Cold and broken, the snows of this land called paradise has sunk towards the gliding faucets of tarantulas that once claimed to be our triumphant heroes.
The courage and valor has been lost, forgotten like the sands of the desert, drifting aimlessly and at a completely uncertain rate.
" ....... " " ..... ............." " What ? I've established myself here in solitude pretending I'm the man who thinks he has discovered a new reality. After what ? After digging a tunnel through the cave that our ancestors dug through millennia ago. What am I now ? Just some lousy baffoon who thinks he has got the wits and privilege to loudly scream out to whoever the reek of tender cow teats is listening to my meaningless grumbles."
Radio plays
Froye: "Hey listen Reach, I've got a favour to ask of you. I don't know when or how you'll scavenge for this lost tape I happened to create at some desperate attempt during this crisis. You must learn of the remaining data that Frederic spoke of, it contains vital information apparently. I don't know how vital, but he says that it's classified for a good reason. Apart from that, friend... we may say our farewells here as there is no certainty to our survival in the incumbent world as we stand."
Reach: " I know.. Froye, I know....... I know !!!!!! HAHAHAHHAHAHAHA !!! I KNOW SO WELL !!!My fantasies, my wretched fantasies of reality; they're too fantastic to be this real. But what kind of fantasy has to be real enough in order for reality to tell us that it's too real to be a fantasy ? Reality doesn't spare a dime on our existence, let alone our passionate and ambiguous fantasies."
As the cold breeze of a dry summer carries on the fauna, that's inside the imagination of this clad of a human whose last contemplation may as well surmise the rest of his functionality, another gale of volcanic flood surrounds proficiently. Tales after tales, rotten flesh after plants and yet again, microbes of the same kind l gnawing on its own pity. The healthy gentlemen carries bow to Zeus of this pandemonium, believing in all the might that's being carried by Atlas and hoping to lean on the weight that's comforting both him and his peaceful alibi.
Reach: " If I wasn't totally insane yet, I would be stupid enough to bear my mind with the number of times I've thrown my corpse into the nectar of rattlesnakes that dwell in my mind, creating these fictitious delusions of a fictitious author who has been fantasizing me back and forth, and vice versa. It's not even the agony of this profundity that makes me chuckle but how I'm still carrying myself forward towards this destination that I thought would finally bring me salvation. Maybe I'll have to believe even if it doesn't matter.... (HAHHHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAH!!!!!!!!!!! EHHEHB AHHHH.....AHH). Oh, how I wish that I could express all that in the language we homo sapiens have created. If I was the author of this story, I' d probably criticise myself for giving the characters too much dialogue. "
YOU ARE READING
A Witty Kind of Lukewarm
Proză scurtăRegular pretentious writing; features my execution of a character succumbing to the annoying strings of reality's simulation. In turn, an attempt to break the 4th wall comes through.
