Post by Jack of Blades on Jul 30, 2006 9:00:31 GMT -5
"Remember: I am he as you are he as you are me. And we don't need an acid trip to recognise that. Just a trip outside with all those monkeys screaming 'evolution' while purchasing Calvin Klein scrotum-sacks and coating themselves in the lies provided by their regional newspaper."
I stare at what's there in the mirror. It's me, talking. And I don't mean one of those fantasies where your reflection takes on a life of it's own to reflect a seperate personality. It moves the same as I and records myself saying those words.
"Don't be rediculous. I'm only saying these things so I can ease you into this. It's you talking and saying all this. We are the same. I'm not some entity waiting to take over."
An inversion of the personality, not a seperate one.
"Oh, I had to know this was coming. I went out there and tried to mix with the animals but in the end, you just furthered your conceit. But kudos is due, I did manage to convert a prissy secretary into a nympomaniac sex kitten."
I hear the front door unlock. Jake's back from the golfing lodge, bringing home the kinky widower he's been seeing.
"Great. I'm in admist a psychotic epiphany and the savant arrives home with whatever dog, he's retrieved from the pound. And stop telling myself to shut up. Just because you don't want to hear the capital truth. And it is this. The real funny part is that despite all your attempts to be normal in the 'real' world: the job, the girl, the appartment, you've come to realisation that you were the most normal thing about it. The caricature shadows of the WCF were more honest than anything you've found. Now, does that just make me want to let out a hearty laugh?"
I drive my skull into the mirrored cabinet. It doesn't stop the laughter. I peer into the fragmented glass as the blood runs down my face changing frown into smile. The burning bile forces its way upwards transforming into the hideous, sonorous laughter. Jack is back.
The door opens behind me. It's Jake's 'chica'. Obviously up to their midday sexcapades, she's wearing a trench-coat. She apologises for thinking there was no one in here before realising the bleeding on my face. She rushes me in concern. The clenched fist connects with her jaw forcing her to twist and pivot and the air and land on the tiled linoleum with a pleasant impact. I kneel down to the forty-year old teenager desperately trying to attach herself to some youthful ideal.
"I never considered Juliet to be an aged hag with a double mortgage and three pre-teen children. Oh well, at the very least, Iago has re-entered the scene."
I undo the trenchcoat bringing her semi-naked body into sight. She was wearing lace lingerie and would probably be doing so to excite Jake. Not that the lounge parasite needed excitement. Any man who describes a jar of nutella as 'hot' needs to be castrated. May as well do it now.
I route around in her handbag and find her compact mirror. Making a navy seal proud, I use it with another mirror fragment to peer around the corner and spot Jake tied to the bed, shirt-off, blindfolded and waiting for the floored hag to mount him. I dispose of the compact but carry the jagged fragment with me.
He hears me step into the room. He gets excited believing his treat is finally arrived. I stroke his furry chest to further his anticipation.
"That feels good."
I raise the glass shard above his mouth waiting to make the cheshire cat incision.
"Smile for me then."
After carving the bloody smile, I use the card I was left to call Jesper. He tells me he'll arrive in a few minutes with everything I asked. Jake had passed out after the glass had moved two inches away from his dimples much to my disappointment. The first time I get in bed with him and he falls asleep after making him smile. Not good for Jake's reputation.
Bored, I raise my lighter to the sprinklers causing a pseudo-profound rain to fall around the complex. Alarms screech into action, families run to the assembly point, and the fallen water washes away any sort of human consideration. Chaos had been restored.
I move to the corridor but am dragged backwards by her. Still tearful, she says she heard screaming and asks if I'm ok. I pull her towards me and whisper the truth in her ear.
"You heard screaming. That's strange I didn't. Despite all I tried, I couldn't find you a bit attractive. Weirdness is only secondary to ordinariness, and you, my dear, can tick both of those categories. Now, let me cheer you up. What do you tell a woman with two black-eyes? Nothing that you haven't told her twice already."
I shove her backwards and walk away in the opposite direction to those avoiding the imaginary fire. By the time, I arrive outside the black limozine is already in juxtaposition with the venerable dodges rusting their way out of the insurance. The door opens and the familiar reliability that is Jesper greets me. I park myself on the leather seat as I drive away from any degrees of normalcy.
"Stop, carriage" I cry, a mile or so into the journey.
Second thoughts about rejecting averageness. Do I want to return to the life of Jack Blaine Nolan? Get a wife, spawn a few children, buy a condo, be placed in a retirement home. I leave the vehicle as I hear a hidden voice from the limozine's other end ask Jesper where I was going. It wasn't the driver. He was too busy listening to the radio in the hope his lottery numbers come up. And I'm sure when they do, he'll be instantly forced into an epic car crash forcing the universe into balance again.
