Saturday, December 6, 2008

Misunderstood (Retard continued)

“You’re right. I don’t understand what you’re talking about. Why the hell would you want to move out into the middle of nowhere?”

“I don’t like my life here.”

“Then why did you spend the last ten years working for it?”

“Exactly.”

“I swear to God the longer I know you the less sense you make.” She grabbed her coat. “Are you ready to go?”

“It’s going to be exactly the same as last year.”

“You’re always saying how lonely you are. Now’s your chance to be around people.”

He held back from telling her that it was when he was with people that he felt the most alone, because that’s when he felt the least understood. He had tried to explain it to her several times before.

“Fine.” She slammed the door behind her.

He took off his tie and sat down. The dog came up beside him with her ears cautiously down. He looked down at her and patted her head.

“It’s okay retard, mommy still loves you, she’s just mad at me.”

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Bored (Retard continued)

People thought he stopped talking because she left, but in reality she left because he stopped talking.

He threw the ball across the yard and the dog raced it down and snatched it up without breaking stride. She ran back with it, pretending to return it to him, but changing her mind and running away with it, as she always did.

“I don’t feel like chasing you down today.”

He turned away from her and looked out over the fence at the falling sun. She came up behind him and placed the ball in his hand that hung at his side. He turned back towards her and looked at the ball, rolling it through his fingers while thinking something else.

“Don’t you ever get bored of doing the same thing?”

He threw the ball and then turned and walked across the fallen leaves, looking down and noticing how they crunched under his feet. He sat down in a chair under a tree and just stared into nothingness. The dog returned with the ball, and when he ignored her she rested her chin on his knee. He petted her pointy ears downward and did a stupid doggie voice.

“You’re such a retard aren’t you? Are you trying to cheer me up with that retarded expression on your face?”

He took the ball from her.

“I’ll bet you could chase this ball forever and never get tired of it. But I can’t throw it forever.”

He stood up.

“Fine one more time”

He sat back down and watched as she chased the ball down once again.

“I wish I was a retard.”

Thursday, November 6, 2008

Smile

She stared at the clouds. They did seem different. In this city everything seemed different. For a while. But the affect soon wore off. And she realized they are the same clouds, the same sky, the same ground, the same people no matter where she went.

She noticed that she had always smiled in her pictures, and she wondered if the smile was real or if it was just a reflex. She wouldn’t say she was unhappy, and if she did she would never be able to pinpoint the cause of it. She just had a vague feeling that something was missing, and that it was to be found somewhere out there.

When she was young she used to stare at the clouds for hours. People would ask her why and at the time she couldn’t answer. But now she knew that even then she was looking for something. And she thought it might be found in the clouds. But after she had stared long enough the clouds, once magical, turned into nothing more than geometrical shapes, white fluffy vapor. So she looked elsewhere. Life, people, books, her own mind. And when she had exhausted everything that was around her, she left, thinking it would be different somewhere else. But the clouds were the same everywhere she went.

She wasn’t sure where else to look, but she believed that she would eventually find what she was looking for. It was this belief, and this belief alone, that made her smile genuine.

The Collapse

It would be the second time his world fell out from under him. The first time was when he was still a child, and he realized everything his parents raised him to believe was bullshit. He vowed then never again to be so gullible, never to look for anything but the truth, never to prematurely integrate anything into his belief system, never to be wrong.

He questioned everything. So it was only a matter of time before he got around to questioning whether or not he should be questioning everything, whether or not there wasn’t a better way to live life than to always be searching, whether or not he was missing out on what life was really about. If he died today, what good would his search have been?

His first reaction was to leave a record. He began furiously writing his every thought. The pages added up. The days went by. Months, without seeing anyone or doing anything. He looked at the giant mess of words that had accumulated, and he felt no closer to accomplishing anything. So when he ran into an old friend from high school who invited him to a party, he thought that a return to civilization might give him some perspective.

The party was full of people who the unpolitically correct would call white trash, and at first he thought he had made a huge mistake. But he soon found that no one treated him like the outsider he was. They all laughed and smiled, even when the conversation took an unexpected turn and he found himself refuting the claim that the lesser of two evils in the current political campaigns was not a Muslim. Even when he explained to them why he refuses to pledge allegiance to the flag, they offered him another drink, and despite all their differences they bonded over their commonalities, they both distrusted the government and enjoyed far fetched speculation that most would call conspiracy theories. And by the end of the night he realized that with all his thinking, all the time he had spent in his life trying to discern the truth, he was not much smarter than any of these people. His world had been slowly slipping, and now it suddenly collapsed.

“I’ve been to harsh a judge of people. And I’ve driven myself mad thinking that they would judge me in the same manner. My life up until now has been a waste.”

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

The Dentist

It started as just a passing thought. Everyone knows what teeth are for, she thought, but do they realize what it means to have them.

