Lucas David [Full Interview]
Lucas David-Inspired Journal Entry
“I did this out of a heartbreak, or being sad for not being an artist.” -Lucas David
This journal entry is inspired by true events. Some of the characters, names, businesses, incidents, and certain locations and events have been fictionalized for dramatic purposes. Any similarity to the name, character or history of any person is entirely coincidental and unintentional.
“The guy won all the Hammys but all he sings about is 24K gold laced champagne and fifty thousand dollar clothes on the floor,” Readle says to Angelie.
Angelie pulls out her phone and looks up the lyrics to the song from the album he won the Hammys for.
“Fun Girls,” she reads out loud from the bar stool, while Readle is sauteing the kale in his kitchen. “Fun girls, I’m going to keep choosing you. The wild, crazy ones, I’m addicted. You have me in chains, and I love it. You’ll be the death of me, but I love it.”
“Is Guno Dars an artist? Or is he just someone who has given his energy away to serve an agenda to mind control others to trade real good for fool’s gold? Is he an artist or is he a puppet?” Angelie asks.
“An artist is someone who tells the truth,” Readle says.
“If you’re ever asked to be part of the big boys club, just say no,” she says to Rylie. “What are you talking about?”
“Nothing,” she says back.
He gives her a look and she looks right back at him. She is a bit annoyed that he pretends, but he senses her irritation and knows that she has caught on, so he pivots, and gives her a bit of truth.
“I can’t stand the way the world works. I don’t get us. We’re all fucking sick. I remember watching a man homeless by a hospital. An off-duty nurse was standing nearby smoking a cigarette, and she saw this man. He was throwing his guts up on the concrete. She just kept smoking and looking on. Nobody stopped to help him. A man. A human being, dying before us.”
“A man had almost run into my car the other day, but he swerved and hit another car. He got out of his car with blood all over his head and a knife in his hands,” he says.
“He kept saying sorry. He kept apologizing.”
He was under a spell. It was a daemonic influence. The Holy Spirit told Angelie. Angelie did not relay the message to Rylie. Somehow, she knew he already knew.
They had finished their dinner date post-Love Story work. And now the night was capping. She had requested to go to the restroom so he had invited her to his windowless home. She had recommended that he leaves the place. It had bad energy. Plus, she had joked, “It’s cat abuse.”
He knows a lot more than she does when it came to esoterics yet he acts clueless. Perhaps he wasn’t acting. Perhaps it was one of his three alters. Jack the ripper comes out on different days when the controller triggers his alter.
“Good thing your heavenly angels protected you,” Angelie says to him. The other day, Misty texted her with an eerie message. “Ryle’s Instagram suddenly popped up in my system. And my phone automatically started liking his photos. I think my phone got hacked.”
Angelie was thinking about Rylie during this time as well. “Rylie has an Instagram?”
“I think we need to pray for him. Anomalies are Angels giving me signs.”
“Do you think he’s in danger?”
Mysty and Angelie had prayed over Rylie the week before. Perhaps that was the day the man with the bloody forehead and knife came out and apologized to him.
He pulls her close as their lips connected whilst the city of Angels glittered gold across, panning the high rises, a testament to the Babylonian empire. She pictures his hunger for her as their wet tongues melted into each other beneath the hidden stars of the twilight, overshadowed by the lights and covered by a thick layer of magic smog beneath the city. From this vantage point, it looked like fairy dust.
“You know Ireland is a very superstitious country,” he had told her hours earlier. “They believe in faeries.”
“They are real,” Angelie had replied. He was a bit surprised at her response.
“They are but fallen angels,” she continued right before their Soon Tofu dinner.
“What are fallen angels? What do they look like?”
“I don’t know Rylie. I mean I get insights from Holy Spirit, but I don’t know the details. Kind of like a foggy dream.”
Now he looks at her and couldn’t help but smile. This girl is definitely like a dream. He thinks.
So the kisses keep both of them snug, beneath the cool night sky on the highest terrace, perched among all the other pueblos. He thinks about what it would be like to make babies with her. He’s been thinking about having kids lately, and when she mentioned how Eurasian babies make the finest ones when they were leaving the dinner place, his body had stirred. Now interlocked, it seems more of a possibility. She feels his piece, he was in full attention, and her touch only stoked the fire and the possibility more. He wanted to explode inside her and it took all the self-control he could muster up to hold back and later walk her to her car.
