afriendsfriend
04-06-2014, 05:14 PM
Hey!
Whats up, I'm new here. This is my first post. I´d really like good hard and honest opinions on this story I wrote yesterday. Thanks in advance!
Why I Did It
I stood motionless, frozen, in shock and awe; starring incredulously at the falling miniscule glittering bodies of water that, within them looped the tragic melody to whence they were the product. Tears, the essence of the griever, inexorably fell over every instance portrayed as time, representing in such poetic ways the downfall and emotional rain of introverted hatred. They dropped melancholically under every desperate circumstance, lived and waiting to be so.
Yet, so sublime but far too strong came into me a strange sense of a single connection, -a single whole. The moment was an everlasting shift of thoughts bouncing off one another, exploding into contrasts and forming ides, concepts, -realities.
I realized then that the brain, functioning as the interpreter, has the overwhelming need to comprehend the suffered encounters and transform them into reasonable accounts through an image that it is only ever mirroring back to itself.
Never ending the infinite…
Tis’ the theater of a perceptive puppet show acted out by untethered shadows counting their steps. Counting what they haven’t even taken, -nor ever will.
“Curiously undefined definitions of nature aren’t natural at all,” he says, giving a brief pause to his story. He calmly swallows the gathered saliva, and then continues.
They are a necessity.
Up to that point my days would turn to nights without turning much of anything but myself. I’d given my back to anything worthy of importance and joined along in the choir, where everyone is merrily masturbating to the chorus of their own ingrown reflection. Together we sang away the silence and made a sound of our own.
“Now, what is a truth that has no veracity to tell?” He excitedly asks, stirring in them only a dull, confused expression.
“Please, continue…” Is the only response obtained.
“Yes, we are ugly!” He begins, raising his voice violently. “Yes, we are foul!” Raising his hands next. The men shaken by the sudden change turn hostile in response.
“Calm down now, there’s no need to get all worked up,” begins the first, and almost immediately follows the other.
“Let’s not allow for things to get outta hand, ok?”
And, with somewhat of an annoyed tone of voice, he keeps on with his story, only after giving them a stern look of disapproval; as if the ones at fault had been them for not understanding the simple subject at hand.
“God, I could see it then, us, the corrupt. Bleeding into each other, merging. The disgusting weakness so well disguised.” He sours his expression, almost as if he is to vomit. “All of it. I could see it all.”
“****, it was an incredible sensation. You should try it sometime, you might enjoy it. Might help you see things my way,” he says, grinning under wild eyes.
“Here we go… You gonna wrap this up or what?” Asks the detective, getting up off his chair, stretching his legs after the yawn he finished his sentence with.
“Sure, -of course,” he responds ominously, looking deep into their eyes as he restrains himself from movement, seemingly altered by the response and by their inability to relate.
“We live and we die, what ****ing difference does it make?” He looks around.
“What I did is just another hot news report, a tragic story, a shameful loss.” He smiles again with that last part, takes a deep elegant breath through the nose and sits up right before proceeding.
So, maybe some of us remain, but only as ink spread far and wide over so many millions and millions of pages throughout the globe. Written memories of what once was in the theoretical foundry set aloft by the engineering creativity of an intuitive self-conscious reflection of being.
In being we bring but the basics…
Never the more…
The detectives look at each other disappointed.
More overflows…
They take only a second to confirm each other’s thoughts on concluding the fruitless interview.
“In low light we shine,” he proposes, beginning his grand finale. “In darkness we simmer.”
“Alright,” says one of the two.
“In plain light we’re seen...” He attempts before being interrupted.
“We’ve heard enough,” says the one still sitting as he rises to join his partner at the door.
“Fact is, you’re going to prison. You’re going to be locked up long enough to keep me sleeping nice and sound. These were your few precious minutes of fame, and you just wasted them. I don’t really give a **** why you suddenly decided to shoot up a gas station filled with civilians.” He took a pause to emphasize. “Hell, I couldn’t care less if the devil told you to do it!”
“If you ask me,” began the other. “It sounds like an acid trip too many for you, fella.”
They both spare no more time and leave the room without a single word more, leaving the interrupted suspect alone to finish his sentence in the presence of no one’s ears but his own.
“-We’re seen to be ugly and foul.”
