21 Deaths: Expiration Date – Introduction

Everyone had one. They were cheap, they were hip, and the marketing department had made sure that no demographic had gone unattended. They were also small, portable and they really took advantage of the paranoia sweeping the country. It came in seventeen different colors and five different sizes. It came with a big display for people with bad sight, and it displayed the info in almost any language. If you preferred, you could choose to keep it in English. It caused no harm to the environment, not that anyone cared, and no one complained of any discernable side effects.

It had become an easily adoptable fashion now that everyone knew that eventually, the world would come to an end. Apparently our world, just like any product, had an expiration date.  Once it reached that date, all humans who were still alive would immediately move on to limbo and await judgment. Limbo, however, could look quite similar to the previous stage of existence and so there existed the possibility that no one would notice. It had been the discovery of a young scientist who was now becoming quite the celebrity, but it was the idea of a young entrepreneur to actually find out the date and manufacture bracelets that would let everyone know the exact moment the earth expired. For the longest time, every bracelet in the world just displayed the word “NO”.

Advertisements

Non Story Content

It’s hard not to wonder if people in ancient times had strong depression attacks. I mean, you look at the list of writers who committed suicide and it’s really no wonder. I don’t mean to say that I fit in with Ernest Hemingway, but i like to consider myself a writer. Nevetheless if everyone in the world felt this lonely all of the time, the suicide rates would go through the roof. People would be dropping dead left and right, jumping off buildings, standing in front of trains, shooting themselves in the head, etc. So i think it’s really alright that not everybody is this lonely.

So you know, shit happens. The ways you deal with the shit defines your everyday attitude towards the world, or rather, your attitude when you’re alone. When you’re with people, if you’re like me, you’ll just put on a motherfucking imaginary mask and glow in the dark.

.

It’s 12:06 AM, and I’m getting no sleep.

I feel my life is like a white canvas

I want to follow my dreams

I don’t want to fall into my nightmares

Everything is so hard

Everything is so hard

I’m tired of everything

I’m tired of school, of music, of manga, of friends and family, of movies and plays.

I’m tired of waking up and sleeping.

I’m tired of smoking and drinking.

I’m tired of liking a girl.

I like a girl.

She does not seem to be interested.

I often wonder why she is not interested.

I often wonder if she is actually interested, but is just too shy to say it.

I want a girl.

I want a cute girl who knows everything but says nothing.

I want a nice girl with a nice normal family.

I want a happy girl who knows that being cheery does not mean being immature.

I desperately want a girl.

I want to play music.

I want to play beautiful music, and impress the girl.

I want to be special.

I want to be just like everybody else.

I want people to notice that I’m just like them.

I want everything to be easier.

Everything should be easier.

I’m tired of things being hard.

I’m tired of everything requiring hard work or talent.

I want to go out with a girl.

I want that girl to see that I’m special.

I want that girl to see that I’m not like other boys.

I don’t want to be like other boys.

I want people to read what I write.

I want people to care about me.

I want people to care about how I’m doing.

I want people to talk to me.

I want people to talk to me.

Please talk to me.

Please tell me you care.

Please.

I love you.

All of you.

I think you’re wonderful.

Please love me back.

Please love me back.

I want to kill myself.

I want to convince myself that everything will pass.

I want everything to pass.

I want to keep saying that everything will be alright.

I want to smile at my future.

I want a future.

I would like a past too.

I want a present.

Most of all, I want a present.

Please be my present.

Please be my present.

Please love me back.

I want to look at her pictures.

I want her pictures.

I want to be in her pictures.

Hugging.

Kissing.

Smiling.

Posing.

I want to be special.

I want to be with someone special.

I want your sadness.

Give me your sadness.

Give me your happiness.

Ask me about what I like.

Tell me what you like.

I want to know you.

I want to give you presents.

I want you to give me presents.

I want to be your present.

I would like to be your future.

I can’t be your past.

But, there’s plenty of time left.

There’s plenty of time left.

I want to hug you.

I want to kiss you.

Please let me hug you.

Please let me kiss you.

I don’t want to be frustrated anymore.

I want to go out with you.

I want to go out with you.

I want to walk with you.

Spend time with you.

Hold your hand.

Kiss your cheek.

Sit next to you.

Write about you.

Write to you.

Talk to you.

I want you.

I want you to want to talk with me.

I want you to want to go out with me.

