Flash

759

It pissed me off to think that he was gone without me.
Winston said there was nothing else to do now, that we were on our own, and yet I couldn’t believe it. The plan had always been to leave him behind; him, not me. Why? Sometimes we talked about how you never really know someone until they shit on your doorstep – literally or not. That particular conversation came back to me quickly, how true it had been then and how truer it was now, at this moment, when I was standing in the middle of nowhere with an utter nobody. Come, we have to move before the pigs get here, Winston said. I wanted to tell him to piss off, to get lost, but nothing came out. Continue reading

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Flash, fragments

Intermittent Explosive Disorder

They made fun of Joseph, because of his name. And because of his ears too. He had big ears, they told him he could get satellite with it. He began to wear hats all the time, inside outside. Hats were the first shield he found, a cheap one, but effective most of the time. Then he told everyone to call him Joe. There was no more Joseph. Joseph was nothing but a nightmare, a pathetic sod, a poor excuse for a human being. That was what growing up meant to him, and when people laughed about these years, he did not. He watched over those years as a precious jewel, his own personal treasure. Continue reading

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Flash, fragments

Splinters

I’m tempted to write about how much this means to me. I really am. But then again, should I? I mean, who’s going to read to this? People are going to judge me? I don’t know. I feel terrible about all of this. And I can’t even begin to think about what “this” it. Strange, isn’t it? I know. The perks of being a human being. A man. A woman. A complicated walking thing. Yes, sucks. I know. But to be honest with you that wasn’t the point. Of all this I mean, of this nonsense. And not, the life part. That is a bigger nonsense that I couldn’t even try to put into words. Even images wouldn’t be accurate enough. No, what I mean is, gosh, where am I going with this? Well, okay. Let’s start again. Something happened recently. Something terrible, or something really good, depending on perspectives. And that’s the thing – I am both perspectives. I can’t say whether or not I’m pleased, or sad, or mad. Whatever. I can’t say anything anymore, about me, that is. And this, this impression, this feeling. This means a lot to me. Somewhere somehow, in a way, that’s what real freedom is. How? you’d ask. Well hold on a second. Close your apps and settle your phone down. Look at me and think. Just imagine you react to something without any preconceived moral, knowledge, rule of thumb or whatever the fuck, sorry, crossing that fuck out, or whatever else you could think of. Imagine reacting to something as if it was the first time you ever saw such a thing, as if you were back to being a child, not caring about oil, politics, psychopaths, cold pizza, whatever. Just imagine. Do you see what I mean? Continue reading

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fragments

Land of the Lost

I stood there for a long while, my mind drifting off in a sort of psychological no man’s land that will always remain wordlessly imperceptible to me, until some noise drew me out. The coffin lid was still up and it was all about horizontal lines and dark shades of white. There wasn’t much sense in any thing, living or dead. That, and I stood still there, alone.
Words and sounds came in echo all around me, I was passive, they were active. Linguistics and semantics. I remembered sentences, quotes, was reminded some things that I had said. Awful things mostly – an eternal trick of the mind. Continue reading

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