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t33th1ng · 8 years ago

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aborted nanowrimo attempt - november 2015

false bend sits on the coast and is quiet , and keeps to itself . its a town separated from the world by big high trees that pack together tight and leave no room for travelers .

toursits love it , you see . tourists love it . the people who live there wouldnt say they love it . but the people that live there arent overly emotive to begin with

everyones a little similar in this town and if youre passing through you arent going to notice that until you move on , you get to the next town and you remember the way people are Supposd to be. then it hits them , hits you , dawns on these tourists that hey something is a little weird over there , over there in false bend . somethings a little off

the people who live there know but they dont … acknowledge . that doesnt do much good . somethings fucked here , thats all they know .

somethings fucked and it reels in these tourists , who are on long scenic drives along the coast or are headed towards the national park up north , they are attracted to whatever this town carries they love the fresh ocean air and the clear crystal waters flowing down from the hills , the muddy streets , they love the towring trees the foggy beach and the cliffs above it (a witch lives in those cliffs) the tourists lap up the quirky locals and the weird way the light filters down from heaven , they love it , then thye move on . nobody moves into false bend , not really . like .. its been known to happen people Will move in but so slowly , it happens at at trickle . its like they come here . they love it , they want to Want to live here , then they leave again to take care of other affairs and in that time something Clicks in their minds like yeah , yeah false bend is nice , maybe we’ll drive through there again next summer or something but i guess .. now that i Really have time to mull it over .. i guess i dont particulrly want to live there . its nice but .. not for me

its not for anyone really . its a miracle the town even exists because no one fucking wants to live there Really .

Regardless

people live there . the same people , year after year . people dont really move away either they just . its Stagnant is what it is .

and then , in late summer , a full entire family moves in which is unprecedented entire Families dont move in if anybody comes into the town its a solitary being , maybe a couple , never a family . most parents have the good sense not to drag their children into something like this

but this family , the osmans , they move in regardless . theyre a weird lot , weird in just a way to fit in here and weird , water-damaged . the father is transferred here for work . hes a doctor . a … hes a pathologist okay , he works in a lab looking at germs . his wife is a mess , his two daughters are surviving. its a bad family .

they move into these apartments , known as being the nicer apartments in town. the building is low and either painted gray or weathered into that color who fucking knows . it has a courtyard which is pretty cute and well maintained , if you can imagine that . two stories , vacant feeling , nice apartments though . the stairwells are creepy . it feels a bit like a motel . the roof is flat .

these osman family move into the apartment that used to belong to gertrude stetson before her son sent her to an assisted living facility two towns over . the apartment was definitely too big for one old woman to manage on her own but at the same time its far too small for a four person family to live in. theres a sense that this apartment will be temporary , hopefully , thats the plan , please .

but really .. Are There four people living here ? the father puts in long long days at the hospital and sometimes just sleeps there . he has sleep problems , takes drugs for those, so if he is home hes passed out . the mother is here and there , shes not a staple in the ‘family life’. the daughters are the only ones there with any regularity . so maybe this apartment is just the right size .

theres two bedrooms , a bathroom , and reasonable space set aside for a conjoined kitchen+dining area and living room.

its some kind of arrangement

So , next door , across the hall from these osmans , is josef sokol , the younger daughter catches a glimpse of him and refers to him as the ‘tweaky looking fucker’ . its not a wrong assumption to make , josef doesnt look good . he doesnt feel good either , any time , at all , ever . he monitors his new neighbors move in just as he monitored old miss gertrudes move out . in fact , he helped , and his muscles ached for days after . so he doest help these new ones move in . he observes them through his doors peephole and gets a bad feel but he cant tell i if its just him or if its legitimate . guess he'll have to wait and see . he spies on them really , wonders if he should buy a coffee cake or whatever the fuck and give it to them as a housewarming gift . thats what ol miss gertrude did when he moved in here , years and years and years ago . but whatever . he ‘ll think on it . maybe .. he can get the coffee cake and give it to them and use it as an excuse to scope them out .. yes . yes sounds good . josef needs to keep tabs on people