I want you to call me.

I want you to kiss me.

I want you to fall in love with me.

I want you to fall in love with me.

I want you to kiss me.

So kiss me.

The mirror

Thomas always said that the real charm was in knowing how it was going to happen.

War could reach you; you might be caught in a car accident, your face disfigured to the point of being unrecognizable; you could catch an incurable disease.

The real charm was in knowing how it was going to happen.

 

David walked into the store. One of those stores in which every article has a story to tell, and every story you’ve ever heard has an article that is in some way bonded to it. It was in that store that David saw the mirror for the first time.

 

The first owner of the mirror had been a poor man. It had been a gift from a friend. Back then it was just a normal mirror, a gift from a friend, a commodity. A decoration he hung on his house, as a sign of appreciation.

One night, the poor man came home drunk. He found an eviction notice in his door, his dog dead in the front of his house and a note from his wife saying she had run away with her ‘true love’, and to never come looking for her again. He came into his house, and flicked the lights on. The light bulb flickered, flashed for a millisecond, and died out. It was then, in that moment of sheer illumination, that the poor man saw it. The mirror, or rather, what was reflected in the mirror.

 

The second owner of the mirror had been a rich man. It had been a gift from his wife. His wife had bought it from a state auction, from a house that had just been repossessed. To him it was just a normal mirror, a gift from a lover, one more thing to own. A decoration he hung in his dressing room, to see how he looked in the mornings.

One night, the rich man came home late. He found his house thrashed, his five dogs slashed to bits in his backyard, and her wife dead in the living room, a big hole were her right eye was supposed to be in. He ran into his house, desperately trying to find who had done this. He rushed into his dressing room, to grab his revolver, and flicked the lights on. The light bulb flickered, flashed for a millisecond, and died out. It was then, in that moment of sheer desperation, that the rich man saw it. The mirror, or rather, what was reflected in the mirror, and it smiled back at him.

 

The third owner of the mirror had been a woman. It had been it had been a gift from his boyfriend. He had apparently found it lying on the street one day on his way to work, and decided to pick it up. To her it was just a normal mirror, a random occurrence in someone else’s life, a less-than –charming detail. A decoration she hung in her bathroom, because she previously had no mirror.

One night, the woman came home normally. She had been promoted at work, finished paying-off her mortgage and the man that she loved had finally asked to marry her. She pranced into her house, overflowing with happiness. She undressed in her bedroom and walked into her bathroom to remove her make-up, and flicked the lights on. The light bulb flickered, flashed for a millisecond, and died out. It was then, in that moment of sheer positivity, that the woman saw it. The mirror, or rather, what was reflected in the mirror, and she froze.

 

The poor man hung himself.

The rich man shot himself.

The woman was never found again.

 

After that the mirror had been sold to the owner of the store, and was know sitting in front of David, showing him his reflection. The store owner said no one really knew what the mirror showed to all those people, or why it had showed it to them. It was all probably an urban legend, he said.

 

So, David bought the mirror, as a joke to a friend. He took it home, polished it, and called Thomas. Thomas arrived that night, and David told him the story of the mirror. They laughed at the incredible story the shop-owner had probably made up. They drank wine and changed the subject. Then, David took the glasses to the kitchen, and the lights flickered.

 

David came back to the living room, where Thomas was sitting, staring at the mirror. David asked what the matter was. Thomas did not answer. David asked if he had seen it. Thomas did not answer. David asked what it was that Thomas saw.

 

Thomas said that the real charm was in knowing how it was going to happen.

Thomas always said that the real charm was in knowing how it was going to happen.

War could reach you; you might be caught in a car accident, your face disfigured to the point of being unrecognizable; you could catch an incurable disease.

He said everyone knew it would happen one day. The real charm was in knowing how it was going to happen, and once you knew, you realized nothing you did would change it. If nothing else was written, that was. It made you feel insignificant, and useless, and hopeless.Yes, he had seen it. David asked if he would be okay. Thomas said yes, it was not time yet. David looked at the mirror with horror, and in that moment of sheer hopelessness, the lights flickered.

Imagine Further

Imagine Further

Where are you?

You are in a city.

People are walking around you.

Not from you, not towards you, but around you.

Imagine Further

Can you touch them?

Can you talk to them?

They’re not flinching.

Are they purposefully ignoring you?

Imagine Further.

