding all the chaos across the bay. It felt good not being involved with the miserable holiday and cuddling in bed doing drugs and exploring each other sexually, shit got kinky a few times and I certainly did enjoy the time alone with her. Oh how I do fucking hate the last day of the year. Pretty sure I won New Years Eve this year:
When morning came, the first day of 2018, before room service delivered breakfast I gave my gorgeous little lady ten orgasms assuming it was our last sexual goodbye. It was all becoming quite bitter sweet and we had to keep reminding each other to not get sucked in by the thoughts of goodbye.
All the same, the thought of a hug and a goodbye outside an Uber or in the driveway at home was making me anxious and sick. So I booked us a movie to go to. I didn’t want to let go, she agreed. I didn’t want this companionship and love to end I didn’t want to be cold in England without her.
I didn’t want to turn back to hard drugs. I didn’t want to be in a place where I felt I had no one that I could connect with and no friends. I wanted so badly to stay where I was happy and surrounded by the people I love. I didn’t want to feel that old pain and depression comeback. I didn’t want to turn to drugs to full that void. I couldn’t be weak. There can be no mercy and I knew this was the first test if I was to create a future unlike any before it. I knew that waiting for me in England would be the Doc, there to help piece me back together, to prop me up and help me make a plan to survive this heart ache and put in motion the things we both needed to do to reach our goals at any fucking cost. All the same, I knew that I had bi-weekly appointments with the dragon to get my tattoo worked on, and i was literally challenging the Dragon to a fight to the death, if I could come out victorious, I would never return to his arms and he would be unwound from my soul forever and I would fucking rise further towards the Sun. If anyone could untangle the untanglable Dragon from his soul, it would be Edmond.
Eventually, Ashlee and I were being forced from our little bubble of a hotel room, and were in a car headed to my place. Immediately after arriving we were on our way to see the new Jumanji film with the Rock, I was worried it would be Robin Williams sacrilege, but it wasn’t. It was funny enough we both actually laughed out loud, something I rarely can do. Then, again, unable to let go, we ended up watching another film, this time it was The Greatest Showman with Hugh Jackman, and from the opening scene I was crying until the last credits. I cry a lot in film, mostly because they all mean so much to me: the magic of the silver screen and seeing so far beyond just the moving pictures. Musicals especially, they really get me. The Greatest Showman was about dreams, about a dreamer. I found so many similarities and messages meant just for me that I couldn’t help it. I killed a bottle of wine in the fancy theatre while Ashlee held my hand, crying right next to me.
After the film we went back to the house to pick up her stuff, and without saying a word, just got into my bed and cuddled, there wasn’t, to my recollection an agreement to have her stay, we just both knew that every single second was worth a thousand or more. By morning, after some wonderful, slow and passionate quiet sex we finally raised from bed. She watched me pack while she did her make up and got ready for her day. Finally, about mid day, while the sun shone brightly in the sky, while the heat of the Cape Town summer was saying its goodbye, as my Father Apollo was gleaming upon me; I held this magical woman tight for the 4 minutes it took for her Uber to pull up. I held her tightly and told her I loved her. I told her I was grateful I told her things that I haven’t told anyone in a long time, I told her things I don’t really remember they were so true. My eyes were blurred with tears of happiness and self-pity, tears of guilt for putting her through this, tears of love. I kissed her sweetly, she told me she loved me and said: “you know, we met exactly one month ago today.” That broke my spirit, 4 weeks over the holidays here in Cape Town and it felt like years. I kissed her deeply. I put her in the car with her things, kissed her again and watched as the car drove away, and as it did, I walked out into the street to see her looking out the back window, hand pressed against the glass, tears in her eyes and felt the rest of my heart leave in that car. I walked back into the house where Alex gave me a sympathetic pat on the back, a rare thing for the tough mentality of South African men. I walked to my room, door open, tears running down my face and I just stood there for a while, feeling empty, wondering why I was leaving, why I had so many promises to keep, why I had to be a man of my word and reconsidering all the suffering I put myself through. Why would I walk away from this much happiness? How could something less important than my happiness be taking precedence in my life? The final exchanges of texts can be summed up by her text below:
My Heart Hurt, but was happy for we had, this photo pretty much sums us all the way up, my little Hollywood starlet from Cape Town.
