Ringo arrives to the rave…
Tag: fiction
aSoSS 31 | Paradox
[pointing to a bag of psychedelics] You laugh at me but you support it. Look what happens when you support it!
UniQue T-Shirts, 1:30PM, 10/16/2024
your face turns, a sunflower in september. a starburst of seven streams, blending together, repelling, intertwining. you grab my hand but i am already gone, a trip distilled into its core emotions. a fairytale nightmare, a frontal lobe stunned, or stunted, only time will tell. an infection, a parasite, a host and a contestant–the grand prize a great flood, for better or for worse? the earth swirls and sloshes. mud becomes bronze becomes clay becomes tar. i am trapped, anchored to a moment, watching the world spin forward without me, the present freezing into the past. i watch the drops of sanity peel from my skin, feel the beads of blood coalesce beneath my tongue–a ribbon, a pulse, a dream.
Like, I get it! Harassing me is only gonna make me want to vote less, you know…
East Quad, 6:30PM, 11/5/2024
we are always running to a graveyard or an office or a sunset that we will never reach. why would you take a golden ticket for granted? keep duties away from indifference. your voice, silenced, cut like a stem, put on display–oral histories drying up in your parched throat–and for that i mourn your loss, your vowels sharp as the glass that imprisons it, the enamel behind your teeth ground away like whetstone. this is your fault, your victimhood, your desire. we have split the atom and put it back together, you and i. it hurts to breathe, but we breathe anyway.
I need to lock in but the minute I get home… the minute I see my bed…
Chem Building, 9:00AM, 11/6/2024
wake up, you’re going to be late. now is your chance to tell your story. see the camera? smile and wave. your achievements are not interchangeable; your memories are not replaceable. you’re scared? i don’t care. everything that can go wrong might go wrong. life is full of might-go-wrongs, it’s how we built the pyramids, planned the skyscrapers, chipped rock from the moon. might is a powerful word, it indicates strength, it predicates possibility–trust me, there’s nothing stronger than a word that tumbles around your head. internalize your worth and wear it like an accessory. scratch that itch, spit it out, shed your skin and leave no trace behind.
wake up, you’re going to be late.
Ringo From the Stars | Choices
Choosing peace? Maybe.
aSoSS 30 | Gossip
Joanne, how do you pronounce your last name?
(-)
[a moment later] Hey, stop talking about me!
Morris Lawrence Building, 2:30PM, 9/7/2024
under the norway pine there are faint notches in the bark, one tally for each secret you have spilled. its twin used to bear the weight of teenage angst, hearts carved so deeply they scarred the cambium. it burned down one night, struck by lightning in front of your house. confidence or coincidence? we were young and nameless; admit it, there is no more value in saving face. buttercup blues–scale a tree, snap a branch, so you can’t leave.
How many followers do you have?
One.
See, then the ratio of one to eight hundred following is crazy! Who’s the one anyway?
A random.
Mosher-Jordan Dining Hall, 11:30AM, 9/6/2024
we sentence dynasties of mice to their deaths, eyes strapped to a display, a paralysis of creature and conscience. outside, i am drowning in distractions. i see your mouth and i smell your voice, just out of reach, a parasite in the brain. i turn to the screen and immediately the sensation fades. my screams are reflected in a pleasant digital echo, but it does not matter anymore. above, an observer makes a note– turns to the supervisor–makes a face that betrays a flash of fear. the wheel keeps turning, though none remember why.
Separate my work from my life, I’m glad that I was the one to answer the phone before my story goes public…
Barnes & Noble, 10:00AM, 11/1/2024
there is a collage of shoe prints at the front door. how long has it been since i visited you? there are boots and canes and infant shoes strewn across the hallway. we embrace like lovers; we discuss the weather like strangers. the heat, am i right? we are two ostriches with our heads buried. quicksand logic: time moves slowly if we reminisce, as if memory moves counterclockwise and we can escape to the treehouse and the campfires and the blanket tents. your ingenuity reflects my innocence. the baby coos and you whisper lullabies in a foreign language–i realize it is foreign to no one but me.
Ringo From the Stars | Alien Vibe
Ringo blends in in a peculiar way.
aSoSS 29 | Terror
I get stressed out when people don’t take in the environment around them.
AADL Downtown, 10AM, 8/31/2024
absorbed should have a much more negative connotation than it carries. you are so full that there is nothing left of you. no more capacity to love, to help, to notice. you successfully create an alternate reality that only you can see: everything cut off, no inputs from above, the plane has lost its radar. to pop the fantasy like a balloon feels like slicing into flesh, attention spreading rapidly from the cut. your eyes finally look up–and then, like an infection, the condition switches to me…
I can handle suspense, I can handle horror, but I can’t handle blood… that’s why I hate the Saw movies.
Salvation Army, 5:00PM, 10/14/2024
you are counting the age of a dead child. she lies immobile, chest heaving in the wind. a good pretender, i’ll admit. perished from inside, limbs left to rot. there are flowers where her fingers used to be. i grab a bone and snap it, relishing the crunch, the final release of form. to grow for decades and disappear in one pinch–energy stored is energy gained, nothing is permanent except for a loss of permanence. from the middle of the stump, a seedling reaches for the sunlight. even in death, life always finds a way.
Dementia’s kinda kicking in, huh? But yeah, she’s in good spirits…
AADL Downtown, 4:30PM, 10/29/2024
look at the lips, how they twitch. the eyes, how they lead. beneath the scalp, an occupation–quick to burn, quicker to bleed. having no anchor will leave you stranded even in the harbor. the tide swells and the eddy swirls and you spin, around and around, forgetting which way is forward. we are privy to the comforts of a world unchanged, a diorama, a beetle encased in resin. up in the brain: more spirits, more childhood bedrooms, more confusion, more spinning. the mind’s eye, shattered into a thousand infinities, each one smaller than a drop of water.
