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Like an Early Autumn

Posted Oct 9, '13 at 12:51am

Nurvana

Nurvana

2,599 posts

Dearest mother,

Good news; the city provides postal service. Funny, because this "service" gives the term an entirely different connotative meaning to me, as I'd only ever heard the word when you complained about the Jaguar "going postal". Now that I'm actually using the service to communicate, the saying just seems silly.
I just want you to know all is going well. I met some friends in the forest (and you said it wasn't safe) who have helped me on my way; they've given me a place to stay and a little money to spend. I'm still trying to find a job, or perhaps something else to occupy my time, but know I am always thinking of you.
The transition from your house to this city has been awe-inspiring. Oh, if you but saw the grande spiraling towers, or the gleaming battlements, or the people. Oh mother, the people. Not to detract from you, of course, or father or the Jaguar, but the cacophony of personality is absolutely wondrous. I really think you'd like it here. Alas, it is a place you cannot find.

I know little now. But I console myself by saying I knew littler while under your watch. That is not a testimony of your parenting, but rather of my own juvenile arrogance. Trust me mother, I am arrogant no more.
I shall send more letters. Like I said, I am always thinking of you, and maybe if you aren't too mad, I may visit again one day. I love you.

Yours always,
Lea.


Return Address: Error/

 

Posted Oct 9, '13 at 8:43pm

jeol

jeol

3,964 posts

Huh, this is pretty great. The development of Lea's character, or at least the ironies in her own statements, make for an interesting style that I find altogether amusing and drawing.

Anyways, I think I am going to reread this a few times, as I can almost taste a certain underlying symbolism or even a simple implication that I didn't catch the first time. Stay strong, my dear infamous rabbit friend. :3

 

Posted Oct 10, '13 at 12:57am

Nurvana

Nurvana

2,599 posts

Thanks very much for your input, Jeol!

Stay strong, my dear infamous rabbit friend. :3


/twitches nose
 

Posted Oct 11, '13 at 3:05am

Nurvana

Nurvana

2,599 posts

Why am I awake?

Nothing frustrates me more than when people don't understand irony. Not just that, but they insist upon misusing it and assuming its phantom meaning. It seems like you can't say anything these days without someone responding "oh, that's ironic." No. No it's not.

But some people mean well. You may say, "I saw a homeless man today. He seemed hungry. Then, on my way back home, I saw him battling another homeless man for a half-eating hummus and locks sandwich." The person with whom you are conversing may remark, "Oh, that's ironic." Because they recognize the continuity in your tone and story, and mistake it cognitively as a contrast, when in fact it is not. Irony is the unexpected. Seeing as the homeless man was hungry, it was very much expected that he'd fight over food, even something as disgusting as a hummus and locks sandwich.

What does an owl have to do to get a drink around here?

 

Posted Oct 11, '13 at 5:21pm

Salvidian

Salvidian

4,299 posts

The situation regarding irony is as insane as the situation regarding literalness. I feel your pain.

 

Posted Oct 13, '13 at 5:19pm

Nurvana

Nurvana

2,599 posts

Life in the City

... doesn't always require a drastic exposition. In this situation, it has already been given.

Walking along the cobblestone streets, marveling as always at the sheer sheerness of the city, Lea was bumped lightly by a passerby and his companion. He was rather faceless, with a normal nose and normal eyes and a normal hat. His counterpart wore a full-length brown cloak with a hood that obscured his face. Lea wondered how the mysterious figure could see his way around.
The man gave no sign of being affected, and continued on his way, remarking to the hooded figure, "Yes. I cannot imagine a more disgusting substance on the planet than cabbage stew. Simply repulsive."
Lea whirled around like an angry dervish, and proceeded to stomp after them and grab the man by the shoulder. She was surprised by her own sudden anger. "Excuse me? Cabbage stew is delicious!"
The man simply laughed, and his counterpart laughed too, muffled by the hood. "You must be joking. Why, anyone who could actually enjoy cabbage stew is nothing but a bumbling simpleton." Lea's face reddened considerably at the insult.
"Well... you're a bumbling simpleton!" Lea nearly screamed, feeling the blood rushing to her head. "Besides, you're never had my mother's cabbage stew!"
"Well, I'd say all evidence points to your mother's cabbage stew being just as undesirable as anyone else's" The man said snidely, then turned on his heel and began walking away. Lea took another step forward, but before she could begin after them again, she was stopped in her tracks. She felt a hand on her shoulder, but when she turned, there was no one there. Turning again, she saw nothing, but instead heard a voice behind her.
"No more tomfoolery. Stop with the loud voices, or there'll be someone to answer to." Lea didn't know why, but she felt a sudden pit in her stomach. As soon as the shadow had arrived, it had disappeared.
As Lea watched the two offenders walk off into the distance, she noticed the trajectory of the cloaked figure's head, and realized dully how they kept on with their face obscured. He, or she, or it, was following the footsteps of the other man, very intently.