he lurks around for days , observing simply. he doesnt work or anything , he doesnt have friends or hobbies , so hes free to watch these new folks movements to quiet his frantic mind . he Needs to get a feel on them . especially since theyre right next door to him . he sees a father and two daughters and a woman who stops by once who hes never seen before so he assumes shes with them , possibly the mother ? bad vibes , bad vibes . he sits on his barstool in front of his door , straining his eye thru the peephole , smoking a cigarette . he blinks , slowly

that evening he goes for a small walk to smoke some more . he runs into another neighbor , a man who lives down at the end of the hall fuck fuck oh fuck - a man who lives down at then end of the hall named terry . terry is out walking his shitty dachshund that josef wants to fucking punt across the street its peed in front of his door twice and barks in the middle of the night , soft far -off yaps that make him jolt awake . josef glares at this shit dog . shit dog is sniffing the bag of mcdonalds some lazy ass dumped on the gutter

‘so whatre the new neighbros like’ terry asks . josef shrugs , takes a deep inhale , tries to blow the smoke away from him but the winds being weird so the smoke ends up all going in terrys face anyways , but fuck that guy .

‘’nah, nah havent talked to them yet , figured id let them settle in first ‘ blatant lies : josef is in no frame of mind to speak with others right now . this includes you terry, you fucking demon . ‘ seem a little unusual but whatever . nice enough i guess . theres a father n two daughrers and i guess a mother’

‘you guess ?’ terry does this shitty awkward laugh that he always does when josef says something mildly weird which, to be truthful , is Often . josef knows this laugh in his goddamn bones

‘yeah . some older woman is there like , once . no clue who she is . neither of the adults look like the kids tho ,’ josef exhales more smooke , it goes at terry again , terry backs up . the shit dogs chewing on an old french fry cup thing what they fuck are those called ?? called shit dog chew toy now

terry gravitates away after that . josef does too . time to walk around a three block area and then return to his apartment . see if anythings new with these neighbors . think some more about that coffee cake .

by the next afternoon josef musters up the courage , soothes his fucking brain , and buys this coffee cake . time to meet the neighbors . gotta prove hes a reasonable functioning adult . he puts on some relatively stain free clothes , and moves out . maybe he shouldve shaved too oh well . he knocks on their door , its a sunday , late summer .

one of the daughters answers . shes shorter than the other and looks mildly fucked up . she looks like she gets in fights at school over shit that doesnt matter (this is very true) and like she doesnt get enough validation . she also looks suspicious .

‘hello ?’ she opens the door just enough to pop her head out . theyre the same height , both of them . roughly five foot six , five foot seven . theyre at eye level . and they both have brown eyes . go figure

‘im your neighbor . my names josef.’ he sticks out his hand . she reluctantly shakes it .

'im bea’

‘heres some … heres this coffee cake . welcome to false bend ‘ josefs ability to do this suddenly fucks out on him and he wants to run .

‘cool ‘

bea takes the cake , josef nods , they both vanish into their apartments . josef is getting a Really bad feeling from these people .

later that evening theres a knock on josefs door . oh fuck . he silently jumps out of his cherished recliner and lightfoots to the door . nobody can hear him. outside is bea and her sister . the sister is taller , shes definitely more attractive , she looks more wellrounded for sure but still kind of dead inside but josef isnt one to judge . he opens his door

the sister immediately smiles and sticks her hand out . ‘hello! sorry i missed you earlier , i was taking a nap. my names gloria. thanks for the cake!’

josef shakes her hand , studying her . he cant get a good read on her and its fucking him up .

‘josef .. josef sokol . nice to meet you’ hes forgotten to smile so far so he makes himself do it . he thinks thats the right facial expression for this . glorias smiling so …

bea isnt but hes not going to trust her for social cues .

‘its nice to meet you, sorry my parents arent here , im sure theyd love to meet you too ‘ gloria goes on for a bit about things that josef doesnt necessarily Care about but hes glad to know . family of four , her fathers a busy busy doctor man doing his medicine , they moved here from new mexico , its so beautiful here isnt it ? it sure is .

gloria thanks him again , promises to see him around , everyone retreats . josef knows more now but fuck that just making him more confused . he feels paranoid . he always paranoid but Especially now .

