so my alias is changed. someone referred to me by "mechanical" and it seemed so wrong. I think when I joined I wanted to remain fairly annonymous, so why not make some obscure Devo reference? I've been here long enough, shouldn't have to feel weird. Of course someone has my actual name already...so...here's some spontaneous writing. comments appreciated.
A STORY WRITTEN IN A PUBLIC BATHROOM
It was another dark day. All days were dark. The light that sometimes filtered through, it was a blueish, greenish light, would come on sporadically. It wasnt like a sun with a period, adhering to some timetable. Totally random. They lived in a random world. The terrain was like paper. In fact they lived on a surface crumpled, soiled. The soil was their lifeblood. They survived on the filth found in their papery earth, sometimes joined by other bits of filth that would float down, migrate. Their world was surrounded by other nearby papery worlds, of varying degrees of filthiness and often saturated with water. Dark, light, dark. Sounds were similarly random. Usually the rush of water in the distance, or the cacophonous sound of wood on metal. Or the sound of some metal and plastic gears in the distance. Something like music would float in from the distance following the sound of the wood on metal.
This particular dark day was no different. Crumpled paper, filth, food, life, sound, light, non-light, random smells would come through. On occasion, a random, non-papery substance would land on their world. An inanimate thing made of plastic or metal. Foreign to their world, odd, non-responsive. Perhaps on occasion these objects would be covered in some filth, very rarely any living filth, which was their favorite.
This random object was flicked down upon them by a gargantuan organic thing, something that obscured the light. Something theyd grown accustomed to really, but equated to some god-creatures that surrounded their filthy papery world with more filthy papery worlds. This object was a small paper cylinder that was hot, smoldering, at one end, at the other it was composed of some odd porous synthetic material.
As soon as the smoldering cylinder landed on their papery filth world, they knew something was amiss. Their world began to smolder and smoke. Soon there was an ethereal light all around them, white, red, purple, yellow, blue, HOT HEAT. Soon they were surrounded and their dark, paper, filthy world was turning into black ashes. They were engulfed in this ethereal heat. They themselves began to burn with their world. Their world and all the worlds around them lit up with the ethereal light. They were transformed.
With the burning they felt the most excruciating pain and their bodies smoldered away to vapor around them, at which point they felt the most pleasant relief. They rose out of their world, away from the heat, the darkness, the embers of what was until moments ago was their filthy, papery world. As they rose up they saw their world was contained in a plastic container, where worlds had been stacked on top of each other, as randomly as the lights and sounds theyd grown so accustomed to. Their world container was below some contraption, a basin of sorts with metal attachments, and they could only guess it made the water sound. As they rose further they saw another object that was actually filled with water, but lower and further away with a big rectangle attached. As they rose higher they saw a plastic trapezoidal prism attached to the space around -- this was all contained in a box -- was this the thing that made the gear sound?
Before they reached the top of the box, a panel opened, on the side and music rushed in, followed by an organic creature, one of their gods, then with the noise of crashing wood on metal.
Just as they were about to pass into the top of the box -- they were floating and realized they would pass through solid surfaces -- the creature removed part of a layer covering its lower half and sat on the bowl near the floor and made another sound, a bizarre flapping warble followed by splashing of the water and a most intolerable odor, one that not even their new feeling of bliss could overcome. Thankfully they passed through the top of the box and with a rush accelerated through a perforation, and sucked through a pipe and shot into the sky.
A STORY WRITTEN IN A PUBLIC BATHROOM
It was another dark day. All days were dark. The light that sometimes filtered through, it was a blueish, greenish light, would come on sporadically. It wasnt like a sun with a period, adhering to some timetable. Totally random. They lived in a random world. The terrain was like paper. In fact they lived on a surface crumpled, soiled. The soil was their lifeblood. They survived on the filth found in their papery earth, sometimes joined by other bits of filth that would float down, migrate. Their world was surrounded by other nearby papery worlds, of varying degrees of filthiness and often saturated with water. Dark, light, dark. Sounds were similarly random. Usually the rush of water in the distance, or the cacophonous sound of wood on metal. Or the sound of some metal and plastic gears in the distance. Something like music would float in from the distance following the sound of the wood on metal.
This particular dark day was no different. Crumpled paper, filth, food, life, sound, light, non-light, random smells would come through. On occasion, a random, non-papery substance would land on their world. An inanimate thing made of plastic or metal. Foreign to their world, odd, non-responsive. Perhaps on occasion these objects would be covered in some filth, very rarely any living filth, which was their favorite.
This random object was flicked down upon them by a gargantuan organic thing, something that obscured the light. Something theyd grown accustomed to really, but equated to some god-creatures that surrounded their filthy papery world with more filthy papery worlds. This object was a small paper cylinder that was hot, smoldering, at one end, at the other it was composed of some odd porous synthetic material.
As soon as the smoldering cylinder landed on their papery filth world, they knew something was amiss. Their world began to smolder and smoke. Soon there was an ethereal light all around them, white, red, purple, yellow, blue, HOT HEAT. Soon they were surrounded and their dark, paper, filthy world was turning into black ashes. They were engulfed in this ethereal heat. They themselves began to burn with their world. Their world and all the worlds around them lit up with the ethereal light. They were transformed.
With the burning they felt the most excruciating pain and their bodies smoldered away to vapor around them, at which point they felt the most pleasant relief. They rose out of their world, away from the heat, the darkness, the embers of what was until moments ago was their filthy, papery world. As they rose up they saw their world was contained in a plastic container, where worlds had been stacked on top of each other, as randomly as the lights and sounds theyd grown so accustomed to. Their world container was below some contraption, a basin of sorts with metal attachments, and they could only guess it made the water sound. As they rose further they saw another object that was actually filled with water, but lower and further away with a big rectangle attached. As they rose higher they saw a plastic trapezoidal prism attached to the space around -- this was all contained in a box -- was this the thing that made the gear sound?
Before they reached the top of the box, a panel opened, on the side and music rushed in, followed by an organic creature, one of their gods, then with the noise of crashing wood on metal.
Just as they were about to pass into the top of the box -- they were floating and realized they would pass through solid surfaces -- the creature removed part of a layer covering its lower half and sat on the bowl near the floor and made another sound, a bizarre flapping warble followed by splashing of the water and a most intolerable odor, one that not even their new feeling of bliss could overcome. Thankfully they passed through the top of the box and with a rush accelerated through a perforation, and sucked through a pipe and shot into the sky.
VIEW 11 of 11 COMMENTS
citrus:
and i like the germ story.
edison23:
shop is open