“When did you know that you wanted to have sex with me?” she asks in between breaths.
“Anytime you want,” he says.
“I mean when did you first realize you wanted to have sex with me?”
“Since the first time I saw you,” he says.
They had met online some four months ago. He was looking for community service hours and she ran a nonprofit that could offer such. There was chemistry since the first day, but it didn’t hit her hard until she was at a Brigham Young University library, in Utah, that was apparently haunted. At least, he brought it to her attention. This was sometime in January. That’s when it hit her hard. She wanted to have sex with him, badly, like a cat in heat. The thought of copulation wouldn’t go away. It was like a psychic attack. She wanted to get it out of her mind because they were still working together, but it kept inserting itself, what it would feel like if he ravaged her.
He has soft hands and she loves it. She wants those digits to explore her body.
It was a spell of some sort.
Their first date was at Angel Forest. Somewhere in the steep hills overlooking the city of Angels, they had come across a tunnel. They crossed the tunnel, but it also became very apparent that this was an area where people had performed blood sacrifices. Angelie’s energy is already dense so the dense energy that surrounded it didn’t affect her so much but it was a bloody reality that such sacrifice happened. It was the blood stains splattered on the walls that affirmed it. At her insinuation that the blood on the walls were possibly the results of a blood sacrifice ritual, he had put his hand over the stains and started tracing it down, like it was a piece of artwork.
“It’s probably just some type of oxidation,” he tries to comfort her.
He was right.
“You know I work next to a Satanic temple?” he tells her.
“Yeah, I think I may stop by.”
At that, he felt the impulse to do it. Just to spite the comment of command.
There was a sidewalk on Wilshire Blvd that had a metal clasp that says, “Metal Door May Open at Any Time. Do Not Walk.” When Angelie realized she was walking over it, she stepped aside and complained that it was dangerous and nonsensical to place a trap door in the middle of a sidewalk, and Rylie defiantly started stepping over it.
“You like to take unnecessary risks. That’s stupidity,” she had said.
“Calculated risks,” he retorted back.
“I guess if you calculate the Celtic luck then I guess you’re right. It is calculated by some astrological phenomenon.”
Her breasts are too small for his taste when he was fondling it but the nipples were round and huge. He traced his hands down to grab her bare butt but she stopped him.
“I want us to get intimate only after we began committing to each other, Rylie. I want to do this right with you.”
They both knew what that meant. They both had addictive personalities. They both have treated sex like it was some kind of sport, a hunting game perhaps, like CrossFit or fly fishing. She wanted to take it slow because she valued this relationship. Though they’ve been interacting with each other as colleagues, they’ve only recently begun to know each other on a personal level. This was their second date.
And yet, she knew she was stepping into familiar territory. Somewhere in a higher dimension, she knew she had chosen this again, to find the missing piece of what she may have missed when she was with Green Eyes.
What is it about the Celtics that she was so drawn to? Druids, wizards, warlocks, and witches. Was this the reptilian bloodline that she knew so well? The line of Caine that Holy Spirit has shown her in her bloodline? The line of Cain–betrayal, suicide, depression, infanticide, and reincarnation (bless or curse Buddha for this insanity) so that we can get it right this time. The cycle must end.
And why here in this metropolitan city? Just when she was called to leave? This city that the world has glamorized as one of the most exclusive and sought-after metropolitan cities in the world? Why here? She wants to leave LA.
So he plays with her right nipple and neglects the left. Why do they neglect the left?
The Three Temptations
“This world is fucked up,” he says to her at the Soon Tofu dinner in the heart of K-town.
Angelie gives him a look while they were finishing up their Soon Tofu. He had already paid for dinner. Two expensive dinners on two invaluable dates. Angelie was pensive. She closed her eyes and paused. Rylie looks at her in curiosity.
“You okay?” he asks after a while of silence.
“I’m praying for the right words to articulate my heart.” There was an urgency to what she wanted to tell him. That impatience. Steady now.
“I’ve come down to two theories as to why we exist,” she tells him.
