You are to do exactly as I say. Lie back in your chair and try to make yourself comfortable. Good. Please place your hands on your chest, fingers entwined. Clear your mind of any debris. It is to be a blank slate. Tabula Rasa. Your job does not matter. Your mortgage payments do not concern you. The words and actions of your spouse are inconsequential. Your sexual inadequacies, at the moment, are not relevant. You are gliding on an ocean of blackness. You do not move, yet a strong force pulls you along, an invisible current. You find yourself sliding into unconsciousness. You welcome it, for there is no reason to fight. You fall asleep.
You are having a dream now. The ocean of blackness transforms into a humid jungle. You rise from your slumber and find yourself deep in the Congo. Daylight struggles to pierce through the heavy canopy. Something is rustling in the bush, a large, aggressive animal. Behind you is a river with a fast moving current. You will drown if you dive into the river. The underbrush is too thick to penetrate on your left and right. The only path is forward. The animal approaches, its footsteps ponderous, its utterances terrifying. It is something deep and dark, spawned from the imagination of horror. You fear that if you see it, you will die of fright. What do you do, my friend? Do you stay to face the beast? Do you try to fight it? There is a stick lying on the ground. It looks like a formidable weapon. It might fend off the creature, provided you wield it appropriately. Do you dare to pick it up? Remember, the river lies behind you. It is a means of escape, though you will certainly perish if you enter its rushing waters. Surely a demise by drowning will be more pleasant than whatever the monster has in store for you. You must consider the options, my friend. All your life you have dwelt in the shadow of your demons. You are indecisive and weak. A thing of your nightmares exits the brush and towers before you. It has the head of your mother and your father's penis emerging from its chest. The penis is rigid and much larger than your own. It tells you that you must reenter the womb, for you are not yet ready for life. Its voice sounds like that of your wife's. You are paralyzed with fear. The stick lies before you, though it might as well be thousands of miles away. The creature takes a step forward, and motions to embrace you in its arms. You must make a choice.
Suddenly you are transported back to the office where you work. You are at your desk, looking at pornography on the internet. A woman is abusing herself with a carrot, but you only find her machinations mildly erotic. You need stronger perversion to become truly aroused. A young woman walks past your cubicle and you strain to look at her ass without her noticing. A part of you wants to get caught. You have not had sexual intercourse with your wife in one month. Neither of you has said anything about your lack of intercourse. It is normal for you. It is how your relationship has devolved. You feel a heavy gaze on your back, and you turn to find your boss standing over you. The pornography is plain to see on your computer. He looks at it; you look at it. The woman on the screen continues to plunge the carrot into her vagina, sounds of pleasure emitting from her lips. The stare continues. You cannot imagine a more uncomfortable situation. Everyone is paying attention now. All of the office is looking at you and your boss. Do you say something? Someone must break the silence before it swallows all. Do you make an excuse? Perhaps you admit to voluntarily viewing the pornography. A penis is growing on your boss's forehead. It is larger than your own. If you do not say anything, it will continue to grow, until it presses against your forehead. What would a man do in this situation? You must act. Your entire life has been nothing but a feint until this moment. The office woman you desire is staring at you, her face an impenetrable mask. She has your mother's eyes, and the pouty lips of your cousin, the one with whom you explored your sexuality during your childhood. Act, my friend. Confront your issues. I...
I'm sorry. Time is up. We will continue the exploration of your myriad issues another time. Please talk with my secretary to schedule another appointment. Oh, and do not park in a handicapped space next time. Good bye.
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