He smiles.
Whats up, I'm new here. This is my first post. I´d really like good hard and honest opinions on this story I wrote yesterday. Thanks in advance!
Why I Did It
I stood motionless, frozen, in shock and awe; starring incredulously at the falling miniscule glittering bodies of water that, within them looped the tragic melody to whence they were the product. Tears, the essence of the griever, inexorably fell over every instance portrayed as time, representing in such poetic ways the downfall and emotional rain of introverted hatred. They dropped melancholically under every desperate circumstance, lived and waiting to be so.
Yet, so sublime but far too strong came into me a strange sense of a single connection, -a single whole. The moment was an everlasting shift of thoughts bouncing off one another, exploding into contrasts and forming ides, concepts, -realities.
I realized then that the brain, functioning as the interpreter, has the overwhelming need to comprehend the suffered encounters and transform them into reasonable accounts through an image that it is only ever mirroring back to itself.
Never ending the infinite…
Tis’ the theater of a perceptive puppet show acted out by untethered shadows counting their steps. Counting what they haven’t even taken, -nor ever will.
“Curiously undefined definitions of nature aren’t natural at all,” he says, giving a brief pause to his story. He calmly swallows the gathered saliva, and then continues.
They are a necessity.
Up to that point my days would turn to nights without turning much of anything but myself. I’d given my back to anything worthy of importance and joined along in the choir, where everyone is merrily masturbating to the chorus of their own ingrown reflection. Together we sang away the silence and made a sound of our own.
“Now, what is a truth that has no veracity to tell?” He excitedly asks, stirring in them only a dull, confused expression.
“Please, continue…” Is the only response obtained.
“Yes, we are ugly!” He begins, raising his voice violently. “Yes, we are foul!” Raising his hands next. The men shaken by the sudden change turn hostile in response.
“Calm down now, there’s no need to get all worked up,” begins the first, and almost immediately follows the other.
“Let’s not allow for things to get outta hand, ok?”
And, with somewhat of an annoyed tone of voice, he keeps on with his story, only after giving them a stern look of disapproval; as if the ones at fault had been them for not understanding the simple subject at hand.
“God, I could see it then, us, the corrupt. Bleeding into each other, merging. The disgusting weakness so well disguised.” He sours his expression, almost as if he is to vomit. “All of it. I could see it all.”
“****, it was an incredible sensation. You should try it sometime, you might enjoy it. Might help you see things my way,” he says, grinning under wild eyes.
“Here we go… You gonna wrap this up or what?” Asks the detective, getting up off his chair, stretching his legs after the yawn he finished his sentence with.
“Sure, -of course,” he responds ominously, looking deep into their eyes as he restrains himself from movement, seemingly altered by the response and by their inability to relate.
“We live and we die, what ****ing difference does it make?” He looks around.
“What I did is just another hot news report, a tragic story, a shameful loss.” He smiles again with that last part, takes a deep elegant breath through the nose and sits up right before proceeding.
So, maybe some of us remain, but only as ink spread far and wide over so many millions and millions of pages throughout the globe. Written memories of what once was in the theoretical foundry set aloft by the engineering creativity of an intuitive self-conscious reflection of being.
In being we bring but the basics…
Never the more…
The detectives look at each other disappointed.
More overflows…
They take only a second to confirm each other’s thoughts on concluding the fruitless interview.
“In low light we shine,” he proposes, beginning his grand finale. “In darkness we simmer.”
“Alright,” says one of the two.
“In plain light we’re seen...” He attempts before being interrupted.
“We’ve heard enough,” says the one still sitting as he rises to join his partner at the door.
“Fact is, you’re going to prison. You’re going to be locked up long enough to keep me sleeping nice and sound. These were your few precious minutes of fame, and you just wasted them. I don’t really give a **** why you suddenly decided to shoot up a gas station filled with civilians.” He took a pause to emphasize. “Hell, I couldn’t care less if the devil told you to do it!”
“If you ask me,” began the other. “It sounds like an acid trip too many for you, fella.”
They both spare no more time and leave the room without a single word more, leaving the interrupted suspect alone to finish his sentence in the presence of no one’s ears but his own.
“-We’re seen to be ugly and foul.”
He smiles.