the osman apartment is a weird place to be . the grand dr norman osman has unpacked and situated all his earthly belongings . the larger of the two bedrooms is normal looking . the rest of the apartment , boxes and bubble wrap and the remains of several half assed unpacking attempts . the sisters are trying to make things nice but it isnt working like it should . theyve smashed their mattresses into their shared room , and have realized theres no room to put the bedframes in there , so now they have to figure out where to get rid of those . bea puzzles out how to get the wifi and cable set up , she figures it out , they spend an evening watching nature documentaries together instead of unpacking more because theyre tired . and then the next day they go on a walk instead because gloria wants to figure out whats where in the town shes says its so pretty lets explore . they end up doing that all day and are so tired by the time they get back they pass out .

bea knows her mother is staying in a motel and she doesnt tell gloria . it wouldnt be anything new but she doesnt want to say it . gloria probably already knows anyways why should she bother . mom is gone gone gone

they seee their father , their esteemed doctor , a few times .

he comes home almost every night , he takes his shoes off and immediately retreats to his room , he leaves early in the morning . the family does not communicate much .

but this is how things always are . life goes on .

josef observes , josef is confused . school is going to start soon , in a matter of days . gloria will be a senior , bea will be a junior . gloria wants to get everything unpacked before school starts . bea doesnt give a shit .

‘cmon . if it doesnt get done by school its Never getting done ‘

‘why cant we just go on another walk .. i want to look in the forest …. ‘

gloria wins , they unpack some . not all but some . they get the bathroom set up somewhat . bea finds her fuzzy sucks and puts them on . the apartment feels a little less shitty .

‘ isnt this so much nicer ?’ gloria feels like theres fresh air in her lungs . she likes things to be a certain way . bea doesnt care as much . they both clean up for bed and retreat . their bedroom has one tiny tiny window and they lay in bed awake , facing each other , eyes open . the moon is weak and the clouds are heavy , the light is cold and failing . they look at each other and think and remember

they arent related . bea was adopted by their parents when she was four years old and gloria is their godchild . gloria has seen a lot and it makes it hard for her to sleep sometimes . the first night they really truly met each other was a little like this , in the dark and staring at each other emptily . they are sisters in a weird ferocious way . they hurt together but theyre not dead

that night , like most of the others , norman comes home . theyre both awake when he unlocks the front door . they listen to him take off his shoes , take his sleeping pills down his throat , he strips his socks off , goes into the room , turns the tv on . the volume is low . light flashes under the door .

‘lets go to sleep ‘

please

bea and gloria go to the coffee shop down the street the day before school starts . the street is poorly taken care of and theres a bunch of weeds growing , theres plants bursting out of everywhere in this town its just the way . and the buildings around the street , just like all buildings , in town , are gray and beaten . the ocean weather gnaws them down into something gray and dirty .

all the buildings are low . gloria looks straight ahead while she walks and bea looks all around them . a truck drives by them , maybe the passengers are somebody they will go to school with ? theres a bar with a shining neon sign across the street . crows sit on the telephone wires . bea watches it all .

in the cofffee shop bea gets a donut , gloria gets tea and a scone . gloria cares more about keeping up appearances.

they sit at the window to watch people inside , and outside , the coffee shop . as they sit it starts to rain a little .

okay i dont giiiive a fuck

wanted to tdo donuts , donuts was boring ,

after the coffee shop wihc was Boring And a Mistake Fuck U .. afterwards thy go towards the ocean , it is cold and lovely

the ocean rolls out forever . before coming here , neither sister has seen the ocean before . they watch it for a long time . gloria is smiling , she likes it . bea is mildly horrified . she doesnt know why . she watches it move in front of her and she has a hard time breathing . oh she hates it . or not hates it . it scares her . and her first kneejerk reaction to being afraid of things is to hate them so its only natural

gloria wants to walk the beach forever , admire the nature and the shells and the gulls , admire the gulls and the clouds . . bea just wants to go the fuck home but hey she isnt going to ditch her sister on the beach .

they stay out there an hour , more than an hour . fuck im gying im g=done goodNight

bea can only view her chemistry teacher with suspicion. marcus rydell , who has long braided hair and plays guitar and wont shut up about his beloved pet cockatoo and has a gigantic potted tree in his classroom that cant be removed without killing it , well this mr rydell is a weird guy . and bea can handle weird but theres just something so off about this guy .

all the other students love him , hes a school favorite. but bea is creeped out by his pale pale blue eyes. something about his eyes . she doesnt know it by name doesnt know what it particularly is but its there she hates it , it drives her nuts