*Dully, as in with a dull sensation, as opposed to properly. Although I believe when used in that turn of phrase, it is more commonly (and correctly) spelled "duly", as in "Duly noted".

 

Posted Oct 16, '13 at 11:57pm

Nurvana

Nurvana

2,599 posts

Nothing pains me more than writing out an entire section of the story, then highlighting it and deleting the whole thing. See, I believe I should provide the best for my dear readers...

(echoes) *readers, readers, readers...*

Anyway, I have a basic outline for the story and have a pretty good idea of the direction its going in, but I want to make sure each section is perfect. I'm guilty of overextending sometimes, of trying too hard to use puns or syllogisms to seem clever. But in reality, Like an Early Autumn isn't about that kind of stuff. It's a story. So, after reading my latest entry, I chose to forgo it and try again with more conventional style that resembles the previous entries. Like they say, slow and steady wins the race. ... The literature race.

Also, racecar spelled backwards is racecar.

 

Posted Oct 19, '13 at 11:52pm

Nurvana

Nurvana

2,599 posts

I gave up Mountain Dew a few months ago, because I'd been drinking about four 20 oz bottles a day, and while it wasn't having much of an effect on my physique, it was making me lethargic. So I decided to quit, at the insistence of one of my friends.

I feel like that's got to be a pretty good move. My senior Trig teacher also drank a lot of Mountain Dew, but he was a marine, so that sort of made it even more odd. More odd than what, you may ask? Me. Drinking Mountain Dew as much as I did. I dare not troll the depths of Armor Games to find what you all think is "odd", but where I come from I was drinking an unsettling amount of the stuff. Anyway, he quit, and he was visibly shaking for the first few days afterwards. Funny stuff; when I was a kid my friends and I used to joke about being "addicted" to stuff like sugar and the like, but this man had been taking in so much sugar he was literally suffering a minor withdrawal. Now, he got over it eventually, but I'm not sure that's because he conquered his desires, or just went back to drinking it behind closed doors.

There's been a lot of buildup for the release of The Stanley Parable these last few weeks. I've seen a few people play through the original Half-Life 2 mod, but when YouTube personalities started posting videos of them playing through the independent game, I decided I didn't want to watch; I'd rather wait to buy it myself and see what I thought. But I'd never gotten the parable, so I searched online for an explanation and found a pretty interesting one. I don't remember the website, but basically it stated that the point of the Stanley Parable is that it turns you into Stanley. His job at the office is to push buttons all day and follow the orders that come across the screen, but isn't that just what you're doing, not only while playing the game and obeying the narrator (who is voiced brilliantly, by the way), but when playing any game. It makes you think about the independence one thinks they have in video games, and how a "decision" or "choice" is still sanctioned completely by the gamemakers. I think this is really evidenced in the possible ending where you try to harness the power of the emotion board to control others, at which the point the narrator scolds you for your power trip and blows up the facility. It really calls to mind the question, "who really is in charge? And who is in charge of those who are in charge?" Really interesting topics of thought and conversation. I hope I can play the game soon.

 

Posted Oct 29, '13 at 2:54am

cowmaster1

cowmaster1

700 posts

Nice to see you writing again sir . 'Twas my monthly check in. If I can get anything accomplished, I'll send it your way and may even get it on here. (Legitimate comments on the writing to come later)

 

Posted Nov 2, '13 at 2:31am

Nurvana

Nurvana

2,599 posts

nanowrimo? lol what's that

It would have to wait. Everything could wait, in the grand scheme of things. That's what fills one with a sort of warm excitement, when they make one wait. A girl can make a boy wait, a girl made me (a boy) wait, a girl made yo' boy wait. Mae.

one two three four five one two three four five "Oh, don't get so worked up about it." Mae said with a smile as Lea sunk into the recliner. "The people in this city are crazy, and the people who run it, even crazier, if you could believe such a thing."

"Do I know you?" Lea asked with a frown. Why was this girl in MacDonald's house? Or was it McDonald?
"Darling, I'm much too holistic for a question like that. Just call me Mae, as is, and I'm sure The Cheater will get around to explaining it. He's busy, you see."
"Explain what?" The Cheater said, strolling into the kitchen. He looked a fright, with puffed-out feathers and bags under his eyes. He smelled of mice.
"You smell of mice, your feathered degenerate." Mae sneered.
"Do I know you?"
Mae threw her hands into the air and walked out the door, but not before huffing indignantly in the owl's general direction.
As she stormed out, she passed M(a)cDonald walking the other direction. He watched her go, with more a look of dull surprise than pleasure or amusement.

Pleasure and amusement were not synonymous to McDonald.

"Well, there goes another one." He drawled.
"Of course. And you know what the funny thing about that is?" The Cheater said, looking at Lea with saucer-pan eyes.
"What?" Lea and McDonald said in unison. The Cheater glared at the farmer before continuing.
"She'll never come back."

 
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