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On the Order of Matters (or. Of the Matters on Order)

Started by Elven Doritos, September 10, 2008, 04:01:18 PM

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Elven Doritos

September 10, 2008, 04:01:18 PM Last Edit: September 11, 2008, 10:07:52 AM by Doritos Elven
I'm sliding through time diagonally, the listless whips of sense lashing across my scalp. White flashes of tomorrow blur against the memories of last year, and I walk two months into the past as I enter the door. I remember where I left my hat just in time to purchase it, and after I've lost it I begin to search, even still knowing where it is. I live these moments as though pasted from a reel of different films, each jumping and cutting themselves as the show continues. My audience is puzzled, but I cannot change my actions for fear of damaging the fourth wall. The only one still standing.
   
I'm in the fortune-teller's tent, watching intently as she shuffles my life up and puts the cards upon the table. The order doesn't matter; she forms a narrative no matter how they're drawn. She offers a reading as I enter her tent.
   
I was reading Nietzsche at the time, as I stood and made my way to the cafeteria. Schoolboys always were such petulant creatures, but I did my best to ignore them. Perhaps if I had heard their whispers I would have strayed my course, but only after passing their table did I know their true thoughts. I spoke with them yesterday on the matter, I knew they didn't like me. I decided then to go to the cafeteria. In a few minutes, I would walk by their table and hear them speak, and I could only guess what they would say.
   
 I begin writing a story that I finished two years ago. I leave the middle until next January, even though it is to be published tomorrow. The plot finishes before the characters are introduced, and the sentences begin after the exhaustion of English words. Entire paragraphs go missing, deciding to go on vacation for the summer.
   
Atlas stands at the center of the classroom, offering me the world. I politely refuse before the question is asked, and again three weeks after. It isn't as much trepidation as it is apathy, and I now embody the American spirit of nothingness.
   
Alone I stand in the grove at midnight. A beautiful woman with a heart as cold as ice, the temptress Lilith, has just left me hours ago for the final time. I will meet her for the first time next Tuesday, and her tongue will slither into my ear. I will be happy, but I won't be honest. She is beside me, her wispy voice and sultry glower my constant companion. She never showed for our date.
   
So I took another pair of eyes out of my pocket; these belong to Oedipus. I meet with Narcissus on the open highway, we've been friends for years but this is the first time we've met. I walk with him to the beach, where things explode angrily. The tranquil water calms my mind, but I can't help but notice how agitated Narcissus has become. He's met Lilith and the two are together. Perhaps I'll tell her that tomorrow when she and I are introduced. I laugh and invite Narcissus to my home as I vow to never speak to him again.
   
The clang of metal against my forehead brings an undecided pain. Third grade wasn't supposed to be this hard, and really, it wasn't. Nobody in the class likes me so much, it's because I'm smarter than they are. The following statement isn't so much out of ego as it is out of observable fact; I'm not trying to praise my intelligence. I'm a fool, scarred and wounded by the bully's rage. I never trust anyone again as I extend my hand in friendship.
   
Delilah cuts my coif and with it saps my potency. Call me Samson, Achilles, or Odysseus if you must. Ulysses S. Grant orders his troops to fire as the war comes to an end. I'm at my grandfather's funeral as I'm planning my own eulogy. I'll be born any minute.
   
Buried beneath the Earth, I'm scrambling and squawking and breathing and laughing. Nobody thinks much of it, I've immolated my personality with a bottle of beer. They like me, they really like me. I'm doing hard labor and I'm sickened by the thought of alcohol. I swear I'll never touch the stuff.
   
I'm walking backwards onto a treadmill. I'm happy with how I look and who I am. I'll never be happy with myself; I have to have others like me to like myself. I'm a little child who doesn't have a care, trapped inside the body of a madman who needs approval.
   
I'm a three-year old standing in a college classroom seat, and I'm intently ignoring a discussion on Picasso. I see all the perspectives at once, tangled up in blue, and Bob Dylan sings on tour. I never really liked Bob Dylan that much, and I think he's a great musician and I've bought his CDs. I don't really see the point of a Humanities class, and I'll never use any other class more than it. It's the least important thing to completely change my life.
   
The fortune-teller whispers to Delilah a warning as Narcissus stabs me in the back. Call him Judas or Benedict or Brutus if you must. Misplaced loyalties to the advancement of self are his calling card, and the fortune-teller puts the card upon the table and shuffles him into the deck.
   
I drop my pen as words flood my page. I suppose it's time to start writing.    
Oh, how we danced and we swallowed the night
For it was all ripe for dreaming
Oh, how we danced away all of the lights
We've always been out of our minds
-Tom Waits, Rain Dogs

Elven Doritos

#3
September 10, 2008, 08:29:41 PM
I had a feeling it would be to your sensibilities, for some strange reason...
Oh, how we danced and we swallowed the night
For it was all ripe for dreaming
Oh, how we danced away all of the lights
We've always been out of our minds
-Tom Waits, Rain Dogs

Epic Meepo

#4
September 11, 2008, 01:05:51 AM
:explode:

That was awesome!
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Ishmayl-Retired

#5
September 11, 2008, 10:01:07 AM
Very interesting.  The opening line in particular had me hooked, and then this paragraph:

QuoteSo I took another pair of eyes out of my pocket; these belong to Oedipus. I meet with Narcissus on the open highway, we've been friends for years but this is the first time we've met. I walk with him to the beach, where things explode angrily. The tranquil water calms my mind, but I can't help but notice how agitated Narcissus has become. He's met Lilith and the two are together. Perhaps I'll tell her that tomorrow when she and I are introduced. I laugh and invite Narcissus to my home as I vow to never speak to him again.
they[/b]?"  I'm never really sure on the they vs. them argument, but the curiosity arose, and I thought with a writer in the midst, now would be an appropriate time to ask. :)
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