jat-balwal
10-23-2009, 12:28 PM
hey, this is the first story i actually finished, i'd like to know what you think about it. :)
What is it, that makes a man? Tell me please. i need to know. for some reason, i think i'm wrong. i thought i'd found the answer, but for some reason, my answer, my solution, seems incorrect. Love. love is my, answer and i stand by it. but, I must say that it has brought me nothing. Nothing! Nothing but hurt and anguish! It has created ill feeling towards my friends.
but, then again, isn't this how a man should behave? being bitter and twisted, devoid of emotion?
Now tell me what happens when the love you desire is awarded to someone else. and then, when you gain knowledge of this, why does it resonate through your head.
And how do you make it go away?
********************************************
I take a long toke on my cigarette, trying to view my life through someone else's eyes. i'd like to think they'd say something like 'sophisticated, clever, suave'. but i'm forced to re-evaluate. i am not the suave man that i'd like to be. right now, i feel like a bumbling fool. Bound away from reality by love. the comedy of life. i am the slapstick, and damn if i dont feel like it.
so, what to do? sit in lethargy about my comedic actions? No. that isn't me. but then what? what is there? some would say that i should be a man. empty myself. into what? a cup? no, its impossible to empty myself.
a second cigarette, wow, i've only ever had two in a row when i've been bored. this matter is serious.
On the fifth cigarette, i find myself despising god. This is god's fault. no break is ever cut to me, so what? i cant do anything to god. this anger against god has added to my repetoire of emotions. how manly.
********************************************
the sixth cigarette is burnt to the butt. i havent got money for another packet. i should do something. i refuse to be a lethargic mass.
********************************************
the shops. home of our convinience and greed. all this space, dedicated to suburbia. but still, its the constant reminder of my idiotic emotions. i've beaten this path so many times, out of necessity, boredom, even love.
i've nothing left, while walking, i fantasize. if i was a man, what would i do? rob a store, kill a man, all those things that seem to lack emotion. but are they really men? what goes through their minds?
i pass the pharmacy and find the park, in spite of myself, i think 'old habits die hard'. its noon. the dogs are here, being careless, playing, running about. its ironic that the sun is shining. i can barely walk. my heart feels so heavy. i sit on a convinient bench, and light my seventh cigarette.
********************************************
i should tell you what sparked my question. and why i ask such questions.
i was defeated, in life, and in love. a woman that i loved, i lost her. i dont know who i lost her to. but its certain that i lost her.
i wish i knew who it was i lost her to, i dont believe that he loves her like she should be loved.
Look at me, hating a man i dont even know, this is why love is so manly, it stirs up a fever in us, we lose our minds to it.
What was it that makes her love him? what is it that he can do?
********************************************
The eighth cigarette, i feel slightly queasy, and my heart is racing.
everything works in theory, doesnt it. even a child who's starving, their life would work in theory.
i should said something, written something, she wasn't stupid, but at least to let her know. funny how you always think of the best thing to say afterwards.
********************************************
The pen-ultimate cigarette of my packet, anger poisons my blood, putting pictures in my head. Oh fate you glorious fool, where will you lead me next? home? a train? or even in front of a speeding car?
Suddenly i'm standing, the bench is metres. i must've walked, but then, why am i still doing it? i break into a run, hoping to escape my inexplicable and unmemorable movments. i run out of the park and back into suburbia, where i collapse. i throw up nothingness and bile. too many cigarettes.
a colony of ants is next to my hand. i follow a worker, mundanely collecting leaves and other edibles. inevitably, it notices my fluids, my throw-up, tears that streamed from my once dry eyes. bile to me, food to it. this worker ant is cleaning up my mess, as it does for society every day, be it a banana skin or a half eaten bake. whats the fruit of its labour? nothing but a small amount of food, a lonely, unappreciated worker ant.
Rage consumes me again, i manage to get the ant on a reed, and put it at the top. this ant, this unappreciated ant is at my mercy. like i was at her mercy. it is up to me whether it lives, dies or suffers. it feels great inflicting this rather than receiving it.
*******************************************
What is love? wanting to screw the sexy one? no. thats lust. companionship? nope. thats what friends are for. love to me, is plain and simple. just wanting to hold and stay with that one person forever. disagree if you want, you know i'm right.
