UncleBrazzie [2006-10-02 06:03:11 +0000 UTC]

“Considering the time I spent slaughtering other people like beasts, I suppose I’ve done rather well in life.
Good start. Bleak and nihilistic. The reader'll either hate it (and hence not bother with the rest of the piece, saving the both of you some time), or love it (and hence proceed). If you like carrots, this is a good one to lure us onward, is all I'm saying.

but at least we had something happening.
I guess this just about sums up the human mindframe, mostly. Desperate for something to happen. And if it doesn't we'll make it. Force it at gunpoint, if needs be.
Good one Dorian! Very good.


Aye, those were the days. I mean, we had so much to do; no seas of spare times in which our minds slowly collapsed. No memories of endless failure, no dirty conscience. We messed it up, of course, but it was still better than this hopeless existence, and we were rich.

The catch being of course that it wasn't. Isn't. Never will be. "We messed it up" is the botton mine here. Fretting over how much better it could've been, we crapped a biggie under the tree, stinking up the place for all eternity. We were rich, and look at us now.

“This place looked just alright when we arrived here, but by now, I hate this featureless piece of rock, just as I hate the damned tree. Just look at it, it doesn’t even bear leaves. We’ve been here for so long, and still there are no leaves.

Still there are no leaves.
This is perhaps the singlemost depressing thought. It may help explain the constant unrest, the ennui, which many people experience to chronically. Here's the tree, in all its marvelous glory. Imposing as it is, we don't ever really see it. We only ever see the things we think should be there as well. We only ever see the things that are not there, souring our apppreciation of whatever it is we actually do have.

“Every day again I wonder what I could have done to avoid being dumped right here, in this cursed nowhere. Certainly my life would have been less interesting. But do I want to change things, I ask myself? Am I even able of imagining something different? After all this time, am I still human enough to care?

I think the piece answers its own question most eloquently. If you didn't care anymore, you'd never have written it. Ergo, for better or for worse, you are still human. Very much so, in fact.

“Ten thousand years is way too much time to spend sitting on an uncomfortable rock.”

Good ending note. Petty, sulking and somewhat petulant, but very much an issue we all experience, I suppose.

Make no mistake here, this piece rambles. It goes nowhere at all, but does so very evocatively and effectively. It doesn't actually need to go anywhere specifically, as it is the points it touches along the way that comprise the strength of the thing. Like all auto-conversations, it has no destination, no outcome, no resolution. No closure, but I suppose that's fitting, given the theme and subject.
It reminded me a lot of 's series Child of Chaos, which I'm sure you've read. And the tree made me think of poor Mud, but perhaps that's just because that's where my own mind is most of the time.

I'm curious as to what brought this on, although I can guess and I get the idea that you'd rather not revisit the mindset you were in when you wrote this. A word or two about the title might also be helpful as I found it a bit...I dunno...grand.

Overall, very satisfying read this one! Huzzah and cheerz and jubilations! Great to see you back in action buddy!

Greetz

Jo (Just)

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Felix-Forever [2006-09-29 22:11:43 +0000 UTC]

The tree, indeed! Very interesting. I'd love to read more like this!

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