Rome And Jupiter

by T. Тоска Tarasios

This is a short story about contemporary issues

Revelation

“I could never shake the feeling that the world was ending. In the few dreams I still had, I would stand in the eye of a storm which slowly shrank around me, there was no way to escape, the cataclysm tightened her grasp on me and my world.”

“White on black, clouds against the night sky, pixels drip down my screen. That’s all there is, I thought; the end. Holding the disgusting bottle in my hand, it confused me that there should be such a bright moon on a night like this. Does the world end on a full moon?”

In the woods of a park of a North American suburb, it didn’t seem like Jerusalem, maybe more like Sodom… more like Rome. “Here I am,” thought Rome, at the end of the world; come Ragnarok. “I laughed as I began to cry because it was too beautiful. Then I took them all, it was easier than I expected, less dramatic.”

Oblivion: what does a man see when he looks into the void? Does he see nothing, himself, some revelation? Rome saw something, something he didn’t expect. A ray of light pierced through the darkness and an angel laughed at Rome from his seat in the clouds, “you must be a ridiculous man!” Rome didn’t know what to say. He was, of course, ready for damnation. But he had given up on repentance, convinced that it was impossible for a young man like him.

The angel straightened up upon seeing Rome’s fragmented sadness. White on black, he was contrasted against the void. “Come on, stop frowning at me like that, let me show you something.” Then the light overtook the void and Rome was being pulled to the surface.

He had his stomach pumped and was admitted to the psychiatric ward at seventeen years old.

Master

During the first hours of the day, his second monitor was displaying messages from a public server. Usually his primary monitor was used to play games and yet tonight was one of those nights where nothing seemed to serve. So Jupiter scrolled through the people who he messaged sometimes and stalked the channels for someone to quench his loneliness and help him escape his boredom.

His brain was mush, he wanted to renounce possession of sentiments and sensations. Jupiter was Prometheus, each disengaging message a new kafka. Then he saw something:

Rome: “Hi, I’m in the hospital now.”

User3 replied to Rome: !? Are you ok

Rome is typing…

Jupiter clicked on Rome’s profile, “What a name, maybe I can talk to him about politics?” But more than this a subconscious yearning bubbled to the top of his brain, “maybe me and this person have something in common. Maybe they will talk with me… Care about me.”

He sent Rome a friend request and they began to talk. First about small things and then about silly things. They had given Rome his phone back as he sat in his hospital bed with an IV stuck into his arm. He was euphoric and depressed, he hated the smell of the place, he hated the way the doctors looked at him and how they thought… about him.

Jupiter messaged and messaged, typing as fast as possible. He learned that there was a madman just across the floor from Rome who wouldn’t stop yelling about incoherent nonsense, he learned that Rome did not have any headphones. Then he learned that Rome had been shattered into a thousand pieces and with the help of an angel he was brought back to earth. Jupiter was an atheist but he didn’t care. He loved more than anything the way in which another person cared to respond to him. They had some things in common after all, as Jupiter had predicted.

They exchanged pictures of each other's faces. They were horrible photos, they were both pasty, long haired, poorly shaven and poorly washed skinny young men. In the background of the photo, Jupiter could clearly see that Rome had not been lying about the hospital, it sobered him for a moment and then looking back at Rome’s face he smiled subtly. Jupiter smiled as much as he could for a man with his posture towards life. “I can see something in those eyes which hide beneath unkempt bangs. The black pupils meet with the white sclera, a mirror of myself.”

Jupiter was an honest person, he had nothing to lie about to others. He simply wanted to be recognised in his truth, pathetic, raw and vulnerable. Rome understood this without having to intellectualize. Of course, he suffered from the same disease. They stopped talking when a therapist wanted to borrow Rome to check in and speak with him briefly.

Rome: Hey, I’ve got to go, thanks for talking with me. I should be back in five.

Jupiter: Of course, thanks for talking with me as well.

The Circle Closes - The Bells of Heaven

The therapist spoke in a comforting, almost babying tone with Rome. But even the broken and lost Rome could tell she was nervous. “So, can you tell me about last night…” Before Rome could respond, she reconsidered, “I understand that you’ve been through a lot in life” Confused and slightly bewildered, Rome responded: “I know that.” Getting back on track, she began again: “Can you tell me about why you did what you did last night?”

Thinking back on it, Rome could see the moon shining clearly once again, then he saw the pillars and their staircases, a thousand and one, he traversed them like the Library of Babel. There was a storm which closed in on him, fate --the goddess Sheva-- lowered him into her mouth to devour him. Then there was the void… and the angel with a sense of humour.