*******************************************
Ninth cigarette, i'm saving the last one. i've gone into the city, escaped from the prison we know as suburbia. the evening is coming, and as the sun begins to set, i find myself in Chinatown, still neck-deep in self-loathing and pity. i wish for a dealer, i have chip but no fish. but nothing.....maybe camden later.
i'm hungry, but with no money, what should i do? the sane me says to head home, but i cant bring myself to re-imprisonment.
*******************************************
it's eight o'clock, people are beginning to stare. i've stayed in this same spot for two hours, but i dont remember any of it. any publicity is good publicity though, thats right, i've made about fifteen pounds just standing there. i didn't realise this until i moved an inch, my depressive state changing its mind and willing me to move. Dinner is marred by the greatest headache in the history of man. i have ten pounds left, so i smoke the final cigarette i have and buy another ten-deck. i smoke another and then promise myself that i'll only have another if something significant occurs
*******************************************
nine chips but still no fish, i'm walking to camden, i'll save this money for 'food' and fare home.
this walking cleanses my soul, pictures flash across my eyes, some good, some bad. my dreams and desires are represented to me, and then my nightmares, my worst fears thrown at me, piercing me like knives in my side.
i come to my senses outside camden station, and realis a great sadness, pressing upon my chest, my face and neck dampened by tears. i'm out in public, broken, still weeping silently.
i want to be inconspicious, thank god for hoodies. i run to the loch. i've got to calm down , pull myself together. but i cant. it seems to me that there's no world without that chance i thought i had. my heads in my hands. there's a deep body of water infront of me. i'm not safe here. not as i am now.
but its happened again, like it happened in chinatown. i'm stuck. trapped in this spot, in this body.
cravings are kicking in, i cant move for the cigarette. what is this? its not right. i dont remember it in chinatown, but i remember it now. its horrifying, i'm stuck in this junkie town, completely unable to move. i've money for weed, and a completely sellable watch. god forbid that a dealer shoots me up for extra business.
*******************************************
My tears have frozen to my face. it hurts so bad, i finally physically feel how i mentally do. i dont even know how much time has passed.
after about another, i'm able to get up. i check my watch, its midnight, i decide to leave the weed and head home.
*******************************************
the train station just about sums up my view of my life. complicated. repetitive. bleak. the train comes and i get on. there are four other people in the carriage, one woman and three men. these men are drunk, and still drinking. unsurprisingly, she's right at the other . i'm in the middle. i light up a cigarette, it may be 'prohibited' , but so is the rinking. one of the men comes over. my fists clench in my pockets, i'm in great need of a medium to express how i feel to the world. my heart is racing. i never truly admitted it to myself, but i'm so scared in moments like these. all he does is ask for a cigarette, i'm so relieved i give him three, for him and his friends.
*******************************************
the woman looks in her late twenties, she's not that pretty, but i would, if offered. she looks so uncomfortable in this carriage, it perplexes me, if she fears for her safety, why doesnt she just move carriage? maybe she gets a thrill from this, she could just be in too deep. same old story, high class woman enjoys low class men. gets in too deep and cant escape from their latest thrill.
the 'lads' are talking about something they 'might' be able to get away with, they wonder if they think we'll notice. i'm on my guard , but after five minutes, i see one produce a bag of weed. i walk over to their seats and sit. before i even ask they offer. between rollers rights and other unwritten rules i manage to get five tokes from it, more than enough.
the woman has noticed, and gets off at the next station , i follow her up into the street, she doesnt notice me and walks into an alley. hell, this womans more than an idiot. i catch up with her in the middle of this alley, grab her and put my hand over her mouth. she's terrified. some would say she's in too deep. i'm short of money, so i take her purse and run back to the station. i am finally a man
*******************************************
i get the next train home. getting off, i see her. all alone and vulnerable. i want to rage at her. scream and shout. but i cant, i cant bring myself to it. i love her too much. i walk her home instead. it makes happy, but in a sad way. i was so close, but i was pushed so far.
i still feel so close. the feeling is like dropping an easy catch, feeling it fall through your fingers. but right now, with her, is the only time i've laughed today, the only time i've smiled, the only time i've been happy.
