#45 - X

Today’s words: Decorated, Dapperling, Assign, Detect

Word count: 573

Completion time: 46 minutes

Summary: A character explains why it’s really not okay to make someone do something they don’t want to, even if it appears to be a really minor thing

I’ve very recently gotten interested in CM Punk who is straight edge, and I've made a friend who is also straight edge, so this sort of happened after I wrote the first sentence of the story.

Disclaimer: Not all straight edge people are this verbally aggressive, this was very influenced by CM Punk clips (a cocky wrestler) and he's supposed to be a bit of an ass.

~

“How’s my decorated dapperling feeling this morning?”

He looked at his sleeve tattoo in the mirror across the room and walked past her to grab his jacket from the back of the computer chair. “One – get out of my room. Two - ‘dapperling’ is another word for a midget.” Both of his arms slid into the black biker jacket with the ‘Drug Free’ patch on the back and he shrugged his shoulders a couple of times. “I’m nearly six feet tall.”

She twisted her mouth and looked at the floor. “Whatever, it rhymed.”

“‘It’s always ‘whatever’ with you.” He tried not to sound pissed but it came out spiteful anyway. “Fuck, like... I don’t like how apathetic you are sometimes, about shit that actually means something to me.” The topic was obviously going to rear its head again, he just didn’t know when.

“Is...is this about the other day?” 

He could detect humour behind her words so he turned abruptly and walked over, standing not one foot in front of her and sizing her up. “You ever pull something like that again and I will leave, I swear. The only reason I’m not? I don’t have any cash to blow on another apartment right now...but I’m not obliged to talk to you, and you certainly don’t have to invite me to one of your ‘nights out’ again.” He backed away slightly and smoothed his hair out in the mirror. “I’ll assign you the role of...NPC.”

Her face creased up. “What?”

“You’re now officially a non-playable character in my life.” He turned towards her again and raised his eyebrows. “I do not have to look at you, talk to you, or pay you any attention whatsoever and everything will remain exactly the same.” A forced smile took up half of his face. “Starting now.” He made a move to leave and make it to the cafe with time to spare.

“What, you’re seriously still mad at me because I gave you a little alcohol?”

His feet stopped walking him to the door and he raised a hand by his head, palm facing out. “I’ll tell you one more time so that when I slap it to your brain it’ll stick...” he spun around, face reddening with frustration, “...I don't drink; what you effectively did on Friday night was give me a big ol’ ‘fuck you’ and a kick in the dick. And,” he laughed loudly, “as if you fucking ‘gave’ it to me, you forced a shot of shit down my throat after I refused and nearly pushed you into the queue behind us!”

“It barely even went down your throat, you big baby!”

“Are you seriously...?!” He made a fist. “You’re telling me that if you didn’t want to do something, eat something, drink something...whatever, and I physically forced you to do it, you’d be okay with that? You’d laugh it off? ‘Ho ho ho, that’s just Chris being Chris, what a joker’? Fuck no. You’d probably punch me in the face or fucking report me!” The anger was starting to fade, replaced by sadness and disappointment. “I seriously thought you were better than that.”

“Hey, I was drunk, I...”

He laughed again and turned away. “Yeah I reeeeeeally need to go, you’re making this situation worse by the second.” As he power-walked down the stairs, he mumbled, “I’m going fucking crazy, talking to an NPC; may as well be talking to myself.”

#44 - It's My Life

Today’s words: Patristic, Ensure, Perfect, Retrieve

Word count: 282

Completion time: 32 minutes

Summary: Choose what to do with your life, not what people tell you

I was the same age as the girl from this story when I was ‘allowed’ to stop attending church by my mother, so I guess it stems from my childhood.

Don't assume that I think religion is stupid or pointless, this is a fictional poem.

~

That day that she came back from church on the Sabbath

She put her scripture bag filled with patristic theology on the floor

And told me that she wanted to create her own religion

She told me she wanted to ensure that ‘perfect’ wasn’t something to be achieved

It was something that didn’t exist

She wanted to embrace ‘imperfection’ and mistakes that can be put right

She looked me dead in the eyes like she wanted to kill a man and said:

“Isn’t it possible to be good without fear of eternal damnation from Satan?”

