it's back again

[Sepia]

Standing alone is an old man, time would kill itself and unravel the universe trying to give him an age and the dormant monsters of r'lyeh itself would choke on human livers trying to find out how he managed to come back from the dead. Standing alone is an old man, many people know of him and all of them think him as a fiction. Some people believe him to be real but seeing as they are mad like renfield was mad they hold no real value in this world of values. Standing alone is an old man, thinking about these things. He smiles and it gives him an advantage he thinks seeing as he is the only one to think on this planet. Standing alone is an old man, starting to walk away now, picking up his books and his scrolls. He leaves the wand for a child to play with and be tormented about.

His eyes are jetblack glass and no carrion would ever try to crawl on him. He's an old man, older than time itself and with a position that would rival the position of the most ancient of gods. However, he has sway over only one domain and that is dream. he cannot be perceived as anything but a toddlers gibberish in the waking world and is seen upon as something not real as he is only seen in the dreams. moore would call his world the immateria. in the universe of the invisibles he would be somewhere in the terrain of the invisible college and most likely the architect behind the barbelith.

he is a mad arab, made flesh now in this mad world. he smiles. he smiles for the first time in the world. a profound smile. he made a pun. he'd only read puns earlier and never made one him self. he's not even sure if it is a pun but. a mad arab in a mad world. it makes him smile. there's a connection. the mad arab. the mad world. he stops and drops his books and scrolls and laughs. not a coarse madmans laughter but a child's laughter. and he thinks that the strange sounds coming from his mouth must be laughter and how wonderful this is and he picks his books and scrolls up again and wanders further and thinks of zarathustra and nietzsche but most of all of wagner. he was but an ear as N. called him. only an ear. he could only receive. the mad arab feels compassion for wagner. he has only received for the last century as well and never given anything, but now he's here. everyone knows what he is supposed to give.

all religions have different names on him but likes the sound of the harbinger best. the harbinger of hades wasn't that the name? it's a bit muddled up, but it's a nice name. it'll suit. the destructor.
the mad arab laughs again.

[LMNO]

I love the repetition of "standing alone is an old man".

[Sepia]

annoyance hangs in the air and i'm a skinny twig waiting to snap. the last year is all gathered in one day and noone really noticing when it begun or when it stopped. it's a crap day perhaps the worst in my life. frustration hits me floodlike when i wake up, there's people there, people in my room before i've gotten out of bed smoking cigs and i hate the smell of cigarettes the same place i'm sleeping. they poke me and yell wake up and i'm feverish and start sweating and thinking this isn't real this isn't real but they're still there when i open my eyes again. they stand there still, not understanding jackshit, we're all tuned in as much some crappy analogy about a dolphin from space. i would have liked to grab a uzi and burnt holes through all of these fuckers before breakfast.

then he's there. the asshole of dimensions. the sociopath from hell. the man with absolutely no social antennas whatsoever. the dull, boring and annoying man. some people say they feel sorry for him. sympathy. sympathy. they just haven't been with him enough to feel the drain. he preys on other people, perhaps unintentionally but we all know what the road to hell is paved with. he's leaving grey shells behind him and my hope for a better world drowns when i see him because in a better world people like him wouldn't couldn't shouldn't exist. so i try to tell him off. but the words form differently when they hit his ears. i've said what i've gotta say and pretty harsh at that but he just don't understands.

so i get up and start the day anew.

[Sepia]

I told her it's not to play with. She played with it, day after day, nights after and even when I met her years later. She was the better half and better halves obviously get the brains. She left me and married the money and the jetset life, still keeping in touch and playing. I did my thing and I didn't know what happened in my life anymore, hated girls became wives, wives became hated girls again and she knew it. I didn't know what happened until i dropped the acid. I was alone, in the woods doing it, listening to the sounds of nature, being absorbed, watching myself.

I was in a movie.

To begin with I panicked, fuck fuck fuck, this is crap. This isn't happening, it's just the drugs, just another hallucination. Then I knew it was true. I was in a movie. I figured it would be around 2100 really, if this world had ever existed and I thought that it had because noone in hollywood could invent something as radical as this. So i'm an ai from around 2100. Fuck. is that really cool or the worst ever to happen? Perhaps i'm in a mmorpg, a virtual reality mmorpg, like with tim leary and some big fat vr goggles and saying i'm about to die and be reborn.

I landed but the feeling didn't. I was stuck in this movie or game and I didn't know any cheatcodes at all. Which was worst. I tried screaming impulse nine over and over and people only looked funny at me.
She called me and I knew that is was a film, it wasn't just a film, it was also a shitty way to introduce a story with me in it. So I knew why I thought of it as a movie because I knew she would be coming back again. She'd just left me and the art to live the life to the max. She'd return soon.