Shout, Scream, cry for help.

Hit them, punch them, kick them.

What does it mean?

What does it all mean?

Imagine Further.

She’s here.

The girl you were expecting is here.

Is she the one you were waiting for?

Are you the one she’s here to see?

Imagine Further.

She’s holding your arm.

You can’t tell, but you’ve fallen in love with her.

What does she smell like?

What is her hair like?

Imagine Further.

“Are you ______” she asks.

Well, are you?

Are you the one she’s been looking for?

Is she the one you want?

Imagine Further.

Where are you?

You’re in the roof of the building.

You’re not alone.

Who is that?

Imagine Further.

It’s a man, with short dark hair.

He’s wearing a mask.

The mask is smiling.

He must be smiling too.

Imagine Further.

He’s pointing to the edge.

He’s looking at you.

He’s pointing to the edge.

He wants you to jump.

Imagine Further.

You can’t control yourself.

You’re moving towards the edge.

You can’t control yourself.

Why are you doing this?

Imagine Further.

“Why are you doing this?”

You shout at the man.

“Me? I’m not doing anything”

“It’s been you this whole time”

Imagine Further.

The man is gone.

You’re wearing a mask.

You’re walking towards the edge.

You can move freely now.

Imagine Further.

Jump.

Feel the wind.

Smell the Wind.

Does it smell like her?

Imagine Further.

Grab the wing.

Hold it inside.

Sprout some wings.

Can you fly?

Imagine Further.

Catch the Wind.

Take to flight.

Find her waiting.

She has blond hair.

Imagine Further.

Wake Up.

Is she gone?

Is he gone?

Are you still there?

New World – Part 1

Made listening to Falling Down – Oasis.

Welcome to the New World. I won’t tell you my name. It is not necessary. This world is just the shadow of what it used to be. I am just the shadow of what I used to be. As I walk this barren land of hopelessness and despair, I wonder how this all came to be. They say God walked away from us since the sun stopped shining. I used to say that the Sun was not god…I’m not so sure anymore.

To my left the Doctor is trying to save Alice. He knows he will fail, but his hope seems undying. “Hope dies last” is what they say, but to the Doctor, Alice dies last. His hands upon her, his eyes with that dying flame of concentration. He pushes and pulls, but he knows it’s all for naught. Alice’s eyes are closed as in recognition of her destiny. It’s her destiny to die. In the grand scale of things, we are all destined to die, one after the other, or one before the other.

Mark knows he won’t be able to play baseball anymore. The field is slowly crumbling away. In small pieces, the home plate disappears into the darkness below. He can’t make up his mind about this being the end or the beginning, just like everyone else. The once live tree he used to play under is now a black hand desperately grasping the air above. We are all grasping for air. Since the trees died we have all had a hard time breathing. Our once pure air is gone now. For all we know, money cannot be compared in value to a pure gasp of oxygen.

Jonas went mad, or at least we think he went mad. His laughter seems out of place in this constant reminder of our black present. Thinking back on it, the insane were the only sane ones in the world. “It’s unavoidable” he used to say. I should have believed him when I had the chance. It’s too late now. I know this, and Jonas knows this. My path has now turned into a corridor. The ground surrounding my walk is broken and falling into the earth.

I don’t know how far I have walked now, but I don’t think I’ll be able to walk much further. I found God in one of the forgotten cities that I passed along the way. I sat and talked to him. I asked him why he had given up on us. He just smiled and played his music box. I said “If you won’t save me, please don’t waste my time”. Now I am standing in the middle of a cliff. The ground around me has died. I extend my wings and fall into the endless abyss.

Holding on to the mountain I see a naked child. His dark hair flies in the dead wind. I take him in my arms and fly upwards. I set him down near one of the destroyed houses. He looked at my eyes, and I knew he was looking directly at my soul. I covered him with my coat, even though I know that it does not matter. No one cares if you’re naked or clothed anymore. He looked at me and asked “Could you tell me where I am?” I thought of my answer, until I found the appropriate words.

Welcome to the New World.

Fairly Obvious

When I close my right eye, I see everything differently. I see stars and trees and ghosts. My mind imagines faster, makes up more stories. I think frequently about swords, wings and love. When I close my left eye, I see everything differently. I see gray and dull. Suddenly everything looks grim and hopeless. I think frequently about death, pain and dust. When I close both eyes I see nothing.