“Either God hates us all and has sent us down here as punishment, in a rigged game so we can writhe in pain for his sadistic pleasure, or we somehow volunteered to come down here, as his soldiers on a mission to do something, perhaps to terraform this state of Being, through the love he implanted inside of us but we’ve been in this perpetual state of amnesia, and had forgotten who we really are and what we came here to do.”
Rylie’s eyes lit up. It was an interesting consideration. He will entertain it.
“Have you heard of the three temptations of Christ?”
“It sounds familiar, but I don’t remember it.”
“Well after Christ fasted 40 days and 40 days, on the last day of his fast, he was the weakest, and so that was when the devil came to him. First, the devil says to Jesus, ‘If you are God, then turn this stone into bread so you feed yourself.’ Christ says that ‘It is written. Man shall not eat on bread alone, but on the word of God.’ I thought about this temptation: One cannot be happy with using our gifts to serve ourselves alone. That is why many artists at the very top are unhappy, singing of things only they can experience while turning a willful blind eye to the sufferings of others.”
Rylie reached over to Angelie and pulled a rice grain out of her hair. She blushed and felt the tenderness of this gesture.
“The second temptation, Jesus was at the top of a mountain, and the devil comes to him again. This time he says, ‘If you truly are God’s son, then throw yourself off a cliff, and the Angels who are assigned to protect you will carry you up.’ Jesus responds and says, ‘It is written. Thou shall not tempt God.’ I didn’t get this at first, but then I realized that the devil was testing Jesus’ faith in God’s divine design for Jesus’ walk. If Jesus were to jump off the cliff just to prove to the devil that he was the real son of God, then that is also Jesus showing off whilst doubting God’s design for him. Why even put God in that position when you don’t have to? It’s like if you and I were together, and I kept on doing things on purpose to test to see if you really like me–like going out with other men and seeing if you’ll get jealous. What if I had faith that you love me? Then I can just focus on what I need to focus on without taking action on my fears and doubts about us.”
This part resonated with Rylie. He knew that woman. It was the last woman who broke his heart. He wanted to heal her wounds and she wanted him to get on his knees before her and hand her his cock. The Jezebel spirit runs rampant among the beautiful crazy females that seduce, charm, and emasculates men fueled and validated by the mainstream pop culture that perpetuates more females to embrace the Jezebel spirit.
“The last temptation sheds light on how we perceive this world,” she says. “Satan takes Jesus up to the highest mountain top and shows him all the riches of this kingdom. He says to Jesus, ‘bow down and worship me and I will give you all wealth and riches of the kingdom.’ Jesus said once again, ‘It is written. I am in this world but not of this world. Now begone!’ So that was when I realized…like Jesus, we don’t belong in this world. We are all in this world, but not of this world. We are spirits designed by God in a human avatar, just like Jesus, the human, was but an avatar inhabited by God himself.”
Rylie was amused. He didn’t catch the full explanation but he did catch the last part of Jesus being an avatar of God.
“You have interesting theories,” he said. Rylie was mostly observing how Angelie looked when she was explaining away. She had wrinkles at the corner of her eyes, dark circles that disappeared when she smiled. Her lips were full and a bit lopsided when she spoke. The left side and her right side of the face were doubly different–as if two different people occupied the same body. She had a round, moon-shaped face, and that same contemplative energy that initially drew him to the last woman was now present in this one.
“So are you saying we’re in hell?” he asked amused.
“I’m saying we’re in a realm made up of lower conscious beings, and perhaps some of us have come down to activate, elevate, and trigger a chain of events leading up to some kind of plan divinely designed by the Almighty.”
“This city is the third world. There are people living in conditions that even third world countries don’t have. Tents in the middle of the freeway on concrete.”
“You don’t see that in Europe?”
“No, I don’t. Not in Berlin either. And what’s so disgraceful is that it’s next to such opulence.”
“Do you know what the opposite of love is?”
“No, because hate is a strong emotion that is propelled by love. Pain and pleasure principle comes from the same source.”
“That’s right. Every girl I ever loved I also hated,” he reflected. “So what is the opposite?”
“What do you think is the absence of love?”
“It’s exactly that. It’s the absence.”
“Use your gift to serve others.”
“Have faith in God.”
“Be in this world, but remember, you are not of this world.”
Leave a Reply