(months later after shes established her weird , mildly shitty relationship with josef, she tells him about it . he looks thoughtful on it but doesnt offer much beyond 'have you noticed how others have that look? in this town?' and now that he mentions it she really does notice that . imagine that . much much later he tells her more and she realizes what it all means )

anyways

bea doesnt like this fisheyed hippie shit bastard and waching him an hour a day in class is a bad feeling. she stews on this in the back of class and is thoroughly unnerved by the time she leaves. she cant even whine about it to anyone - again , everyone loves him. also she doesnt have friends so like

sol washington is the world famous darling of false bend, he has a huge home there on a cliff above the ocean with an all native species carefully maintained garden. hes there twice maybe three times a year . there is a live in staff of maids and yardworkers and one grouchy middle aged woman who takes care of his impressive 400 gallon fish tank. he loves those fish. she loves them too but not much else

josef would be the eleventh edition to this household and sol wishes he would but but josef doubts he could handle it and anyways , living in large spaces freaks him out . hes an opposite claustrophobe. also a reguar claustrophobe . josef has some issues

he goes to the grand washington house whenever sol visits , to keep him company and to be bathed in luxury. he also pays the house periodic visits to just to make sure its being kept to sols standards. and to send him pictures of his fish . he also kind of likes some of the staff there and likes to check up with them when hes feeling particularly sociable which is a relative term with him but is known to happen

sol designed the house himself of course . just as he has a fair number of the buildings throughout false bend. its only natural - hes a beloved renowned architect with a strong capability in interior design . he travels all over the world to build and lecture and entertain. sol is the light of whatever party hes sucked into . his passions are creation , and socializing (and the occult But ) in fact he met josef when he traveled to new mexico in the 80s to help create a spiritualists mountain retreat . a lovely complex integrated into the landscape and he picked up josef along the way . josef cant come to terms about how he feels on that - getting uprooted from the desert drug culture and transplanted into the northwest rainforest . he figures it was good in a way, not gong to complain about having a safe place to live and being somewhat sober is somewhat nice as well . he supposes . but going up north tossed open a whole new can of worms as well . thanks , sol .

josefs life in the desert was painful dangerous and something he will never properly recover from . hes killed a man and witnessed three other murders . hes wasted four solid years of his life on heroin , his body hurts and his scars stand out bright on his skin . and his brains never going to heal . but hes come to terms with that at the very least

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t33th1ng · 8 years ago

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hierarchy - march 2015

here is a diagram of filth :

when you have a body you have filth. existence is : inherently filthy. work to moderate the filth but it will always be there. humans arent clean. reptiles - much better but not pure. pure beings are - rocks and fire. no other pure things exist on earth. i dont know about other planets. fire cannot purify humans and humans cant calcify so : impure.

humans are impure in many many ways. the bridges on the bottom of our feet is made of something cheap so feet break. the skin on the bottoms of feet is okay if it is thick enough. close to calcification. thick yellowed skin that wont bleed if cut open and that is rough like cement. that is a better skin. face skin is the worse. everything in between the two is also in between. it doesnt matter horribly much.

more on skin later

after feet come legs. legs - like in between skins - dont matter too much. they could be worse. good for : punishment.

the real problem comes with guts. guts are aesthetically pleasing but they come at a high price. malfunction, noisy, uncontrolled pain, and they process another source of filth: food. food is filth as well possible expansion later. the guts come in many colors with liver and lungs being the most beautiful but they commit sins. all of them. they process food and introduce further impurities into the body. also are capable of growth which equals more body. a bad plan. guts are good as long as they do not reside within me - a good thought.

purity hierarchy concerning in guts: worst gut is the stomach. stomach is objectively evil. intestines are also bad but they merely are doing their job whereas the Stomach is Objectively Evil. intestines also have a nice shape and are expertly arranged whereas the stomach is a floating idiot in meatspace. there is much more intestines however, and they do impure work, so they are not free of sin.

heart isnt the best either. propels blood and is squishy. blood is somewhat dirty which makes the heart even dirtier. veins are like intestines - innocence roped into a disgusting organization. veins are rather pure despite contact with blood. veins exist nicely. arteries less so. but hearts . hearts are an okay idea but bad in existence.

