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Setting.

 

There’s a lot of places this story doesn’t take place. It doesn’t take place back home where you grew up. Not in the family house or the old neighborhood downtown where you stood around on the streets as a teenage kid. So if your expecting to run into old friends or the parents of childhood lovers or the old lady from down the block forget about it. There will be no reminiscing of that sort here. If your feeling sentimental open your scrapbook, not this book. Likewise it doesn’t take place anywhere you wanted the stories to take place when you closed your eyes and tried to imagine interesting things happening in places that were more important. Its not New York or L.A. or anywhere you thought was big in America. Its not in any place you carted to move to in the old world, or the older world before that. If you have thought about it much, you ought to have figured out that all that’s bullshit anyhow. The sophisticated culture of your ancestors and the exotic tribal purity of the ancient is just as much s**t as the so called American that has been bubbling over the boarders and tainting the rest of the world like a science fair volcano made of vinegar and baking soda and red food coloring. A throwback to science fairs before computers. And if you want me to tell you where it is instead of just telling you where it’s not well here it is. Its all in your head, just like everything else. What, were you expecting somewhere new?

 

Style

 

If you have got a problem with my lack of style you can attribute it to whats left of my mindless rebellion from my own childhood. Back when I hated it all but never knew why. When I detested authority but never stopped to think of a reason why I ought. Spitting in the face of anybody who would look at me just to be sure I didn’t miss somebody who deserved it. Refusing to accept any of the good because I thought it was all tainted with the bad just from being real. Sure, now I have new rebellions. I have new mistrust and skepticism of everything above mentioned, but it’s a new kind. A rational rebellion. And I don’t hate anything anymore. But still, there is the last little dregs of my thoughtless rebellion somewhere in the background. It still adds a hint of taste to everything. Like the dried ring of coffee in the bottom of my cup, I never wash it and now the water tastes a little weird. So as I refused it all then, some if it I still refuse. Like learning style and grammar and spelling. Then again, maybe I just don’t have the patience span to backtrack now. Life is just one long run on sentence anyhow.

 

Characters

 

The characters in this story are nobody important. I may not evan bother to mention them. I mean, its just a story isn’t it. I have never understood art very well, but I’m told that its all about what it makes you feel. So what the hell do you care what a bunch of made up nobodys have to say about anything. Skip all that s**t and just get to the point. Life is short, somebody told me that too.

 

 

 

Theme

 

Well I guess I cant bullshit my way much farther threw this thing. Run threw half the important aspects of a story and haven’t said a thing. So now your wondering, what’s this all about then? You got a story that’s all in your head, lacking in characters, written without style. What is it? Maybe its your story, but probably, not. If it turns out to be then you should probably quit while your ahead, you’ll know the f*****g thing better than I could anyhow. Its probably my story though, which would really make quite a lot more sense being as that I am the one rambling on and on here. So lets go with that. Its my story. The story of some things that happened to me and the hardship and adversity I had to overcome. Now doesn’t that sound interesting. Only I never did overcome it. Because this aspect of the thing is only in my head. I never did have to struggle much. That’s the problem with being born white, male, middle class and first world. Nothing ever goes wrong. Nothing real anyway. We over privileged types have got entirely too much time on our hands without any challenges. But mankind -ya, mankind, I still have a problem with PC, so maybe it’ll be human kind by the time we are finished here- mankind and probably all the animals with a brain worth mentioning are designed to thrive against adversity. That’s what’s supposed to drive us forward, to keep us thinking, to give us character and definition. People with nothing to worry about, well, we have to make some s**t up or else we find ourselves, well, boring. And there we find some serious dissonance because we are the head of the pack. That’s not gonna work.

 

So that’s what this story is about, the made up problems of people who have nothing to worry about. I guess it might be your story after all.

 

 

 

Plot

 

So now lets get down to it then. To start I’ll tell you about how good all the central characters are, together we’ll spend some time developing a relationship. Some rapor and a few emotional ties. How’s that then? Its just me and you here so already we must be close. You love yourself because we all do, and if you hate yourself its just because your disappointed in all the wasted love. And as for me, well, I’m not even a real person am I? Just pages and pages of words rambling on. Talking and talking until I make myself real. Well, I’m not, so don’t bother wasting your love here either.

 

Now that we’ve gotten that taken care of, lets get to the conflict of the tale; every things gone wrong. Oh no! you say. Not that, what harrow! What strife! Let me consult the thesaurus… Ah yes! What trouble! What torment! What bother! What pain! And yes, now, in the height of all this, comes in our hero; Reality! No, he has no lines in this story, but he’ll save the day anyhow. He shows up onto the scene, in the midst of the chaos and promptly commences being subjective. Translation: not real either. And just like that everything is well again, for there is no right to set things to, and there is no wrong to be done here. Rest easy now, because now without right and wrong to worry about, and no characters to speak of, no loose ends to tie up, we’re back to just me and you. And yo may recall, I’m not real either. So its just you, alone in your head again. So much for escape threw literature. Isn’t life as such. Just a long un-stylized run-on sentence in your head. Guess this was a waist of time then wasn’t it.