And she did. We met at a cabin and she took me aside saying what I knew she would say. She cried a little, i think it was of happiness but I don't know. We kissed and I told her a line she knew good and I told her don't ever change. But this isn't what you wanted, this isn't me anymore, i'm not the one you used sit with in the atelier. You can't love me anymore. But we've never grown apart she said, we've always been. She started singing love will tear us apart, i guess she was thinking it was that other love song but she sang it anyhow before i told her that i had been possessed by an ancient and misunderstood mad arab spirit. I told her that a storm was coming and asked her to to everything she ever wanted because it won't matter in the end and she blinked at me, smiled and said don't ever change.



(i'd like critique and i'd like to invite all grammar nazis. thankyou.)

[Horab Fibslager]

grammar nazis be damned. it has great flow.

[Guido Finucci]

... i'd like to invite all grammar nazis. thankyou.

I'm with Horab. Sure, there are some things that aren't technically according to the rules there but IMO a big chunk of creative writing is style, and part of that is playing with the rules of grammar a bit.

[Horab Fibslager]

... i'd like to invite all grammar nazis. thankyou.

I'm with Horab. Sure, there are some things that aren't technically according to the rules there but IMO a big chunk of creative writing is style, and part of that is playing with the rules of grammar a bit.

or cutting them into tiny pieces an dmaking a stirfry with em.  

[Sepia]

So it's technically quite crap and the flow is good and the content is unmentionable?

[Guido Finucci]

So it's technically quite crap and the flow is good and the content is unmentionable?

My opinion? There are some things that I'd take my magic Editor's Red Pen to, if it was a straight piece of formal writing.

Technically, I think it is quite an inspired piece of creative writing. Someone who was better at writing than me might be able to make some suggestions as to how you could polish it a little but I think that it captures... something... just as it is.

[LMNO]

If anything, I'd add a few minor bits of punctuatuion, to add a deeper rhythm.  But that's just my style.

Other than that, I'm digging it.

[East Coast Hustle]

seeing as I gives not one fuck for the rules of grammar, I gotta say that was a damn sweet piece of writing. hell of a job of capturing the feeling.

[Sepia]

perhaps the wrong place to ask for nazilike critique...


ta for all sweet word though.

[LMNO]

If you really want me to edit the thing for grammar & punctuation, I'll do it.


Just keep in mind it will almost certainly change the feel of the piece.

[Sepia]

If you wouldn't mind/could be bothered by it, please do. Any little nitpicking thing also you feel could be done something with or anything.

That'd be great.

[LMNO]

A fast and dirty edit:

I told her, ,ÄúIt's not with which to play.,Äù She played with it, day after day, nights after that, and even when I met her years later. She was the better half and better halves obviously get the brains. She left me, and married the money and the jetset life, still keeping in touch and playing. I did my thing, and I didn't know what was happening in my life anymore: hated girls became wives, wives became hated girls again, and she knew it. I didn't know what happened until I dropped the acid. I was alone, in the woods doing it, listening to the sounds of nature, being absorbed, watching myself.

I was in a movie.

To begin with, I panicked,Äî,ÄúFuck fuck fuck, this is crap. This isn't happening, it's just the drugs, just another hallucination.,Äù Then I knew it was true. I was in a movie. I figured it would be around 2100 really, if this world had ever existed.  I thought that it had, because no one in Hollywood could invent something as radical as this. So I'm an A.I. from around 2100.  Fuck.  Is that really cool or the worst ever to happen?  Perhaps I'm in a mmorpg, a virtual reality mmorpg, like with Tim Leary and some big fat V.R. goggles and saying, ,ÄúI'm about to die and be reborn.,Äù

I landed, but the feeling didn't.  I was stuck in this movie (or game) and I didn't know any cheat codes at all.  Which was the worst part.  I tried screaming, ,ÄúImpulse nine!,Äù over and over, and people only looked at me funny.

She called me, and I knew that it was a film; but it wasn't just a film, it was also a shitty way to introduce a story with me in it. So I knew why I thought of it as a movie, because I knew she would be coming back again. She'd just left me, and the art to live the life to the max. She'd return soon.

And she did. We met at a cabin, and she took me aside saying what I knew she would say. She cried a little, I think it was out of happiness, but I don't know. We kissed and I told her a line she knew well and I told her, ,ÄúDon't ever change. But this isn't what you wanted, this isn't me anymore, I'm not the one you used sit with in the atelier. You can't love me anymore.,Äù

,ÄúBut we've never grown apart,,Äù she said, ,Äúwe've always been.,Äù She started singing ,ÄúLove Will Tear Us Apart,Äù.  I guess she was thinking it was that other love song, but she sang it anyhow, before I told her that I had been possessed by an ancient and misunderstood mad Arab spirit. I told her that a storm was coming, and asked her to take everything she ever wanted, because it won't matter in the end.  She blinked at me, smiled, and said, ,ÄúDon't ever change.,Äù


_____
It's kind of choppy, to be sure.  The bolded word at the end was an assumption, because the intended word seemed to be missing.