I move from the limozine to my target. He looks at me with an odd sense of recognition and asks what it will be:
"One gellato, Gepeto."
--------------------------------------------------------------
[glow=red,2,300]Boom![/glow]
I stare at what's there in the mirror. It's me, talking. And I don't mean one of those fantasies where your reflection takes on a life of it's own to reflect a seperate personality. It moves the same as I and records myself saying those words.
"Don't be rediculous. I'm only saying these things so I can ease you into this. It's you talking and saying all this. We are the same. I'm not some entity waiting to take over."
An inversion of the personality, not a seperate one.
"Oh, I had to know this was coming. I went out there and tried to mix with the animals but in the end, you just furthered your conceit. But kudos is due, I did manage to convert a prissy secretary into a nympomaniac sex kitten."
I hear the front door unlock. Jake's back from the golfing lodge, bringing home the kinky widower he's been seeing.
"Great. I'm in admist a psychotic epiphany and the savant arrives home with whatever dog, he's retrieved from the pound. And stop telling myself to shut up. Just because you don't want to hear the capital truth. And it is this. The real funny part is that despite all your attempts to be normal in the 'real' world: the job, the girl, the appartment, you've come to realisation that you were the most normal thing about it. The caricature shadows of the WCF were more honest than anything you've found. Now, does that just make me want to let out a hearty laugh?"
I drive my skull into the mirrored cabinet. It doesn't stop the laughter. I peer into the fragmented glass as the blood runs down my face changing frown into smile. The burning bile forces its way upwards transforming into the hideous, sonorous laughter. Jack is back.
The door opens behind me. It's Jake's 'chica'. Obviously up to their midday sexcapades, she's wearing a trench-coat. She apologises for thinking there was no one in here before realising the bleeding on my face. She rushes me in concern. The clenched fist connects with her jaw forcing her to twist and pivot and the air and land on the tiled linoleum with a pleasant impact. I kneel down to the forty-year old teenager desperately trying to attach herself to some youthful ideal.
"I never considered Juliet to be an aged hag with a double mortgage and three pre-teen children. Oh well, at the very least, Iago has re-entered the scene."
I undo the trenchcoat bringing her semi-naked body into sight. She was wearing lace lingerie and would probably be doing so to excite Jake. Not that the lounge parasite needed excitement. Any man who describes a jar of nutella as 'hot' needs to be castrated. May as well do it now.
I route around in her handbag and find her compact mirror. Making a navy seal proud, I use it with another mirror fragment to peer around the corner and spot Jake tied to the bed, shirt-off, blindfolded and waiting for the floored hag to mount him. I dispose of the compact but carry the jagged fragment with me.
He hears me step into the room. He gets excited believing his treat is finally arrived. I stroke his furry chest to further his anticipation.
"That feels good."
I raise the glass shard above his mouth waiting to make the cheshire cat incision.
"Smile for me then."
After carving the bloody smile, I use the card I was left to call Jesper. He tells me he'll arrive in a few minutes with everything I asked. Jake had passed out after the glass had moved two inches away from his dimples much to my disappointment. The first time I get in bed with him and he falls asleep after making him smile. Not good for Jake's reputation.
Bored, I raise my lighter to the sprinklers causing a pseudo-profound rain to fall around the complex. Alarms screech into action, families run to the assembly point, and the fallen water washes away any sort of human consideration. Chaos had been restored.
I move to the corridor but am dragged backwards by her. Still tearful, she says she heard screaming and asks if I'm ok. I pull her towards me and whisper the truth in her ear.
"You heard screaming. That's strange I didn't. Despite all I tried, I couldn't find you a bit attractive. Weirdness is only secondary to ordinariness, and you, my dear, can tick both of those categories. Now, let me cheer you up. What do you tell a woman with two black-eyes? Nothing that you haven't told her twice already."
I shove her backwards and walk away in the opposite direction to those avoiding the imaginary fire. By the time, I arrive outside the black limozine is already in juxtaposition with the venerable dodges rusting their way out of the insurance. The door opens and the familiar reliability that is Jesper greets me. I park myself on the leather seat as I drive away from any degrees of normalcy.
"Stop, carriage" I cry, a mile or so into the journey.
Second thoughts about rejecting averageness. Do I want to return to the life of Jack Blaine Nolan? Get a wife, spawn a few children, buy a condo, be placed in a retirement home. I leave the vehicle as I hear a hidden voice from the limozine's other end ask Jesper where I was going. It wasn't the driver. He was too busy listening to the radio in the hope his lottery numbers come up. And I'm sure when they do, he'll be instantly forced into an epic car crash forcing the universe into balance again.
I move from the limozine to my target. He looks at me with an odd sense of recognition and asks what it will be:
"One gellato, Gepeto."
--------------------------------------------------------------
[glow=red,2,300]Boom![/glow]