I anticipated that it was going to be a long one, so I sat down.

“Can it be me who decides what’s good and what isn’t for myself?

I don’t want to follow something that tells me what’s right, I want to make my own right.

I want to say that it’s okay for people to do as they like as long as it’s what they believe,

What they cherish and stand by no matter who says they can’t.

If they do good, their reward will be self-love, not a heaven that may or may not exist.

If they do bad, their punishment will be a sense of failure and disappointment.

Nothing is worse than feeling that you’ve let someone down, and that includes yourself.

I don’t need to be told that I’m going to a place that might not be real just because of the way that I want to live my life.”

She went to retrieve her bag from the floor and when she picked it up, she added:

“My life is no-one else’s, so I’ll do with it what I want.”

She was eleven-years-old.

#43 - Question

Today’s words: Sold, Self, Report, Dusty

Word count: 441

Completion time: 38 minutes

Summary: What’s truth? What counts as good or bad? Who’s right? Who’s wrong?

I had trouble tagging this because it isn't really fiction, a story, or a poem, I just went a little far and started talking about life from my perspective...but it's a great read anyway! In keeping with the blog's title, pretend that the person speaking is fictional.... 

~

Who am I?

Is my ‘self’ made up of what people think of me, or is it what I think of myself?

I guess for me, my ‘self’ is what I think of me, and what other people think of me is how they experience and see my ‘self’.

If everyone I knew was asked to write a report on me and they all thought that I was an asshole, would that make me an asshole, even if I thought that I was a nice person?

That’s how trials work, right? If someone’s found guilty by the jury, they’re sentenced.

Majority rules.

Would I have to prove that I’m not as asshole? What if I couldn’t? Without proof, does the fact only exist as an illusion of truth?

People would have to be sold the idea, a reason to believe in me.

“Because I believe in myself” doesn’t cut it, right?

What reason would anyone have to trust me?

What reason would anyone have not to trust me?

What if I had a visual condition that made me see surfaces as dusty even though other people saw them as clean?

We would both see the exact same surface but in a completely different way.

Who would be right?

Unrealistic situation, maybe...

What about physical attractiveness? I could look at a picture of someone and think they’re drop-dead gorgeous, but someone else could see the same person as ugly.

Who would be right?

Me? Them? Neither?

I’ll settle on neither because those experiences are subjective, just like the idea of me being an asshole.

Moving back to the idea of the law, if I was found guilty because I really did break the law, would that make me a bad person?

Yes, right? Unquestionably yes?

Why?

Who said that breaking the law was bad?

Would I be wrong for breaking the law just because the law says it’s wrong?

People made those rules, people who have the ability to decide what’s wrong and what isn’t, so why were they right?

How did they decide? Because those laws, if broken, would hurt others?

Why is hurting others wrong?

It is, I believe, but why?

Subjective, again? Or objective?

If someone genuinely thought that hurting others wasn’t a big deal, would their view be taken into consideration or would they be wrong for saying that hurting others wasn’t wrong?

What about animals?

People who don’t think that eating animals is wrong, and those that do...who’s right? 

We need proof again, right?

There’s no need to kill animals, so why is this view seen as mostly an okay thing to do?

Why?

Why?

Think about it.

#42 - Perception

Today’s words: Hideous, Maddening, Base, Crocin

Word count: 617

Completion time: 49 minutes

Summary: A person might recall the exact same situation very differently, depending on whether someone complimenting them is attractive or not

I was sitting on a bench by the river, waiting for a few friends to join me so that we could catch a bus into the town centre. There was a slight chill in the air, making me wish that I had brought a cardigan or something, but the thought of walking fifteen minutes home and fifteen minutes back was off-putting for a lazy one like me. 

To take my mind off of it, I focused on a few fluffy ducklings and a mother duck that were bobbing by. ‘I wonder how self-aware ducks are?’ I pondered to myself as the mother dipped her head under the surface and shook her head once she came back up. Once I turned away from the ducks, that’s when I saw him. 

