Hey, I was just curious, seeing as how entries here have been far and few between and this community is all but practically defunct if you (the moderator) or if anyone else would object to my throwing out the line of the week?
I don't mean to offend or anything but seeing as how this community had a pretty decent run a while back and seeing as how I was recently laid off I have a crap load of time on my hands to try and sustain it. So I'll throw out a line right now and we can let it run until November 5th. If there are any objections from the moderator or anyone else then, whatever that's cool too. Just figured it would be nice to allow some people an outlet or two.
So here's a line I just ripped from Thomas De Quincey I ran across in one of his books. I figured it's open and ambiguous enough for everyone to play with to start. Ready? Steady?
I never was better in all my life. (November 2 - November 5)
Home from work my minds adrift clutching keys and memories I cluck my heels on stepping stones towards a door that only has two screws holding the top hinge but only I knew that... the sound of a distant helicopter grows mysteriously louder Once bitten twice shy i've been stung before So when i heard that dreadful buzz I ran without even verifying my fear even with a periphial glance... Froze by Roses I chanced a peek behind me YAAAHHHH! a flying buzz-saw shadow caresses my cheek and I run sideways faster than a professional football player across my front porch, tripping over garden hose(who left that there?) grabbing onto wind chimes and then crashing into a pile of left over garage sale rummage. The pain of hitting my head on that old microwave was the only thing in the whole world that stopped my panic in it's tracks. Pain had taken the place of fear so I called out to my stalker "Come and get me you stupid bug, I know i am doomed". Only to find that bugs of this kind only come out in June...
Lately I've been drifting down river, only to find the current is getting a little stronger and the water slightly deeper. Floating in the canoe staring up at the stars. Watching time drift by like the trees on shore. Occasionally a dragonfly lands and says "hello". It grabs my attention for a few moments but nothing more than flys off into its own world. The stronger current drags me into a new channel, away from the leisure that I had become accustomed to. A new expierence, something exciting. I sit up in the canoe to see where I'm being lead to. The tree line thickens abscuring my line of sight. I grab the paddle sit back and brace for whats to come, steering around logs and trees jutting out of the water. Not always gracefully, but leaving me with a feeling that I'm on the right track for the first time in a long time. I catch a glimpse of myself in the reflection of the water, only to find that I'm smiling.
This story started with that one line jogging a memory, and then the rest of the story came with it. It doesn't seem like it BUT it really was spurred on by the oneliner. Also I plan on posting it a couple different places. And I'm really not as psychotic as I seem in this story.
I'm minding my business thinking about how it's winter and how I hate it and how my feet are freezing and how the wind keeps bitch slapping me in the face everytime I turn a corner. I'm stepping off the sidewalk and crossing the street where I spot this dude standing by the Beavertail and when my feet hit the sidewalk again he asks me if I smoke weed and I tell him I don't even though I do. He starts walking with me asking me if I got change to spare for a 'hungry brutha' and I tell him I don't.
Then he sees the look in my eye that tells him I've had a bad day and he asks me if I did and its too late in the night and its not gonna make a difference to tell him that I did. Then he looks all offended and tells me but at least I have an apartment to go to and he don't have nowhere but the streets and I wonder why in the hell this guy is still talking to me and my brain goes on instinct's thought at a million miles a minute and quickly size everything up about him.
And now he's shuffling going backwards and forwards quickening and slowing his pace walking behind infront and behind again and I'm salavating at the thought that this guy's gonna try something because I want him to try something. The prospect of beating on an anonymous human being that has nothin goin and nothin doin in his life that he try to sell you drugs and then skim off you for food is making my heart beat something fierce.
An anonymous person to take the place of every mug you have to look at every day and want to tear their fucking limbs off. What with bills and deadlines and cubicles and schools and office bitches that make your life hell all it piles into one meaningless clump of shit focused on bottom lines and top dollars that right now you don't care. There couldn't be any other better place to be in the world right now cause here I am all alone with the one guy in the world who I can mould into the epitomy of anything and everything I hate and beat the living fuck out of him and no one from the civilized world would care. Cops would think it was regular underground stuff and people would protests more help for the lower classes and that would be a good thing because the hippies would be happy because the poor got money while the conservative types are just happy that there's at least one more dead and not on the streets and in the end everyone is happy.
And just as quickly as the thought comes and the rush starts to invade my body he's crossing the street mumbling something I can't make out and all the fire that had instantly been built inside me is quickly quelled to a low simmer where I'm forced to hold it in for another day.: