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Pineappleystuff 2004-06-01 15:26

The importance of punch...
 
a short story written by me in regards to a certain Sean person. robert know who. this is how he made me feel, manifested into fiction. Adrian said it was lovely and astounding and made him think but that just adrian. now tell me your opinions.
______________________________________________________

The Importance of Punch.
By Whitney Tracy




I hated him. I could not pull myself away from him. It felt so good to hate him and be angry with him. Often, it was like he deserved to be hated. Even after he left for good, I would still be shouting at the walls. I rue the day I met him, yet, somehow I reminisce about it whenever I’m not fuming about someone else.
In my lovely little loft in my lovely little town, I was rather lonely. I held a grudge or two against the people that had done wrong against me, namely everyone, but I never publicly expressed my animosity. I worked long hours at the local Kroger and as people passed through my lane I slapped on a smile that stung. I was pretty much numbed against the initial sting when he came through my lane.
He was different than any of the frequents. He didn’t buy anything unusual, he was just different. He sulked and sauntered at the same time. The man carried himself with the sarcastic cynicism of a whore but with the solemnity of cadaver. We all have seen those celebrities that instantly make anyone feel joy and utter satisfaction with a glance. Just the same, there are those that stir antipathy and boil unsavory emotions like near-burnt macaroni and cheese. Well, he reminded me of over-cooked, watered-down EZ-Mac with essence of anchovy. He was happy. So cheerful, as if he was mocking joy itself. He was begging to be hated to me.
Still I held my fake smile that made me look like I had too much botox. He smiled back and we shared a deeply superficial conversation. It went like this:
Him-“How’s the weather?”
Me- “Pardon?”
(I wasn’t paying attention, I was too busy trying to keep my face taut)
Him- “I said, how’s the weather?”
Me- “Why are you asking me? There’s a window over there.”
(He laughed at this, I scanned the milk.)
Him- “Sorry. What’s eating you?”
(I don’t understand why he was talking like he knew me.)
Me- “ Nothing, Paper or plastic?”
Him- “It was nice talking to you.”
Me- “ Uh-huh, yeah. Buh-bye. Have a nice day, sir.”
Then he left.
2 weeks later, I got a call from him. He wanted to meet up and go out. I said no. I asked him how he got my number and he said he had read my name tag at the Kroger and he looked me up in the Yellow Pages. I told him I wasn’t listed. He said “Buddha doesn’t like liars”. I hadn’t been anywhere lately besides work so we went out for lunch. What could go wrong? Nothing.
So we went to Cinnabon and got to know each other. Strangely, I felt myself attracted to this dead thing with the incessant smile. I could talk to him and relate to him. The shock of finding someone, or rather being found by someone like that appalled me. My whole life, I was alone and I refused to let anyone break through my walls. I was enraged at the fact that I had to exist in such a disgusting, vile place like Earth. Then this crazy dead mouse sneaked into my fortress and was eating up my precious storage of hate that was my only weapon, my only cover-up for my misery. Suddenly I found that, I had fallen for the bastard hippie and my life would fall apart if I kept him any longer.
I started coming up with excuses to get out. I couldn’t let love make me soft. I told him I found his empty bottles under my couch, even though we both knew full well that he abhorred drinking. I shouted at him and tried to get him to be angry back at me, but it never worked. He always just apologized for what I said he had done and gave me a hug.
One morning he left for work after more of my random accusations. I had enough of him! My hatred for everything came flooding back into me in tsunamis. I hated everything more now. I hated with all my strength. I hated him for his peaceful eyes, his immaculate skin, his eloquence, and his mouth! From his mouth he sprinkled little bits of affection and when he opened it wider in defiance, it poured logic and philosophy and chilling composure like fruit juice that stagnated on my carpet.
He came home later to find me seething and fuming and a total wreck. I had smashed everything I treasured my whole life. His stupid philosophies had drained all meaning from material possessions. Heirlooms filled with the sweetness of time and good memories began to stink. Furniture was over turned and my face burned with the unfamiliar persecution of tears. He looked at me and said “ So you finally gave up?” I was looking at a bee stuck in the lamp above my head and I felt for it. For once I actually felt sympathy for something. I wanted to be compassionate to the lesser being, but that would show softness. He followed my eyes. He said, “Or were you trying to get rid of a pest, of something that has been coaxing you away from your tribulation that you hold so dear? Poor little bug.”
I couldn’t take it.
I gripped the gun.
Prayed it was loaded and it would bring me deliverance.
My savior.
I pulled the trigger. He was gone. Finally I could be free from that which was going to show the world who I was inside. Tender, little clam. Me. I wasn’t rid of him though. I was always reminded of how I was too weak to love by the juice stagnating on my carpet.

