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: | April 26th 2005, 01:48:10 |
| Visits: | 1242 |
| Rating: | Not rated yet. |
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This morning I woke up a half dozen times between 10 30 and 11 30, and stared at the clock, attempting to discern the message it was trying to send me with it ' s 11 14 glare, and failing. I couldn ' t figure out the corrolation between that number and when I had to get up, the number didn ' t mean anything to me. Eventually, indirectly it convinced me that, if only to become cognizant enough to understand what the clock meant, I should get out of bed and attempt to coax the effects of the sleep god from my head.
The wall next to me shivered, as though it were a claustrophobe. My room was a textbook example of an enclosed space. I sat in a chair and stared at a news clip to try to force my gears to mesh and make some kinetic energy. The news, probably by dint of scare tactics instead of intellectual effort, pushed the haze back into the painful back of my head.
I put my hand on the wall and felt a kinship grow between us. The strange matrimony of spirits had a staying effect on the growing bile I felt from the nasty narration that someone else had seen fit to place as journalary testament of human nature. The solidarity that warmed between the sadly shivering wall and I was comforting, and faded forcibly the divisions of my brain, logic and emotion for once without a wall between them, and my hopes and aspirations could be understood by geology. I placed again my gaze on the news, and with a jolt of shock stook up; the terrible words there had not gone away!
The wall shrugged, but suddenly motivated by its own perception of something I could not see retreated from the side of my tenement building. Perhaps the dark and crowded rooms had finally broken its nerve. Peeling away like some dollhouse front, I didn ' t mind at all that people could now watch me as I sleep. Through some tangible means, perhaps the way a wall can cry and scream, it retained the bond we had made and pulled down with it my eyesight. I can see myself clawing for it as the wall and I flee to the ground, and the building seems to grow during the descent.
Now that the toy bricks had tittered to their place of rest, the (finally in truth) dollhouse sits before me, the inhabitants unaware of my omniscience about their every move. Some lady in full raiment has surrounding her table equally noble ladies, they all looking much like pictures of the Virgin Queen, altough more coloured in the cheeks. "Really, the differences between the man and woman species," she declares, "are such that I have not the slightest clue how they may arise from the same mother." they titter, while further in, down some improbable path, a parasol is making its excruciating way to them, up some hill and down some path.
I want to run, run to the dainty thing and tear it from the unthinking possessor, carry it torch-like as I take it as though the turning of battles depended on me to place it by the table. The possessor should not be missing this discussion. I see a labyrinth then, which has across the ocean from it a city that is sending their last sacrificial shipload thereto. Why shouldn ' t the people rejoice that Perseus is just come, and will ride in lieu of the next boat. The sacrifices should pardon the city for not bidding them forwell, for it is too busy toasting the hero who will save, who will save whatever it is he will be saving.
The wall has taken me into the space without, where architecture holds account books of the people around it. I am not a piller, so I really must leave. Straining, I can look across the ocean, back, back to my body still silent and waiting, like Mortuus. I will strike out across the waters that creates seperation within me. I will swim stroke after stroke, past endurance past any points of any form of return, and if I drown, it will be farther than others have made. If, opposing that I drown, why then I have surpassed the divisions and come to the land. |
TheAwake
April 26th 2005, 15:38:35
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| I finally do not sense any recently evolved questions. |
hollow
April 27th 2005, 02:01:15
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| the poor boy need not even leave his own room to feel utter alienation in a world that does not make sense to him. |
TheAwake
April 30th 2005, 08:42:33
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| obviousness, the old fiend |
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TheAwake
