No More Suga Coating

This is hard for me to talk about. But I get the impression that he wants me to talk about it. This is one situation out of a plethora of psychic experiences I've had in which it could be said I "Saved the day". But not all heroes wear capes, some wear bonnets to bed and have insecurities about getting chubby.


I don't get keys to a city or an article written about me in some newspaper, but if I'm lucky, maybe somebody will be kind enough to be courteous to me on a regular weekday. Despite the fact that I exist several dimensions higher than the frequency humans reside on in what could be quantified as "the mundane" or regular natural 3D world, I barely am afforded the basic respect that human beings are deserved.

If I were keeping tabs, I'd even venture to say that I mostly get blatant disrespect from my peers more often than just the proper etiquette of a home-trained domestic homo-sapien, but I digress.

I've only mentioned this now, to segue into something I did, that was going to be a secret from the time it happened until our last days simply because I don't take myself that seriously. Of course, only I know the secrets and keys to the multiverse that are mine, so I cannot look down upon anyone who simply doesn't have that insight.

This particular incident took place about a week ago. I didn't want to post about it for a lot of reasons... But I'm trying to be bolder in my whole self. I'm trying to stop making myself smaller to make people around me comfortable because they hate me regardless of my efforts. I also am giving in on behalf of the person it affects. He wants me to put it out there.

So. Here goes...

One night I had stayed up late online doing who-knows-what, and I fell asleep in the wee hours of the morning. Around about 4AM I plopped down, dead-tired into my pillow and I started to fall asleep. The aether is clearer when people around are sleeping. Somewhere in the hypnagogic state when one is "falling" asleep, if you listen carefully you can hear the clearest whispers or voices of anyone who you are thinking of, or who is thinking of you and I heard a very panicked and sharp whisper state.

"Suga is dead!"

I dismissed it. The mind plays tricks, especially when it's tired, and I rolled over like Batman ignoring the bat signal in the sky at 4AM. But the little alarm in my head was going off fraught with panic, that wouldn't let me sleep until I acknowledged the news.

Then I started to panic too. I thought:

"No. This can't be happening. Not so soon after Kobe, I can't handle this right now, I can't."
And I began tossing and turning restlessly as sirens cried out to me from the depths of my despair like ocean waves crashing on jagged rocks at the bottom of a seaside cliff.

"No. I can't deal with this right now." I thought as I felt the inside of the pit of someone's stomach, somewhere, fall out with grief as they screamed a silent cry like there was no air left to breathe. That made it real. I wasn't there in person, but that emotion was actual.

"Wake up." I thought, suddenly tired of Suga's tantrum.

His heart started up. I felt him draw a torpid breath, labored, and shallow and the poison that stopped his heart still coursing through his nervous system. I pumped his blood through his veins with such intensity it would have been incredibly painful, like fire, if his soul was inside him, but at that point he was still floating above himself.  His brain had stopped firing, he was really dead.

I think Tae discovered him and, that that was who had the shock of grief.  He couldn't really breathe, how hard he was crying, then the others started rushing in to see what was wrong. Suga wanted out, though. Even as I worked to draw his life back up from the Styx, he argued that he made a choice and it was his, but I argued that it wasn't fair to me or to them, because he obviously wanted me to catch him when and if he fell, and this was me catching him. He felt a little humbled by it, but remained fixed on wanting to die. The only person who was MIA was Jimin, so I put it to a vote. "Who in here is willing to let him go on his own terms and who thinks he should stay? You have 60 seconds."

I was still breathing for him and pumping his heart, when a strange, tension overcame them all... Tae understood his depression and voted that if he wanted to go, he'd let him go, Jin agreed, crying his eyes out, Hoseok was on the fence. Namjoon totally disagreed and was torn between very publically calling for help in a situation that was impossibly complex in that moment. Jungkook was in shock.

Time was running out, and that moment was crucial as I counted down the seconds to Suga being beyond my saving, when Jungkook finally agreed with teary eyes that he'd let go only if that was what Suga wanted, in the final second.

The room was still.

After a few seconds, I let them know, that their compassion had actually saved him. Because they understood and loved him enough to let him make the choice to die on his terms, he decided himself, that he wanted to live for their sake. They were crying so hard. It's impossible to put into words how relieved and thankful they felt.

This was the hard part though because he wasn't out of the woods yet.

I'm not a doctor. I don't know what I'm doing, but I just knew I had to get the poison out. So he began sweating profusely, as his heartbeat got faster and harder, his breathing became deeper, more ragged and his head got very, very hot.

I  instructed Tae and Hoseok to go get him some ice water and then I fired up his synapses again. He said it felt like being rebuilt in layers. The first sense he got back was hearing and he could hear his heartbeat, very loud and deeply.

As the two returned with the water, I could see Namjoon pacing, nearly ripping his hair out from the stress, while JK and Jin looked like they were in a state of shock that made their knees like jelly and,  almost completely devoid of emotion, looking on with a sense of helplessness.

The next sense he could register was probably sight, but his eyes were still closed, then smell. I told them to sit him up so he could sip the water. He swallowed it and asked me why it tasted like metal.
I explained that was hard to explain, but now I'm thinking it was because his sense of taste hadn't come back yet.

He was drenched in sweat and the way I'd forced it out, made him feel like he'd run a marathon, but eventually, his heart was strong enough to beat on its own again and he could breathe on his own, and finally, his sense of touch returned, so he didn't have to feel the pain of climbing out of the valley of death.

He opened his eyes.

They were so relieved. I was shook as fuck. They were shook as fuck. I'm probably a million miles away, and somehow standing in the room with people who are absolutely overwhelmed and weak with emotion, and we just had this experience... and I just let them know it was going to be okay... I told them not to tell anybody, because it would just cause problems and once they knew he'd be okay, they reluctantly left to go back to their rooms, save for Hoseok, who volunteered to stay. They all wanted to, but it would've been too much grief for Yoongi to process if they all had, so I sent the rest of them out of the room.

They didn't really talk. It wasn't really necessary, and Suga needed to rest because apparently nothing exhausts you more than coming back to life from being actual dead.

So yeah... I mean. I'm sure I'm probably just making all of that up. "Cool story bro."
But if I'm not...

Who the hell am I?



I love you, man.