He was standing a few feet away from the bench, looking at me with a faint smile on his face. Quickly looking away, I mumbled an, ‘Oh my god,’ under my breath; for I swear I had not seen true beauty ‘til that day. Double-checking to see if he was real, I almost jumped out of my seat when I saw him walking towards me, not once breaking eye-contact; I was stunned. He looked a little like Jared Leto but with dark, almost black, eyes; his tousled hair matched his eyes, sweeping across most of his forehead; as he smiled, a couple of dimples appeared by his cheekbones; and his teeth were pearl-white, like a movie stars’. 

Heavenly.

Stopping by the bench, he smiled wider and looked down shyly. “I’m really sorry... I just had to come up to you because, you look...” he timidly brought his head up and looked me over, sending shivers all over my body, “...like, really good in that dress.”

A cocktail of giddiness and glee washed over me.

~

I was sitting on my own on a bench by the river, waiting for a few friends to hurry up and join me so that we could catch a bus into town. It was a little cold, which should have definitely made me run home to get a coat or put on some jeans, but the thought of getting up again was off-putting.

To try and take my mind off of the ever-increasing goosebumps, I focused on some grey ducklings and a mother duck that were in the river. ‘Are they as cold as I am?’ I wondered to myself as the mother put her head in the water, shaking her head once she resurfaced. Once I turned away from the ducks, that’s when it happened.

He was standing close to the bench I was on, staring at me with a hideous, maddening smile on his face. I quickly looked away, mumbling, ‘Oh my god,’ under my breath; for I wondered if that day was going to be my last. Double-checking to see if he was still staring, I jumped when I realised that he was almost power-walking towards me. Our eyes locked and it became hard to look away, I was paralysed.  He looked like the base ingredient of a really shitty cocktail – his eyes were never-ending pools of black, like a terrifying abyss with crocin-red threads framing them; his greasy hair stood up at all angles, sticking to his forehead; and as he smiled, he revealed a set of teeth the colour of bright urine.

Horrific.

Lingering by the bench, he grinned and looked down at my legs. “I’m really sorry...I just had to come up to you because, you look...” he looked up, not forgetting to inspect every inch of me as he did so,  making me tremble, “...like, really good in that dress.”

A wave of disgust washed over me.

#41 - Contradictions

Today’s words: Define, Subsidize, Sloven, Suffumigation

Word count: 140

Completion time: 50 minutes

~

I’ve tried to find the right words to define myself before:

Sloven

Over-Excited

Passive

Outspoken

Shy

Sociable

But, like suffumigation,

I produce a lot of traits which define me.

Some mix well together

Some don’t

How is it possible to contradict myself?

How can I be one thing and another

which opposes the initial thing?

The Sims 3 doesn’t allow for conflict

You can’t be lazy and athletic

Childish with a love for children

It’s a virtual impossibility

And how about this:

You can’t be artistic whilst disliking art

But who said you have to love everything you’re good at?

I’m disorganised but when I try,

I’m pretty good at it

If I had someone to subsidize me a little

I’d create a game where the characters

Could be just as messed up and confused

As the rest of humanity

#40 - For Them

Today’s words: Assign, Blurt, Pricey, Zoom in

Word count: 176

Completion time: 24 minutes

Summary: For people who deal with this shit regularly, this is for them. Respect gender identity.

Sidenote (I am aware that not all people who don't conform to one gender are comfortable with 'them'; this is from my experience only)

~

Focus

Zoom in

“Is that a ‘him’?”

You blurt

“Don’t be absurd

That’s a ‘her’.”

A him?

A her?

Ahem

A word?

You look at my friend and see a gender

Something to classify

Scrutinise

I look at my friend and see a human being

Someone worth seeing

Gender or genitalia aside

You assign pronouns of your own

And stare at them like they’re a clown

Something to amuse

Entertain

Please refrain

(It hurts my brain...)

When they say that they prefer neutral pronouns

You look at them like they’ve got flu

and coughed it all over you

“You’re either a boy or a girl, simple.”

It was never that ‘simple’, you tight twat

Never that black and white

Is it too pricey to use ‘them’?

Is that why you refuse?

Tell me

What have you got to lose?

If someone says they’re transgender

Or gender neutral

Or genderqueer

I don’t need to hear

what you do or don’t believe

It’s not about you

It’s about them

This is for them

Now,

Shall we try again?