Thanks for reading.
What is it, that makes a man? Tell me please. i need to know. for some reason, i think i'm wrong. i thought i'd found the answer, but for some reason, my answer, my solution, seems incorrect. Love. love is my, answer and i stand by it. but, I must say that it has brought me nothing. Nothing! Nothing but hurt and anguish! It has created ill feeling towards my friends.
but, then again, isn't this how a man should behave? being bitter and twisted, devoid of emotion?
Now tell me what happens when the love you desire is awarded to someone else. and then, when you gain knowledge of this, why does it resonate through your head.
And how do you make it go away?
********************************************
I take a long toke on my cigarette, trying to view my life through someone else's eyes. i'd like to think they'd say something like 'sophisticated, clever, suave'. but i'm forced to re-evaluate. i am not the suave man that i'd like to be. right now, i feel like a bumbling fool. Bound away from reality by love. the comedy of life. i am the slapstick, and damn if i dont feel like it.
so, what to do? sit in lethargy about my comedic actions? No. that isn't me. but then what? what is there? some would say that i should be a man. empty myself. into what? a cup? no, its impossible to empty myself.
a second cigarette, wow, i've only ever had two in a row when i've been bored. this matter is serious.
On the fifth cigarette, i find myself despising god. This is god's fault. no break is ever cut to me, so what? i cant do anything to god. this anger against god has added to my repetoire of emotions. how manly.
********************************************
the sixth cigarette is burnt to the butt. i havent got money for another packet. i should do something. i refuse to be a lethargic mass.
********************************************
the shops. home of our convinience and greed. all this space, dedicated to suburbia. but still, its the constant reminder of my idiotic emotions. i've beaten this path so many times, out of necessity, boredom, even love.
i've nothing left, while walking, i fantasize. if i was a man, what would i do? rob a store, kill a man, all those things that seem to lack emotion. but are they really men? what goes through their minds?
i pass the pharmacy and find the park, in spite of myself, i think 'old habits die hard'. its noon. the dogs are here, being careless, playing, running about. its ironic that the sun is shining. i can barely walk. my heart feels so heavy. i sit on a convinient bench, and light my seventh cigarette.
********************************************
i should tell you what sparked my question. and why i ask such questions.
i was defeated, in life, and in love. a woman that i loved, i lost her. i dont know who i lost her to. but its certain that i lost her.
i wish i knew who it was i lost her to, i dont believe that he loves her like she should be loved.
Look at me, hating a man i dont even know, this is why love is so manly, it stirs up a fever in us, we lose our minds to it.
What was it that makes her love him? what is it that he can do?
********************************************
The eighth cigarette, i feel slightly queasy, and my heart is racing.
everything works in theory, doesnt it. even a child who's starving, their life would work in theory.
i should said something, written something, she wasn't stupid, but at least to let her know. funny how you always think of the best thing to say afterwards.
********************************************
The pen-ultimate cigarette of my packet, anger poisons my blood, putting pictures in my head. Oh fate you glorious fool, where will you lead me next? home? a train? or even in front of a speeding car?
Suddenly i'm standing, the bench is metres. i must've walked, but then, why am i still doing it? i break into a run, hoping to escape my inexplicable and unmemorable movments. i run out of the park and back into suburbia, where i collapse. i throw up nothingness and bile. too many cigarettes.
a colony of ants is next to my hand. i follow a worker, mundanely collecting leaves and other edibles. inevitably, it notices my fluids, my throw-up, tears that streamed from my once dry eyes. bile to me, food to it. this worker ant is cleaning up my mess, as it does for society every day, be it a banana skin or a half eaten bake. whats the fruit of its labour? nothing but a small amount of food, a lonely, unappreciated worker ant.
Rage consumes me again, i manage to get the ant on a reed, and put it at the top. this ant, this unappreciated ant is at my mercy. like i was at her mercy. it is up to me whether it lives, dies or suffers. it feels great inflicting this rather than receiving it.
*******************************************
What is love? wanting to screw the sexy one? no. thats lust. companionship? nope. thats what friends are for. love to me, is plain and simple. just wanting to hold and stay with that one person forever. disagree if you want, you know i'm right.