The therapist listened quietly and yet was utterly disquieted. It was hardly the first or even the hundredth young man who had a similar story as Rome, who now stood before her; looking up at her, still a head smaller. “I understand Rome, we’ll keep you here for a week. I want to talk with you again, I have hope for your future.”

Rome: Back

Jupiter: What happened?

Rome: The therapist just asked me some questions

Jupiter: You don’t have to answer but, why is a therapist asking you questions?

Rome: So you’re my therapist now lol

Jupiter was confident he already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it from Rome himself. Indeed all was divulged, with much more clarity and brevity than the therapist received. It hardly concerned Jupiter, in fact it made him even more sure that they were one and the same.

“Maybe the world didn’t have to end, this angel, is he Jupiter? Someone cares about me enough to talk with me, it's comforting. He’s similar to me in a lot of ways though, I wonder why I’m here and he’s out there. What is the difference between a zero and a one, between white and black? Alive and dead… My head hurts.”

“Jupiter has a certain type of face, a needful one. It matches the way he talks. I told him that, and he agreed. Most people are so fake, I’m surprised at his honesty.”

Rome was talking to himself, but he hardly had an internal monologue. Surviving a near-death experience comes with a bit of a magical feeling even for the most depressed, outside of the foreboding idea that one is being kept here on this earth as a punishment or has in-fact, already died. This feeling kept Rome away from sleep as he eagerly talked over every useless minutiae and irrelevant history with Jupiter. It turned out that Rome was interested in politics and history to a certain degree.

One matter was of note: that a great empire can really only fall by means of suicide; both spiritual and material.

Act 5

Over the hours, the conversation between Rome and Jupiter had become slower. The level of intimacy possible for two strangers to achieve through zeros and ones alone is limited.

Jupiter: So, what are you going to do after this then?

Rome: I don’t know

Jupiter: I guess that makes sense but don’t you have some aspirations or goals… for when you get out.

Rome: No

Rome: I never expected to get out lol

Jupiter felt a twinge in his stomach. Over the course of those swift and full few hours, compassion had been awoken in the heart of a young man who was previously dead to the world. Compassion for pixels and the world of representation, yet it was genuine, as genuinely as possible for a simulation involving two parties --a twin fantasy.

He tried to talk to Rome about the future more, but he quickly realized that he was getting nowhere, the response times became longer --he must have been annoying Rome. So he gave up.

“I don’t understand why the therapist said she has hope for my future. She’s wrong. Extending a miserable life is pointless, extending life for life itself is pointless. If there is no reason to keep going then one should stop. I was saved from death and yet was the void so scary? I can’t stand this hospital, I’ve spent too much of my life in places like this. I’m not crazy, I’m not ill, I don’t understand why no one ever understands that.”

On the roof of the hospital, the sky was a lighter shade of black, the clouds still danced innocently between the stars.

Rome: I’m going to try to sleep now

Jupiter: Goodnight, talk tomorrow

As he stood at the threshold, Rome got another notification.

Jupiter: Love you.

Rome couldn’t stand to look at it for more than an instant, he cried. That night a shooting star raced over the hospital at a thousand miles an hour, white streaking across the nebulous sky. One of the staff witnessed it with a subtle appreciation of its beauty as she finished her cigarette.

Genesis

Jupiter learned of the death of Rome the following week when someone else who “knew” him posted a news article about his death in the server. At first Jupiter couldn’t believe it, reading the article and double checking the facts. Then he wanted to cry, but couldn’t seem to muster even a tear. After accepting the news, he couldn’t do anything, he just sat in his chair in front of his screens and tried to understand what he should do… Yet there was nothing he could do.

Then he got up and left his house, taking nothing with him, and went to a park. It was a long walk in the midday summer heat and yet he thought of nothing as he marched. Five or so kilometers later, among pines and birds he stood at the top of a mountain. Jupiter’s clothes were soaked in sweat and he was breathing heavily.

Jupiter looked down, trying to imagine what it would be like. Trying to think of why he should or why he shouldn’t. He remembered the last message that he sent to Rome and he flung one foot over the threshold.

Jupiter stumbled back away from the void. Hyperventilating, his eyes became blurry and he wiped his brow. With a renewed perspective, Jupiter looked across the threshold again, it was a mystifying valley with a thin river at its base. Then Jupiter understood something.

He never turned on his computer again, one day he even moved it to his basement, far out of sight. He never forgot Rome, but he had no desire to follow in Rome’s fate. A resolution was conjured up inside of him, one which fundamentally altered his being. Jupiter was going to fix himself, to put himself back together. Yes, he knew that the difference between himself and Rome was infinitesim

al and yet, maybe if he saved himself he could save Rome as well.