liver is very good. nice and soft and purple that is allowed. like a large liquid bruise puddle. it works as a purifying apparatus it works to improve the vessel. admirable destiny. a blessed function.

any organ that deals in gall - Filthy!! gall pus various yellow liquids of the body are all condemned. sickness.

lungs are reasonable. they are like fat fruits. i want to punch one. their color is a little unsatisfactory but i can forgive that because their function is so good. air is a pretty okay thing it is okay to process it the lungs are okay. i do not trust their color or their inner texture though. besides that : model organ. good job. bladder - another organ i want to punch. thats all to say about it. punchable.

moving onto the things that are not guts but still exist namely : throat brain facial cavities and skin.

a throat is a good deal. even though it transports food which is pretty sinful i think its still okay. it also transports liquid which is marginally better. it is beautiful and crunchy.

brain . i hate these. they dont work. i dont even think a purity scale applies here brains are just so shitty i cant explain. purity does not apply does not apply at all. brains need to be revised heavily. the people need a new edition. awful slime globe that sits behind my eyes...foul. eyes arent good either. eyes i could do without. eyes are very impure and corrupted and are liars.

the other various facial cavities : nose is neutral. a little gross but not impure. nasal cavities are very bad though. they shouldnt exist. they are scheming.

ears are where evil small things go and hide so their function does not bring their impurity but their form does. ideal hiding place. filth is brought in by foreign forces.

the mouth is truly truly blessed. it is the perfect body part with the palat / mouth roof being the holiest of them all. the teeth are a close runner up though. the mouth as a system is all i could ever ask for from physical existence it is a shining light. so good that even its involvement in food processing does not stain it. the mouth is beautiful and should be worshipped as a savior. i just cannot explain how good a mouth is. be thankful you have one. pray to have more.

skin is the last thing i think. its bad. it makes oils and has pores (which are arguably worse than the skin itself) and every dirty thing you touch gets on it. i dont care i dont care i dont care

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t33th1ng · 8 years ago

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baby - february 2015

one day i got a gift from god and the day was golden and dusty. i was on a hill and gods hands dropped from the clouds and god said 'i have a charge for you' and the charge was a sword.

'okay okay' i said. i hadnt talked to god much at this point so i didnt know how formal to be

'this is your charge. raise it.' from gods hands came the sword. it was small and made of rocks and bark and leather. it lay in the grass, it lay in the dirt. it was a sword. 'it is you child' gods hands went back behind the clouds and it was silent and i looked at my child, my charge, the sword.

it looked useless. a sword made out of rock. it wouldnt be able to cut worth shit. the handle would rot if left in the rain. i hope god didnt make this because i would like to think god is a competent craftsman because god did, after all, make everything else. is my dna held together with bark and leather? fuck i hope not

i pick up the sword with my mouth. why did god give this child to someone without thumbs? god shouldve given me some hands as well. god didnt. god has bigger concerns.

the sword starts to scream. okay. okay. thats weird. and unpleasant. okay. the screaming goes into my teeth directly and shakes the bones in my head away from each other. i feel it liquify my skull with sound and i drop it back into the dirt. it screams there too

why is it screaming

i dont want a sword at all, i dont want this child charge anymore, i especially do not want something that screams like this i cant see right anymore with the screaming why the hell do i have this. disgusting

'stop it' i say. i push at it with my paws but it doesnt have a mouth to cover.

'stop it. stop it'

why wont it stop screaming if it had flesh i would eat it to get it to stop. i leave it at the bottom of the hill in the dirt, in the grass, and go home. the day is no longer dusty and gold and i am bitter.

that night i cannot sleep because the sword continues to scream. 'stop it. stop it. stop it.' i push my face into the ground. nothing helps. i return to the sword when it is dark out. 'stop it. stop it.'

it quiets itself somehow but it still finds tiny ways to scream. i carry it back, the screams go right down my throat. i put it in my cave and lay next to it and the screams are so soft now that i can sleep. good. finally. in the morning i will ask god to take it back and give it to somebody with more child care experience.

back at the hill in the very early morning, with a little bit of rain, with sparrows looking at me from the trees. i had to bring the sword with me - when i leave it, the screaming becomes awful. 'god! take it back please! i dont want this child!' god doesnt care. i sit on the hill with the sword for an hour. the sparrows lose interest.

