Love, It's All You Will Ever Need

Or so they always told the little girl. Unhappiness doesn't need to be solved by you, they said. He will come. He will complete you. All you need to do is wait. Don't strive, don't aspire, what would be the point? He is coming.

So she did. She listened and did nothing. Contented in her bower, she sat and thought about Him. What would he look like, she wondered? Will he be beautiful? Will he be kind? Will he really make everything else fade, not matter?

But this could only take her so far. Bored with the limitation of a single Him, she moved beyond.  She conjured up wisps that formed into stories. Stories of companions, of journeys, of distant landscapes that were as far from her prison as she could escape to. Bright as moonlight, the wisps grew large in the reflections on her open eyes and whisked her away. Glitzy balls she attended. With glittering dragon’s fire did she warm her hands. On stars she reclined and watched the antics of dancing planets. The rabbit with the monocle, the bear with the crown, and the lion with its fierce roar, bosom confidantes, laughed with her when she was hopeful and held her when she was wracked with sobs.  

They locked her away, you see. Too fragile, they whispered. She will break, crushed upon the twisted spikes of reality. Too weak, they breathed. Incapable. Inexperienced. Powerless. Worthless, like a porcelain doll. Insidiously, these thoughts crept and crawled, inching their way towards her. They oozed and they dribbled inky darkness. Stealthily, the words slithered through her as she lay dreaming about the rescue that was promised.

One by one, the words squeezed into her ears, contorting themselves to fit. Soon, they filled her and left room for nothing more. One by one, the wisps began to fade. First the sweeping mountains, oceans, and forests dimmed into nothingness. Then the stars twinkled out, shut off as if a switch had been flipped. One by one, the night went dark around her. As she cried out in alarm, grasping first for the fierce lion, he was already turning transparent, his roar drifting further and further away. She whipped towards the rabbit but he too was waving a slow goodbye as he blended into the bed frame. Finally, with its arms wrapped tight around her, the bear’s warmth started to seep into bitter cold. With her eyes wide open, she stared blindly around her room.

They forgot about her, you see. He never came. Locked up in the dust, in the worn, she sat where she had been left. The world didn’t break her, you see. They did. 

 

This is a story I wrote and shared on this site called hitRECord. This site is the brainchild of Joseph Gordon Levitt and I've very recently (today) become involved. 

Hit RECord 

If you want to contribute or even heart it, just search Cicinator or, even more simply, click here:

My hitRECord site 

Hope you enjoyed it!

Also, here is a phenomenal talk by Elif Shafak, a Turkish writer, about the power of fiction:

Elif Shafak

She has the most fascinating views. 

Evolution Redux: A Story of Moldy Bread

Since I'm waiting for some statistics to download for my perceptions of Africa paper, I thought I'd take this opportunity to write my entry for the day. Not much of humorous note has taken place within the last 24 hour period, so I'll just focus some more on photography! I've been experimenting with filters and different settings on the camera and in order to make this process a little more interesting, I'll tell a little story alongside the pretty pictures. Here are a series of shots of the growing world that sprang from a single loaf of bread:

Notice that there are basically two main spheres of growth. From a distance they look like googly eyes! I imagine that were we to shrink, they would either be giant whirlpools of a churning maelstrom or bogs and forests filled with varieties of woodland sprites. Notice that the majority of the world is brown and would likely be deserts and giant canyons. The plastic enclosing the bread-world is the atmosphere. As the maelstrom rages and the forests and bogs continue to grow and produce liquid, cloud formations begin to form, further fermenting the living organisms within. Thus far, the only gods that exist are pagan, and centered around natural formations such as water and earth and green growth, e.g. the woodland sprites.

Now, fast forward two weeks our time (a few million years bread-world time) and see the changes that have taken place. The atmosphere is now fully formed with traces of regular rain storms and climate cycles seen in the droplets of water.  The world is now completely green and prosperous, without arid land to hinder agricultural growth. However, as seen from the first picture, an evil force has taken over the land, and that being's name is Sauron, the villain from The Lord of the Rings Trilogy. You can see his evil yellow eye staring malignantly out from the beleaguered world. He has clearly claimed the entire world as his own and harnessed the woodland sprites to his bidding.

Alas that this world rest beyond both hope and redemption. It grows worse daily, the pure green now diluted and warped by a sulfurous yellow that chokes the life from the once bountiful land. There is only one way to handle this situation: put this world out of its misery and destroy Sauron once and for all. So, a hero was called forth from among the dying masses. It was she, the magnificent mistress of trash, who took control of her fate and the fate of all the worlds. She banished the evil being and exiled her own land into the gaping, stinking abyss in which they would be trapped for all eternity.

Through her sacrifice, the rest of the universe is now safe.

Well, I hope you enjoyed my story, I got a nice chunk of procrastination out of the way!