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Just a freewrite; Stream of consciousness for the win.
Topic Started: Feb 19 2009, 03:43 AM (28 Views)
Zeus
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Jigga what?
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In the interest of self-preservation, I would like to relay to you a story I was once told. Three years ago, in some remote region of China there was a man who felt nothing less than destiny bade him destroy his hometown. His subtle intricacies and idiosyncrasies had always befuddled the town, and he slipped by life quietly, relatively unnoticed. His hair and beard told stories of years of experience, experience fraught with frustration and pain. His dull eyes sort of ate away at you, whenever he looked into yours. That feeling you would get from him, it was like getting too close to a black hole and feeling your entire body slowly evacuated of everything that made it human. Never a raving lunatic, but never the sane one, the man spoke a thousand words with every step, his body language spilling a tale so chilling and so apparent, all you have to do is watch.

The problem was, no one ever watched. No one ever took the time to see the man, or even bid him any of their attention. People went out of their way to help their friends and family, but this poor, pitiful man was ever overlooked. Void of anything you could call a family, orphaned at a young age, the man had been wandering helplessly in this same town since his preteens. Filing sounds of agony tore his brain to shreds, and the burning screech of death's foul throat was always tearing at his flesh. The man was seemingly calm through all of this, and the world kept on turning.

The man begged and begged and begged, and the world kept on turning. He finally had enough saved up for some dynamite, the world kept on turning. The world kept on turning, until day turned to night, the final night this town, unfortunately, might ever see. The man set charges surrounding the town, and the world kept on turning. The man ignited the charges all at once, and the world kept on turning. The town ablaze, with no one to stop it, and the world kept on turning. The man escaped, unharmed, unfound, the world kept on turning. The story this man's body now tells is one of terror, yet the world keeps on turning. His gait is offensive in its very nature, yet the world keeps on turning. His eyes will tear your soul to shreds if you meet them, yet the world keeps on turning, and no one stops to say, "hello," while his world keeps on burning.
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