'please take it'

finally gods hands come forth again. they are only hands, but they look angry.

'this child is yours. you cant give it back. raise it, and it will do good by you.'

'its a sword. its a Sword'

god makes gestures with the hands fingers. the gestures say: and your point? i hate god

'give it to somebody who knows what to do with it. all i know is to eat things and fight and sleep. i have no use for a sword.'

'its yours now.' the hands leave again. i yell at the sky a bunch but then the sword starts screaming again so i have to stop. what now. what now. what now. what now

life is no good with this child. it is cumbersome and worse than useless. it screams for no reason sometimes and then the sound echoes into the cave, makes it like all the rocks are screaming too. i leave it then and the screams are heard all through the forest. it wont leave me alone.

i sit in the cave and chew on a root. the screams are soft now. i think it might be sleeping.

one day the sword is quiet and i know there is something wrong in the forest. something that needs to be eaten. it is near.

these are the things god wants me to do: raise this shitty child and keep people away. thats why god talks to me and gives me a little help and lets me speak. it is also why i live alone and will never have real children and why i dont have to eat. i think this is death.

the help god gives me are in disguises. the disguises let me get very close to people so that they are not alarmed. then i can eat them. i dont know why god wants me to eat people. i get up.

when i return the sword is screaming again and in a bad way. i am disgusting now - i do not like to eat people. their blood is on me and i am impure. i scream back at it. i scream until i have no voice left. it does not have this problem. it will never stop making noise. i lay back and the noise makes me blind and i can no longer feel my body, or the bodies i have consumed. this is not sleep, it is insidious, it is not restful, but i cant move.

the noise goes on. i wish i could throw up

no animals like me. they know i am different. and now that i have the sword they all seem to hate me. animals have a different idea of what is holy than the beings that can think and they know i am very very bad. they can see something on me like a sickness but i am not sick, i am never sick. they do not fight me because they cannot win, maybe they know that what i do is good. but they do not like me.

they hold nothing for me anyways. they do not matter.

in my cave is crystals and water. the crystals are so sharp but i walk on them anyway because it is hard to feel pain. my feet will bleed. i can wash it off in the streams. some of the streams are clear but some run in colors. none of the animals can drink from them because it makes them sick. all the caves water burns my tongue but i can drink it.

i dont get sick.

the sword doesnt need to eat or drink. of course. it doesnt have a mouth. i think it likes being by the crystals and the streams though. it doesnt scream then.

i still have to drink though. god says it keeps me pure. i dont believe god. i am full of filth, the mineral waters cannot clean me. god says i have to though. so i drink with the sword beside me now and i let water drop from my mouth onto its blade. it doesnt scream then either.

im glad.

life changes weirdly. i dont have to leave the cave. the screaming makes the crystals grow. the light from the sky is strange and makes it hard to see, like i am seeing in a dream. i dont have to eat people anymore even - god tells me to stay put when they come. the sword will scream in a way like my bones are being pulled out and then it stops and i cant even breathe. which isnt a problem for me, i dont have to.

whatever is out there is taken care of. i dont have to leave.

my skin starts crunching too. i dont like to move. it occurs to me that im turning into rock or something like it. that is okay. the sword starts changing too but i cant really tell how. again, it is becoming hard to see.

god talks to me one night, directly into my brain, and says that whats happening is okay. i trust god this time. i think im coming to the end of my usefulness. i dont see how the sword can replace me but god can. i grow cold and moving hurts me. pain is a weird emotion.

i cant barely see by now, but all the crystals are so bright to me. something carries me to the streams deep in the cave so i can drink. it must be what the sword has become. i cant see it but it is even brighter than the crystals. maybe the crystals reflect it. maybe thats whats going on. it carries me to drink and puts my mouth to the water. the water no longer burns. my tongue is so slow. 'what are you now?' i ask it. it responds in screams. it still cannot talk. i dont think it ever will be able to. it can only scream. 'do you have a mouth now?' i put up my thumbless paws to its face and search for a mouth. its face is soft now and roughly warm. it has a face. so strange.

i do not think it has bones or skin or flesh, so i start to think its an angel. every time i feel it, its form has changed. one day its face is human shaped. then later, i cannot find where it ends. i can sink my stubbed fingers deep into it and never find bones but its membrane will not break. i think i am dying in the company of an abstract concept and shit do i pity the thing that sees my child now.