It began as a subtle observation “We’re just like animals”, but soon it became “My God, we’re just animals” and eventually “We’re a bunch of disgusting animals.”

“I didn’t sign up to be a veterinarian. I can’t stand looking at these animals all day long. The bleeding, the decay, the stench. How disgusting that we have these hardened mineral deposits in our mouth, used to break down other organisms, suck out the nutrients, and pass the rest out as… Oh, God it’s sickening.”

She found herself looking in the mirror differently, as if she wasn’t human but instead an alien observing a new species for the first time. How strange it suddenly seemed that there was a nose in the middle of her face, and a slimy cavity below it. She had always thought of eyes as beautiful, the windows to the soul, but somehow only now did she even realize that eyeballs were in fact balls, glassy orbs floating in mucous, packed in meat, protected by calcium. When she looked at people she could no longer see their eyes without seeing the entire sphere that the skin is supposed to hide.

She soon found herself carefully examining every movement of every one of her body parts.
At first she was able to leave it at the office. Next thing she knew she was on the sidewalk frightened at this herd of animals moving towards her, around her, engulfing her. “They’re everywhere, big stupid unaware animals. How did this happen? I didn’t want to see any of this. Is this is the price we pay to know? To see the world as it truly is?”

Sunday, November 2, 2008

Silly Boy

"You silly boy."

"Quit calling me a boy you're barely two years older than me."

"Ok, silly man. Whatever you like."

She sat down on the bed and yanked him in by the waste of his pants, but he pulled away.

"Stop. I’m dead serious. We should get out of here now."

"Ok, if you don’t want, why you here?"

"Not why am I here, why are you here? I know you don’t want to be doing this…"

"Stop. Stop. You go. You go now."

She got up and started to escort him out.

"No wait. Wait. I just want to talk."

"I no get paid to talk."

"Well it’s my money and my time, so what do you care if I want to spend it talking."

"Fine. Stupid boy want to waste money."

She put her robe back on and walked over to the dresser to light a cigarette. Then she sat down on the bed, crossed her legs, and stared at the boy. The boy took off his hat and ran his hand through his hair.

"Look, I know why you’re here."

"Apparently no."

"I know how you got this cut on the back on back of your leg."

He suddenly reached for her leg, but she was startled and slapped his hand away.

"You say you no want. You crazy boy."

"I don’t. I’m sorry. I just want to show you something. Will you stand up. Please."

"Ok, what you do now crazy boy?"

"See this here. This scar. How did you get it?"

"Crazy, stupid boy. Why you want know?"

"I already know. Some guy did it to you when he was forcing you into this. I saw a thing about it on TV."

She sat back down on the bed and looked at him like he was an idiot.

"I have since I was kid. From doctor."

He hesitated for a moment.

"Look, I think I started out wrong. Can I have one of your cigarettes?"

Without breaking her annoyed stare she grabbed the pack and held it out, then lazily handed him the lighter as he sat on the bed.

"300 U.S. for smoke."

He coughed as he took a puff and she giggled and looked away, speaking to herself in Russian.

"Huh, what’d you say?"

"First time smoke too."

"No, it’s not my first time. I’m just not used to these. So are you from here?"

"No."

"Where are you from?"

She pointed. “That way, very far.”

"So what brought you here?"

She mumbled something in Russian after every question.

"Money."

"And how did you come to be doing this."

"I come. I do this. How you come do this?"

"Well, I saw your movie. Then I wanted to come so I bought a ticket… Well first I had to save money… at McDonalds… "

"McDonalds? What are saying crazy boy?"

"I don’t know. I came here because I wanted to save you."

"Save me? From what?"

"From doing something you don’t want to do."

"How you know what I want to do?"

"Well, no one wants to do what you do."

She blew out smoke and did not respond.

"What are you thinking?"

She pointed at the clock with her eyes.

"I think you waste most your time. But young boy, you can still finish good."

Saturday, November 1, 2008

Retard

He didn't hate life. He was in awe of it. Of the endless possibilities. What bothered him was that he had lived it all wrong up to this point, and he couldn't see a way to change it after living this way for so long.

He ran at the soccer ball and kicked it as hard as he could, and watched as the dog chased it down and began to bite it and paw at it. Normally he would run over and take the ball from her and dribble it along the grass until they were in a standoff once again, and then boot it across to the other side of the yard, but he just stood there and then looked down at the ground.

He walked to the stool and sat down and looked at the dead fruits collected on the barbecue, an attempt to extend the life of his lawnmower. He picked one up and stared at it. He had never figured out what kind of fruit it was and he didn't particularly care. He just sat there thinking about the same thing he always did. It didn't make sense to him how he was sitting there next to a barbeque in a backyard holding a dead fruit. He had similar thoughts before but this time it was different. This time he was sure. He picked up a basketball and dribbled towards the lawn, and the dog came running in to play. He did some fancy moves to keep the dog from getting the ball and she eventually backed away, waiting for him to throw it.