In response to the confusion, before I knew it I was blasting Valium until I couldn’t feel anything at all, I was a void, then Alex, in that void discussed life with me on our way to the airport as I sent my last goodbyes to Ashlee, and the Crew. Then another to the Doc who had arrived in the UK as I ejected my SIM card. I was unreachable now. I uncomfortably hugged Alex and I felt alone again for the first time since America. I fumbled my way through South African customs and all the nightmares of the airport. Finally I ended up in the bathroom mixing more Valium and Ritalin and pounding a full bottle of wine right from the bottle in the smoking area until I was on fire, filled with wickedness, that loss of love I want the world to burn wickedness tinted with love and a maniacal sadness, maniacal gratefulness for the world and the universe as it had responded to me and my projections. Another one of the impossible Edmond paradoxes; in any other case, what would have been a train wreck and the beginning with Molly and the start of the all so classic downward spiral of Edmond and his depression was saved by my connection to the Universe and my Gods. What I learned, what I earned in that trip to Cape Town was when I’m doing everything I must do and the mission is clear, when I look good and feel good because I look so good, when I’m flying at ten thousand miles an hour from alternating the Ritalin and Armodafinil. I am unstoppable, that the whirling egg beaters inside that bag of drowning cats in my head is put on hold and I am truly, the Demi-God. I will not lose sight of that, no matter what the bitter cold of the Northern Hemisphere will throw at me, not matter how my depression rears its fucking head, no matter how strong and mighty the Dragon is this go round: I will prevail. At any cost, no fucking mercy.
At the airport I got fucked by booking with United once again and ended up in fucking coach even with my status. I immediately started writing this and editing photos and put my go to flight song on in my headphones in seat 18a Turkish airlines, “Sole Survivor” by Polkadot Cadaver, a song about a plane crash and how the sole survivor was wondering if the little boy seated next to him had ever had anyone to love. As with every flight I beg for it to fucking crash so I could get my dramatic, fiery ending or finally prove once and for all that I truly am bullet proof. The flight would be the next nearly 20 hours of my life and momentarily, while blasted on Valium, red wine and Ritalin and lost love, I was filled with self pity, whether it would have lasted for longer or not was irrelevant, I had someone, in that flicker of a moment and that is how I have chosen to live my life. Once I was on the airplane that was leaving the place and the girl that felt more like home than any other place on the Earth had for the last near decade I just did my fucking work as I crossed Africa feeling sorry for poor Ashlee, hoping sincerely she would survive the heartache. My full bottle of wine and Valium eventually nodded me the fuck out, I woke and did a few Ritalin to clear my head and continued on the airplane bottles of Turkish red while I edited and caught up. I was extra flirty with my blonde Turkish flight attendant and remembered how dangerous my silver tongue as it wagged its way into 5 or maybe 6 of the airline sized bottles while I was getting sideways and writing and editing photos. Finally, exhausted from trying to get the Turkish bank to run my American card so I could use the internet I caved and popped 3 Valium, admittedly a bit too much with all that wine and watched the BBC show "Taboo" for the zillionth time, hoping the darkness of it would prepare me for the cold, hoping to fall asleep, which didn’t happen, I just watched the hours tick by.
There was a lot on the horizon, as I headed to Istanbul. The next day was the 3rd of January 2018, the beginning of my 8th year on the road. 3rd Jan was my true new year and the celebration of all that’s possible when one lets go. A celebration of all that I have accomplished, the dreams checked off my list. A day to beat my chest and claim, “I am the fucking Dream Giant." A day to celebrate all that can happen still, all that WILL fucking happen. As sad and happy as I was to have Ashlee, there was a new focus after that first nod out from the wine and Valium that gave me a new vision, a new death stare. I was eye locked with Death himself, just to say fuck you, you can’t take me yet, as hard as you may have tried Sir, my Gods have plans for me, and I will surpass my own masterful, ultimate potential. I wont bow to loss or pain. There will be no fucking quarter nor mercy and I will be the first to suffer the consequences for failure. Knowing that the Doc was waiting in England to start our mutual but separate ascension, so connected yet so divergent let me know that certainly, the time had come and finally the ram had touched the fucking wall.
Edmond Lovecraft is at the Gates.