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t33th1ng · 8 years ago

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soulmate 2:16-3:16 - march 2016

theres something hidden into this city that i love deeply and i have to find it again.

i saw it once , years ago , as a child . i lay on my back in a narrow dark street. my vision is blurred i dont know how or why im here . i crook my head back farther, farther...... and the clouds part open , or a screen is shifted , and one skinny fall of sunlight comes down to shine on this fern thats growing outward from a damp wall by a door. i blink and my vision clears , i blink again , then three times, then someone grabs my and pulls me upright and takes me away. for three blinks im on my back as a child , in a crooked alley, the cement under me is uneven, grimy, wet. my head is tilted back and the muscles in my neck ache from it and i see the fern sitting in that moment of light . then i leave . im in love

oh i am obsessed with it , i need to find it . i dont know how. my memories are broken across my life , i dont ..... know .. i dont know where anything is. i scratch at my head like some dumb animal bored to death on a chain. i click my teeth ......

i spend my years memorising the fern in the light , knowing i have to find it again . but when , but how ...

one night i try to leave to find it , but i am caught , and returned , and i cant find it that way . i must bide my time . i guess . i think ive waited long , so long . so i know i can do it ive spent this much time waiting i can spend a little more and i dont want to ! but i can , i certainly can.

memory ... memory .... where does my memory sleep? where is it in my head ? i know that i must know how to return, because i have been there once before . there must be some remnant left from that trip, some rind, some little toenail clipping of memory to show me how to go back . i try to plot this pilgrimage but its so so hard. i cannot imagine, i cannot fathom ...

i need to though . i must . i love it dearly, i love it with my full self and i have to see it again .

i go on a small walk early in the morning. the air is gray . im not trying to find the fern by the door today, i just need a walk , for my legs and my mind. i walk hard, smacking the bottoms of my shoes onto the pavement so the earth knows im here. i go by businesses and houses and two parks, i pass a courthouse and a museum. i walk all the way down to the wharf and stare into the glaring cold ocean below me .

it stares back. i see a crab, and i turn around to start my way back.

i feel the ocean lurking at my heels as i walk away. i regret coming here.

i eat a plum today . i eat it slowly and think about the fern and the door. its flesh is cold and soft.

the fern, the door, where are they , they are hiding far away from me but i know. I Know. they are in this very same city as myself. i grind the thin bitter plum skin between my molars. where could they be ........ god i must find them.

i make so many plans to go out , track them down , and they all fail. there is a component missing . something causes my failure but i dont know what it hurts my head! it hurts my physically !

a solar eclipse is approaching and i think it is important. i plan to leave on the eclipse to find my love and i wont return, never. ill never come back. the eclipse is five days away, now four ...... i watch the sky

does the sun know? is the sun plotting ? do they all know up there , all those monsters hanging up there, do they know about eclipses? no . they are also dumb animals , on a chain , just like me . we are made of star stuff after all . thats one big chain.

the sun dissapears so slowly, being gently eaten away, and i make my leave . the streets run with people viewing the eclipse. they gather at opportune places - the tops of their apartment buildings , on the beach, on a hill in a park. i slide past them, they are so thick around me . the street is fucking clotted with humans and i swim through them.

at first they seem oblivious but slowly, i realize, that theyre on to me. i dont know what it is; probably the sun being so weird. it must affect our brains somehow. but they can sense my presence and sense my drive. they know what im up to . not every single one, i dont think....but enough that it worries me.

their many presences stick to my brain. i try to shake them.. i cant shake them. god theres so many , this city is overrun ...... ill ignore them though , ill ignore them until they make their move. if i act like i dont know what theyre doing then they will let me through for longer .. i have to pretend , for my sake , if they realize they Will tear me apart.

the eclipse is over and people are returning slowly to their duties . even with the sun back to normal though some of them are still following me ... not physically (yet) but mentally. theyre keeping tabs on my brain... i travel on anyways pretending not to know. i think i am getting closer ....

it is getting darker, darker ... i know i am approaching . im manic , im full of feverish blood and im close , so close, closer than ive ever been. i feel presences behind me , theyre on me like a pack of goddamn hounds , theyre closing in around me but they havent caught me yet.