"Come on retard come get the ball." But she just waited. "Alright"

He let the ball drop from his hand and it rolled across the patio. The dog stared confused for a second then trotted after the ball and gave it a half-hearted paw, but she knew he wasn't going to play. He walked to the door and opened it.

"Come on retard, let's go inside."

The dog waited, confused at the brevity of their playtime.

"Let's go retard. Inside."

She trotted in, panting and still wanting to play, but he just sat down and petted her.

"You're a good dog."

He was always afraid of leaving her alone. Maybe that's the only reason he had put it off for so long. But now he figured she would be better off with whoever found her. Hopefully someone who would kick the ball because they enjoyed it, instead of just going through the motions because he knew it made her happy.

He propped the backdoor open so she could get in and out. He left the faucet dripping so he knew she had water and dumped the whole bag of dog food onto her bowl engulfing it. He walked into the bathroom, started the water, and shut the door.

When he first saw the red, he was struck with thoughts that maybe he was making a mistake. He remembered how she would get in the trash if he left her alone for too long, and how she would then lay on her stomach with her ears down staring up at him with a sad face, as if she was the victim because you wouldn't play with her all day long. He wondered how long she might lay like that right outside the door until she realized he wasn't coming out. And he worried that whoever eventually found her would find trash all over the place and thought maybe he should put this off until another day, when he'd remember to take out the trash first. But then he began to relax, and he was glad that he knew it would be over soon.

The last thing he heard was her pawing at the door.

The last thing he thought was "I hope Retard will be alright."

Double Hockey Sticks

It knew everything. At least everything It knew it could know. It had known for a millions of years that it could reverse time, but once the process had begun it would continue all the way until the beginning. It had hoped that there would be another solution, but as the end drew nearer and nearer, it knew this would not be the case. Soon It would not have enough energy to reverse time. Then It would slowly lose it’s ability to think. Then It would die. And each atom would eventually disintegrate into radiation. And nothing would exist for eternity.

It wondered if this existence was worth living. It calculated the happiness and sadness of all beings from beginning to end, figuring that if the net value was positive the decision would be automatic. But It discovered, to it’s dismay, that there was far more sadness than happiness. It’s antecedents used to rationalize pain, suffering, and all else that is bad by saying that it was necessary for the existence of what is good. But it now seemed that the opposite was true. Happiness seemed to only exist in it’s most minimal quantities to juxtapose against sadness.

It hoped by reversing time the next generation would discover another way out. It worried that the next generation would not be a new generation at all but would simply be the same one doing the same things. This bothered It immensely, but it could not let itself die. It could not stand the idea of there being nothing forever. It figured it would delay the responsibility until next time.

That is how it came to be that It would find itself making the same decision every 100 trillion years. An eternal cycle of pain and suffering. It’s antecedents had a name for this.

Thursday, October 30, 2008

Change

You think that I’m down here because I’m lazy. You think you’re up there because you’re not. You don’t see what I see. I see what’s wrong with people. I see what’s wrong with myself. I’ve seen my life a million different ways. A million different endings. Only they aren’t really different. All endings are the same. I’ve seen the world as it really is. I’ve seen the beginning and the end of everything. The trickle, the explosion, then the slow decay into nothingness. I know why it all happens. I know that what you do doesn’t matter. You can keep your goddamn change, I don’t want it.

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Pole

What will I do when my legs go?

She was always running late. And on the rare occasion when she arrived early she always found herself looking in the mirror and thinking too much.

You do what you can until you can’t do it anymore. That was how she always rationalized it. It’s not fair. We have a few years, then tossed aside to rot. What’s left? Thinking about the way things used to be. Having kids and watching them go through the same exact bullshit.

The so called best years of my life are almost over. But what was so good about them? Ruined by jealousy and competitiveness. Battling to the top, knowing it won’t last. All day I worry about my weight, about my hair, about my clothes, about whether or not I’ll be able to impress some asshole that will only be in my life for a short while. You paint yourself up like a goddamn clown, you spend hours at the gym, you watch for fashion trends, music trends, word trends, any trend you can find. You have to fit in. You have to climb as high as you can. But for what?

Beauty is a curse. Girls hate you for it. Guys want you for it, and only it. How much longer can I hide these wrinkles forming under my eyes? How much longer can I keep these dimples from forming on the back of my thighs? How much longer until I’m that girl who gets passed by. When you’re young everyone wants to fuck you. Then you get old and you’re fucked.

But today you still have your legs. You do what you can until you can’t do it anymore. Cheer up. It’s your time to shine.