PHQ-Nickname:
hollow
Halfquake:
Radical Perfection
Level:
21
Total kills:
711,304
Birthday:
September 25th 1985
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| Mood: | depressive |
| Type: | Story |
| Added: | January 08th 2005, 10:14:31 |
| Visits: | 1134 |
| Rating: | Not rated yet. |
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Description:
retooling of an older work |
It happened suddenly, without any cause that I could fathom. My eyes shattered. I watched through the shards as my future became refracted and distorted, dancing in thousands of wavy lines that all pulled from me in all these new and unique ways I could face my feet. Crashing on my senses were emotional faces i might meet hundreds of times, an infinite march of so many of myself, the fall of nations of which no one had yet heard.
The hordes of might-be people grew long and spidery, their teeth becoming fangs, their arms forming fragile threads, but then fattening grossly seen through the distorting rain of eyepieces. I walked among them in the earth that danced and warped. The myriad histories of the worlds were my new home, where I cried, rejoiced, lived. Always surrounded by the uncertain, wavering people that I did not consider inherently less than me for their insistence on merely one possibility. In fact, I admired their bravery.
Sadly, my ears remained unshattered. As I continued to dwell in my new way, all I heard was the continued cacophony of that silly string of time I used to tightrope walk. Hi, my name is. Want to go out for a drink. Such nonsense I've had to ignore. Would you get that for me. Would you like a peanut. Would you marry me. I need this by Tuesday, A Tuesday. I can't even recall what a Tuesday is, or if I had had any, before. The din I hear and the world I see waver from peaceful to clamorous in roughly the same way.
Sometimes the shifty people seem to become partially aware of me, and that was one of those times. Although, I have to say, that seemed more than partial. The woman (that is what they are called) was looking at me most of the time. That's usually the end of it, but this time, the voices I hear, the sense I have learned to ignore and hate, was joined with her. The words are synced with her mouth. I am gone. This is not working out. I need out. She left my presence. I followed her, but no more of the noise seemed to come from her. What more is there to say? The noise ended soon after with a loud report, and finally I had peace from the useless sense from then on. Although, I did have a feeling of regret, concerning that woman. Perhaps she had my Tuesdays, or knew where I kept them.
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Insidious_nOOb
January 10th 2005, 02:02:43
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| WOW... |
hollow
January 10th 2005, 08:49:22
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| Thank yoU |
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Insidious_nOOb