i push past people and i dont care at this point , they all already know what im up to no reason to keep secrets anymore . a big broadcast has been made across the city, they all know now. so i push and claw past them, gush through their crowds like a ravenous slime full of intent . im full of purpose ..

the evening air is cool . i gulp it down. dusk is on us now , the light getting dusty , people crawling around bars now , the atmosphere is becoming heavy and grips at me . it sinks into my pores to try and pull me to a stop but i push through, its a miasma , its some kind of hellish gasses released to try and sedate me. i wont listen to it though . im not stopping until i find my love again. all the people coming out now to go to bars .. oh , it must be the alcohol. they drink , and breathe out, and the alcohol mixes into the oxygen and tugs on my with evil purposes. it is not pure of heart ......... the entire atmosphere here is trying to get everyone drunk. or , more specifically , trying to get me drunk , trying to contain me... i wont allow it. i have miles to go before i sleep.

its black now , its late , my vision blurs , my breath hurts , occasionally i find myself scrabbling like a cretin on my hands and knees , dragging myself through puddles of filth and scraping all my skin off , leaving a trail of myself behind on the asphalt. i try to stay on my feet as much as i can but my minds so clouded by this heavy atmosphere its hard to do what i want .

im deep , deep , into the city now and i rarely see people . maybe they have given up .. maybe they think that since ive gotten this far ill just kill myself , wear myself down to nothing on this pavement . sink to earth as a dribble of grime ..... it seems a pleasant option at this point . i hurt , i ache , my brain is screeching . but i wont , not yet .

i did not leave with the intent to die but i think thats whats going to happen . i will die on the roots of this fern . i cannot imagine Living again after this .. in fact i do not know that i am really alive right now . i do not think i am ... im decomposing ..... the skin trail behind me ..

gravity pulls me across the ground now . i know i am still being monitored but i cannot care , i do not care , they can have my carcass if they give so much of a shit . im oozing , rolling , sloughing , im not a sentient being barely im just matter with a purpose nailed to its core . i can no longer stand on two feet , i can barely crawl . and i dont see almost any people by this point . when i do , they are disgusted . they avoid me . i have grown into a beast that they fear mightily

i am upon it now , i am upon my love . i reach my tongue out of my face to try to taste it , it comes every closer . i haul my unraveled remains over the cold concrete , my fingers scraping thin , my belly an empty cave now . there do exist pictures of me as a child , a baby . i am shown these . 'oh, what a cute little baby you were! look at those fat cheeks...' i shake my head . no . no that does not exist anymore , that baby decayed and im the rot that is left . i was eaten and chewed apart and drooled back out whatever that baby couldve grown up to be will never exist : i killed it and took its place . im an imposter .. an imposter

i peel my face up from the ground. only one eye opens itself . i can see it now , the object of my affections , my love , my love ... the little door , the little fern beside it . i force my body to move slowly slowly , i cant manage anything better . i smell the damp mold , the rot , the neglect and the soil and the old stale air . im so so in love . im so in love . and im almost to the door

oh and im there , im at the door and i fall to earth in pain. im panting and drooling and cant feel my body , whatever is left of it . i truly am dying , almost dead . i push at the door. it doesnt open but the vibration from my action , my little attempt , shakes raindrops off of the fern and they fall on my face . they fall on the thing that used to be my face .....

the door isnt locked i dont think , but its so warped by moisture , the wood is so puffy , that its stuck . i shoved my shoulder against it , my slippery sad shoulder . god . how could this shoulder have grown from that little baby , how did i become ...

i shove again and again . shockingly there are tears left in my body and i cry. the fern bobs above me . the city moves around me . those monsters in the sky they turn above us all . the air still comes and goes from my lungs , and i can still feel the pain of my failing body . the people of this city , the forces that be , perch invisibly above me , monitoring me . they grab up my brainwaves in their hands , those vultures , those shiftless parasites , they eat up my brainwaves and gather information . i just want to be alone , somehow , let me be alone

the doors groans and pops open, just barely . i rest my face between it and the doorframe , breathe deeply. all is dark and all i have is the smell of soft wood and old air and dust and the rain and the fern lives above me. oh . i am so in love ...

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