_____________________________________________________________


what did you think?

:scatter:

dying-oath 2004-06-02 11:14

Funny.................and all this time I thought they didn't have Kroger in Germany. Very morbid, descriptive, sounds-like-something-you-would-get-in-a-forward, whatever.
Glad you're back.

Soulinsane......YOU'RE WELCOME

Def 2004-06-02 12:14

nice.

but thats not a short story, that took me some time to read :)

Pineappleystuff 2004-06-02 15:42

naw. they don't have kroger's here. but it's fiction again it doesn't relate anything to my life except for emotions. i just thought of a random breed (yes breed) of grocery store.

sorry...i thought it was short.

what's you're fave few lines?

dying-oath 2004-06-03 10:35

two favoritest lines "Suddenly I found that, I had fallen for the bastard hippie and my life would fall apart if I kept him any longer." and "The man carried himself with the sarcastic cynicism of a whore but with the solemnity of cadaver."
this is about Dowdy right? the little fag. I hate that kid. he called me at ten at night and didn't care when i told him never to do it again. he also....yeah, all that stuff. I still want to torture him (see "The Torture Chamber") I think he would deserve everything in there.

ShredIsNotDead 2004-06-03 18:52

That was one wicked rhyming scheme

Pineappleystuff 2004-06-04 02:06

Quote:
Originally Posted by ShredIsNotDead
That was one wicked rhyming scheme




it ryhmed? where?

dying-oath 2004-06-04 08:17

I'm thinking it had an ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ rhyming scheme. am I right?

Pineappleystuff 2004-06-04 10:24

eactly man exactly. luscious.

Transient 2004-06-04 13:11

everypost she makes is so random it makes me cringe. it doesnt help that english isnt her first language, so its twice as hard to figure out what the hell she means

ShredIsNotDead 2004-06-05 00:50

Quote:
Originally Posted by dying-oath
I'm thinking it had an ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ rhyming scheme. am I right?


i dont know but the flow was magnificent

Soulinsane 2004-06-05 01:52

Thanks d-o! This is why I like you Applish, you write beautifully. You have wonderful self-awarness and insight to right like this. The theme and structure have soul. It's the best thing I have ever read on this forum. You put everything in it that needs to be there, even if it doesn't make since on the surface to others. All the pieces are their to put together something for ourself, no more and no less. A++A+A+A+, I love it :D

Transient 2004-06-05 08:07

soulinsane is one positive guy, the only person ive seen him get mad at was nothingbutassface

dying-oath 2004-06-05 08:47

Transient, You're a not accepting little bitch.

Transient 2004-06-05 10:52

what do you mean?

dying-oath 2004-06-05 18:38

think about it, all i've heard you say is that you don't like all the randomness, even though she's the only one that talks about actually nice things, and not things that make us think about death and doom. open up dude. be more accepting.

Transient 2004-06-05 18:50

?
im not negative. my posts might seem like that, but i havent posted any lyrics ive written or anything...nor am i all about death and doom

and her random shit is kind of irritating

ShredIsNotDead 2004-06-06 12:31

shes not random what are you talking about :rolleyes:

Bahahah you have 633 posts transient :eek:

Transient 2004-06-06 13:24

yep, post whoring it up

but i dont post just for the number

ShredIsNotDead 2004-06-06 13:26

yes it comes straight from your heart :love:


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