The Scattered Pieces of My Mask

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    Callisto

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    The Scattered Pieces of My Mask

    Post by Callisto on Tue May 19, 2009 1:54 am

    My mask had not fully developed upon my face, not quite wrapped around my head. It always had peep-holes and flaps where I could look out and see the dreadful world outside my tomb. For many years I had chipped away at this wooden manifestation and cleared away what was covering my ears. I chipped away from the holes to create my vision and went down to relieve my mouth from restriction, removing the splinters which connected my upper and bottom lip. My teeth chattered as the frozen wind seeped through my breathe down into my child-like lungs, I coughed and choked as the acid created a film over my body which crept its way inside. My skin burned and my mouth dried as I took in the true air that filled our planet. I tried to speak as I watched them all stand still, like statues, their stance never changed their act never ceased.

    I could not move either. I was implanted upon a stand that grew within the vines and dirt of this planet. I could only speak to myself. I began to take in what true qualities this Earth portrayed, the hidden mysteries I assumed I only knew. My mind wandered day after day as my body stood frozen as the air on which I floated. Thoughts I could not escape, thoughts I could not deny or refute.

    One day as I thought about life and their statuess qualities, I saw movement far beyond where I stood. This thing was the only thing I’d seen in years of my solitude and I chose not to waste this fortune. The only quality that would be of any use to me at this point was my voice, my words. I inducted thought within this thing and it was entranced within my words, it came to me and we exchanged thoughts and ideas for days and months. It provoked my pain and inner being to come out and play within its realm, showing me my true colors.

    This thing is known as Jesse. He broke out from his tomb awhile back, but he first indulged himself within the human realm and was shown their ways in the highest level. But he couldn’t stand himself in that world doing all the things just to be liked, just for the thrill. He ended up looking straight through his mask and breaking out, crushing the strings that held him on that stage. He fell into the dirt and crashed through to the sludge and worms that plagued the ground causing a new creation to rise up that day. He evolved into something new and chose not to hinder himself in that way again.

    Coincidentally, he found me and we have been chatting ever since. Looking out and seeing all the people trapped in their tombs made me wonder if there was anyone else out there who could see past the mask. Jesse showed me that there is at least one and I don’t plan on forgetting that. We carry the same thoughts and ideas deeply rooted in our souls, we conjure the same opinions just in unique ways. He has only increased my language of this world and challenged the views I once questioned, creating a sharper mind and a defined perspective.

    I broke from the wooden strings which contracted my body to stay within this stage. I released myself from my solitude and disdain to find that there were many others enclosed upon stages. On my stage, there stood four others that I seemed to care for but whom I examined further to have no chips or tears upon their armor which signaled their release from their mind. I left because I know I can’t save them, they can only save themselves, and with that, Jesse and I took to the land beyond us.

    He was the true friend I desperately needed. He revived me from the puppeteer, he revived me from the clones, though he never touched the strings which guarded me. He never attempted to remove my mask. I saved myself from the dreadful clones and re-approaching brainwash that succumbed the others of my kind. His voice displayed both paths, that is all. One path consisted of concrete and cars, buildings all around and day-to-day materialism that took over the kind which lived within its boundaries. The other path displayed a darker side from which Satan and God walked, a path which didn’t exist to the eye, a path with which you split the branches and climb the trees to reach a point beyond your dreams. A point with which is not a limitation, only an end to a chapter and an opening to a new adventure.
    A social path or a lonely path.
    A common path or a rare path.
    A fixed path or a vast path.
    A robot or a being.

    I now trudge alongside Jesse. We strive to adapt and evolve as the world wills us to. We are viral, we are not a bacteria for which you can easily kill. We adapt to what you do and we counter act it as you try so desperately to fight us. We are the invisible hole within your mask the one that becomes visible in your darkest moments. We plant the seed that fills your thoughts and echoes upon your mask. You only have to listen and then you chose which path suites you.
    Either regress or progress.
    Revolve or evolve.
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    Trevlac
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    Re: The Scattered Pieces of My Mask

    Post by Trevlac on Tue May 19, 2009 2:01 am

    MORE. MORE NOW. RIGHT FUCKING NOW MORE.

    MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.

    HOLY FUCKING COCK I WANT MORE.

    I CAME.

    MY JAW IS HANGING OFF MY FACE.

    WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS? MORE


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    Re: The Scattered Pieces of My Mask

    Post by Toothpick on Tue May 19, 2009 2:17 am

    Parts of that were pretty, but I found it slightly lacking in narrative and focus. Apparently, it's a sort of story/poem, and I'll make some allowances for that and all, but you have to be careful mixing the vagueness and brevity of the poem with the fine, watch-like craftsmanship of the short story.
    I'd like to see more of these characters, know more, figure out what makes them tick, and I'd like to see you flex your linguistic muscles mit GUSTO!!!111!!
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    Re: The Scattered Pieces of My Mask

    Post by Ordin on Tue May 19, 2009 9:39 pm

    you can't write a bunch of forced metaphors, express one metaphor with another, and reuse the same metaphors to death, and expect it to be interesting or even draw in a reader. instead it turns into a coagulated mess and reads like a dictionary. davis is infatuated with you, and blake goes too easy on people, so it looks like i'm gonna have to give the real criticism.

    we explored nothing of the two characters, or even got to understand whether they were human or not. if the story is to be taken at face value, we are introduced to a race of strange beings encased in wooden cocoons who can somehow will themselves out of their cage even though they can't move, but only if they really want to? once free of their cocoons, i understand, they are able to partake in human activities, without so much as a "shit dude, you're some sort of freaky insect who taught yourself perfect english and thinking skills even though you lived in total solitude out in the middle of fucking no where!"

    of course, i understand that the story isn't to be taken at face value, and even after you hack your way through a jungle of extremely vague analogies you only find yourself with a tiny morsel of thought that you've probably dwelled on a time or hundred prior anyhow. extremely unsatisfying.

    you took the run-on, rhetorical question "some people are robots, people like me can think better than others, Jesse is a dude who taught me how to think after i taught myself how to think?" and frilled it up into nigh-incomprehensibility.

    lose the fluff or write a poem, don't attempt both, because you're succeeding at neither.


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    Re: The Scattered Pieces of My Mask

    Post by Toothpick on Tue May 19, 2009 11:47 pm

    (tremelo)Aaaaaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwwwk-waaaaaaaaard(/tremelo)
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    Re: The Scattered Pieces of My Mask

    Post by Trevlac on Wed May 20, 2009 12:10 am

    That was the best bullshit criticism ever.


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    Re: The Scattered Pieces of My Mask

    Post by Ordin on Wed May 20, 2009 7:12 pm

    it wasn't bullshit. i was being serious. it hurt to read.


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