Butt Ugly

Butt Ugly

Can I take your order, please?

He looked up. She was standing there, gorgeous. Looking down at him with her friendly cute smile. But he knew what was behind. He always knew what was behind anybody’s mask. Their thoughts entered his mind like if they were his own.

He hated them. He hated them all. Ever since he was a small child he’d known. What they thought when they saw him. He never told anyone. It was enough being the ugly kid, if he weren’t going to be a threat as well. They would hate him even more.

I’ll have a whiskey, he said. Neat, in a wide glass.

Coming right up, sir! She said, turned and walked away. Creep.

The whiskey arrived. God damned he’s ugly! He drank it slowly. Won’t he ever leave? He was used to it, but it still hurt. Alcohol eased the pain, made it easier to bare. Made him care less. He knew it would be back tomorrow, though.

He paid up and left. Walking down the road he heard the voices as always. People with their problems, their issues, their complexes. Little did they know how lucky they were. At least this one’s worse off than I am. Most of them had no idea what it really meant to suffer.

Back in his flat he took his coat off. Walked into the living room, opened a bottle, turned on the TV and drank until he couldn’t hear the thoughts of his neighbours any more.

Drank until he couldn’t even hear his own.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Telepathy

https://akanksha2hope.wordpress.com/2017/10/19/framing-it-into-words/

The Last Trick of the Illusionist

45 Comments

  1. I like how you demonstrated how much a curse telepathy would actually be. My only thought is that you haven’t caught how stream of consciousness would actually be. A waitress would think God he’s ugly… table 2 looks like they need a refill… damn how much longer in my shift.. this guys a creep…remember to smile. People rarely have one thought in their head and someone like a waitress would be all over the place trying to keep up with everything they need to do. The concept is really cool, and I could see it expand into a larger story if he picked up something like someone plotting a murder in a crowd and with that he gets drawn into a web of death and deceit that only he can solve, if he can get out of the bottle. Overall, pretty cool.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. I love your accurate account of hypersensitivity. This is only a gift if it was announced at birth. The silence in a bottle, shutting the lighted One out….poetry from a ramble, letting emotions out.
    Many don’t realize the truth in their own words….no many dissections but I look for one of worth. I relate heavily with these words as they were once my own…..until I learned to counter it with positive vibes, they are stunned at how well you hold your head high.

    Judgements conditioned, all predictable things….how else do the embrace something different than to burn it away?

    Liked by 2 people

  3. I’ve lived many lifetimes within this life. though, i did have a few synchronocities that brought me to life. I worked as a cashier at a gas station where I now know met peopel that were destined to help bring me awake…..I pay attention and am that male you spoke of, crazy the silent whispering that drives us to blackout drink, or maybe that is my own truth revealed….though I have found all my truths and false remedies were only attempts to thumb down the Holy grain….as we are each a Grain upon the beach placed in dreamlands swim. I appreciate your substance and kind words….it is such an overlooked necessity at this current time on earth. though, hate is slowly subsiding. I can feel it in the wind.

    Liked by 2 people

  4. Whoa, the title threw me off (in a good way)! So this man is repulsive, telepathic and apparently masochistic. Do yourself a favor and drive past the bar (or at least stiff the rude bartender on your way out).

    Like

  5. I tend to agree that anyone who is a true telepath would probably be misanthropic and live alone. I’d hate to hear what my wife thinks of me sometimes, and I absolutely could not tolerate a telepath invading my mental privacy.

    I wrote a story not long ago about a maladaptive telepath who, through the use of FBI secret technology, could project his personality back in time to investigate the thoughts of murderers who were killed before divulging their motives or other sorts of evidence (he couldn’t control the people, just read their thoughts).

    He absolutely hated people, and when the Feds didn’t need him for a case, he lived in a small cabin in the mountains of rural Idaho. His supplies were delivered by drones so he wouldn’t have to put up with any human thoughts. Naturally he was a chain smoker and chronic drinker.

    Of course, as the saying goes, “He’s seen some sh*t.”

    Liked by 1 person

        1. How else did he know what the killer was thinking and why did he scream to be removed from the killer’s head? Imagine you are stuck in the brain of a mass murder as he keeps pulling the trigger, feeling as if you’re doing it yourself? To me it would be horrifying.

          Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you. I think the biggest problem to this guy is that he’s too different, and does not fit in at all, both because of his aspect and his abilty. If everyone were strange looking telepaths like himself, he would be much better off 🙂 A world where everybody read everybody’s mind there would be dark sides and bright sides like always, i think. No privacy, but no lies either. Or maybe: no lies, but no privacy 😉

      Liked by 1 person

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