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Author Topic: Round Robin: a new RR for a New Year.  (Read 2790 times)
Dincrest
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« on: January 09, 2009, 11:14:51 PM »

You all know how Round Robins work, right?  One person starts a story then the next person adds onto it then the next person adds onto it, etc. etc. etc.  It's all up to your imagination to take the story where you want it to, be it serious, dramatic, comedic, absurd, whatever.  If you want to put in a cyborg pirate who shoots lasers out of his peg-leg, have at it.

Here we go:

It is often said that one need only look at the world directly in front of them to see the infinite hopes, dreams, and possibilities out there, no matter how unfathomable.  Young children, whether they live in mansions up in the hills or down here where I do, all entertain the notion that maybe, just maybe, if they take a flying leap off of some high place that they'll actually be able to fly. 

Hmph.  Easy for them to say, just sitting around in the safety of their highrise cocoons.  They're not struggling for a single clean breath down here like I am.  If there is an empty ketchup bottle on their floor, it's empty because they actually got to eat its contents.  It's hard to have hopes and dreams when the world in front me that's said to possess these things is covered in garbage.  And should I look out to the horizon, all I see is more garbage being added to the landfill I call home. 

But maybe there is truth to what they say about kids dreaming of flying.  The only difference is that "they" are flying just for the fun of it, but *I* am flying to get the hell out of here.   

But now is not the time to be pondering stuff like they do.  Pah, nasty habit of mine.  I still have a ton of stuff to do, like...
« Last Edit: January 10, 2009, 12:49:03 PM by Dincrest » Logged

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DM Kyle E. Miller
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« Reply #1 on: January 10, 2009, 07:19:54 PM »

...like listening to all the saddest songs in my collection. Like tearing the pages out of magazines that remind me of yesterday. Like censoring my environment, throwing out everything that doesn't remind me of just today. It's time to make some trash of my own. Maybe I'll have a chance for a clean breath if I rid myself of these leftovers from yesterday's mistakes, like disposing of the empty viscera after a homebrewed abortion.

There's the alarm clock that woke me yesterday and the all the little notes, quickly and sloppily scribed. They've got to go. And the picture I drew of the cityscape and a couple thumbtacks that pinned it to my corkboard. A ticket stub, a pencil, a prize from a capsule machine. Oh, and I mustn't forget the green jacket that kept me warm. If I don't throw that out, I'll never be able to forget it.

The trash bag's full, full of yesterday's trash. Now I just have to find a place to hide it, some secret receptacle that will spirit it away through convoluted tubes and obliterate it later on. I just have to stand up and start walking. It sounds so simple, but it's so hard to move now. If I just get rid of this refuse, I'll be as light as the wind, like a birdů right?

« Last Edit: January 10, 2009, 07:36:02 PM by DM Kyle E. Miller » Logged
Dincrest
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« Reply #2 on: January 13, 2009, 01:46:14 PM »

Even if I were to get rid of all this, there are always those stubborn bits that refuse to go away.  Perhaps tangibly getting rid of garbage is the first step in clearing one's mind, but it is still just a first step.  Even if I were to get rid of that filthy teddy bear that girl gave me that day, her face would still remain my memories.  Even if I were to get rid of that torn half of a 100 dollar bill, the memory of that scuffle where my bill got torn up in the first place would echo back to me. 

I smack the sides of my head with my palms.  "Get out of my head!  Get out of my head!"  I don't want to think about these things.  Money and girls lead to nothing but trouble.  Two things I want to be completely rid of and never have to think about again.  Yet even under all this trash, my thoughts and dreams often drift to money and girls.  Always money and girls.  Accursed things, they.  Makes a guy want to castrate himself sometimes.  It was better as a little kid when all I thought about were robots with laser guns and eating boogers.

...and in my moment of insanity, the bag drops, tears open and all the contents spill out everywhere.  I've made a mess.  This mess is but a drop in this already filthy bucket, but it still makes me feel guilty.

But that guilt is fleeting.  Without the burden of the heavy bag, I just shrug my shoulders and walk on.  Eventually I...
« Last Edit: January 13, 2009, 01:51:37 PM by Dincrest » Logged

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« Reply #3 on: January 24, 2009, 04:26:41 AM »

Eventually I even forget the bag as I walk on through the crowded streets, going nowhere.

                                                        * * *

How did I get here? Well, it's a long story. It all started 20 years ago, back when people still cared that I existed. My name is, or was, not important. All that matters is what I represented: high society. In this city, that's literally high society: the penthouse apartments of the Upper City miles above the smog-filled labyrinth of the Lower City. Up there they tell us only the worst kind of human vermin can survive below the cloud of poison. But let me tell you: it's far worse up there than down here.

I'd done reasonably well in life. I even used to be married. Not to the teddy bear girl. No, her sister. Yes, I was different back then. I couldn't remember a woman's name for longer than five minutes, unless she was pretty - then it was half an hour. Let's just say married life changed me. Now, the teddy bear girl's name was...
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Dincrest
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« Reply #4 on: January 29, 2009, 07:32:02 PM »

Eeyore.  That obviously wasn't her real name, but it's a name that suited her perfectly.  She had a long face like a donkey, mousy hair, and a depressed outlook on life like Eeyore did.  Also, like Eeyore, she was really easy to ignore.  Not a remarkable person in the slightest and certainly not someone anybody would remember. 

But the teddy bear incident is one that will haunt my memory forever, no matter how hard I try.  That incident went a little something like this...
« Last Edit: January 30, 2009, 03:20:49 PM by Dincrest » Logged

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