*******************************************
Ninth cigarette, i'm saving the last one. i've gone into the city, escaped from the prison we know as suburbia. the evening is coming, and as the sun begins to set, i find myself in Chinatown, still neck-deep in self-loathing and pity. i wish for a dealer, i have chip but no fish. but nothing.....maybe camden later.
i'm hungry, but with no money, what should i do? the sane me says to head home, but i cant bring myself to re-imprisonment.
*******************************************
it's eight o'clock, people are beginning to stare. i've stayed in this same spot for two hours, but i dont remember any of it. any publicity is good publicity though, thats right, i've made about fifteen pounds just standing there. i didn't realise this until i moved an inch, my depressive state changing its mind and willing me to move. Dinner is marred by the greatest headache in the history of man. i have ten pounds left, so i smoke the final cigarette i have and buy another ten-deck. i smoke another and then promise myself that i'll only have another if something significant occurs
*******************************************
nine chips but still no fish, i'm walking to camden, i'll save this money for 'food' and fare home.
this walking cleanses my soul, pictures flash across my eyes, some good, some bad. my dreams and desires are represented to me, and then my nightmares, my worst fears thrown at me, piercing me like knives in my side.
i come to my senses outside camden station, and realis a great sadness, pressing upon my chest, my face and neck dampened by tears. i'm out in public, broken, still weeping silently.
i want to be inconspicious, thank god for hoodies. i run to the loch. i've got to calm down , pull myself together. but i cant. it seems to me that there's no world without that chance i thought i had. my heads in my hands. there's a deep body of water infront of me. i'm not safe here. not as i am now.
but its happened again, like it happened in chinatown. i'm stuck. trapped in this spot, in this body.
cravings are kicking in, i cant move for the cigarette. what is this? its not right. i dont remember it in chinatown, but i remember it now. its horrifying, i'm stuck in this junkie town, completely unable to move. i've money for weed, and a completely sellable watch. god forbid that a dealer shoots me up for extra business.
*******************************************
My tears have frozen to my face. it hurts so bad, i finally physically feel how i mentally do. i dont even know how much time has passed.
after about another, i'm able to get up. i check my watch, its midnight, i decide to leave the weed and head home.
*******************************************
the train station just about sums up my view of my life. complicated. repetitive. bleak. the train comes and i get on. there are four other people in the carriage, one woman and three men. these men are drunk, and still drinking. unsurprisingly, she's right at the other . i'm in the middle. i light up a cigarette, it may be 'prohibited' , but so is the rinking. one of the men comes over. my fists clench in my pockets, i'm in great need of a medium to express how i feel to the world. my heart is racing. i never truly admitted it to myself, but i'm so scared in moments like these. all he does is ask for a cigarette, i'm so relieved i give him three, for him and his friends.
*******************************************
the woman looks in her late twenties, she's not that pretty, but i would, if offered. she looks so uncomfortable in this carriage, it perplexes me, if she fears for her safety, why doesnt she just move carriage? maybe she gets a thrill from this, she could just be in too deep. same old story, high class woman enjoys low class men. gets in too deep and cant escape from their latest thrill.
the 'lads' are talking about something they 'might' be able to get away with, they wonder if they think we'll notice. i'm on my guard , but after five minutes, i see one produce a bag of weed. i walk over to their seats and sit. before i even ask they offer. between rollers rights and other unwritten rules i manage to get five tokes from it, more than enough.
the woman has noticed, and gets off at the next station , i follow her up into the street, she doesnt notice me and walks into an alley. hell, this womans more than an idiot. i catch up with her in the middle of this alley, grab her and put my hand over her mouth. she's terrified. some would say she's in too deep. i'm short of money, so i take her purse and run back to the station. i am finally a man
*******************************************
i get the next train home. getting off, i see her. all alone and vulnerable. i want to rage at her. scream and shout. but i cant, i cant bring myself to it. i love her too much. i walk her home instead. it makes happy, but in a sad way. i was so close, but i was pushed so far.
i still feel so close. the feeling is like dropping an easy catch, feeling it fall through your fingers. but right now, with her, is the only time i've laughed today, the only time i've smiled, the only time i've been happy.
Thanks for reading.