Post by Luminous Robin on May 4, 2009 20:43:06 GMT -5
There's nothing to be seen at first. Static. Black and white, dancing hand in hand, demonstrating absolute nothingness on the airwaves before you. It crackles, distorts, until you can make out the silhouette, and then the full form of a man. It's completely monotone, until the colour bleeds into the picture, and then, oh how colourful it becomes. Truly the being before you is more peacock than a man, someone dedicated to turning himself into more of an artform than a being. The colour from head to toe is simply indescribable by any word other than excessive. What a constrast to the room he stands in. White plasterboard and a dull grey locker, with the only actual colour to the surroundings being the pale blue of the steel chair he finds himself seated on, hands fidgeting like an overexcited child.
His ever-grinning lips part, and sound escapes. He has something to say.
________________________________
"There are two things in this world; wants, and means. The two go hand in hand."
"Think about it. Everyone in this world has something that they at least want. The starving want to be able to eat. The ambitious want to have money, or power, or status, or whatever. That little six year old girl who's suckered in by all the advertisement for things like the newest Barbie Doll desperately wants to wake up on her next birthday, and find a pony there waiting for her, a big grin on his horsey little mouth and a saddle, custom made, just waiting for her."
"Hell, even the suicidal at least want to die."
"The problem is...it's a question of means."
"Do the starving have the means of obtaining the food with which to meet themselves? Do the ambitious have the means of seizing the oppurtunity which will grant them their wildest dreams? Does that little girl have the means of actually living her pony idealism? The answer is, probably not. The reason is, because the vast majority of the time, they're all blind. All completely ignorant to the idealism of simply taking whatever it is that you want."
"The hungry want to eat, but they insist on finding a way of 'earning' their keep. The idea of theft is foreign to all but the truly desperate, who are a pitiful sight to behold indeed. The ambitious aren't ambitious enough, letting things such as 'morals' and 'virtues', simply constructions of other people's means to enforce their own wants, stand in their way of getting where they want to be, and even then, wouldn't have the spine to survive in. That little girl's daddy is going to continue busting his ass at a dead-end job, because he's as complacent as the rest of the mediocre, whilst his precious daughter who means the world to him sits back and watches her materialistic dream die in front of her own eyes."
"We live in a pitiful world. But we're still arrogant enough to call it 'ours'."
"What is our world? A single grain of sand washing around under the depths of a high tide. Do any of us actually consider ourselves as part of anything greater than a minute change in the state of others of our kind? Us, a practical non-entity when compared to the vastness of reality itself? Prisoners to a limited shell, matched with the infinite of an impossible mind."
"I only wish I was a child again. Those days of whimsy when I didn't have to worry about the naggings of the taxman and the law and every other limitation of an already restricted and ultimately futile existence. Those days of wishing I could fly, or trying to force my mind to think of a new colour, so I could say that 'hey, I've discovered a new colour, and it's mine, and it's beautiful'. Sitting out on the cool grass and staring into space and wishing I could fly."
"If only I could fly away and leave you all to rot. But I can't. I just can't."
"So what's left to life but to make yourself feel good?"
"Nothing."
"Life is all about euphoria and discovery. It's what motivates us. We like the idea of having food in our stomachs, being well rested, our dreams realised. Believe it or not, all of us love the notion of pain as well. Do you think anyone wants to wake up one day and find themselves completely numb? Pain is simply the realisation of humanity becoming needlessly fearful of their own demise, an unfortunate offshoot of self-preservation. Humanity as a whole has come to associate pain with death, that being that things that hurt you, in extreme cases, can lead to death, and so we're given an instinctive nature to avoid anything associated with the sensation."
"The real question is, if there's no threat of death, what's the difference? It's no different than sugar and spice. Pleasure and pain."
"My father once told me that you shouldn't focus too much on what doesn't exist. He told me that because I was complaining about the cold. He told me, that there's no such thing as cold, because cold itself is simply an absence of heat. I wonder what it was that made people choose heat over cold. Perhaps it was the cosiness of a warm fire, or the association with heat over perseverence from things like frostbite or hypothermia from eons back when we didn't have our apartment complexes to grow fat and bulbous and shove our middle fingers up to natural selection in. Maybe it's because we associate heat with the Sun, the centre of our universe. We chose that over the refreshing breeze of a warm day. We have decided what is something, and what is nothing."
"Your accomplishments are nothing. No matter what you have accomplished when you die, the universe will shrug you off."
"Think of all the people who have been simply forgotten over the years, and their remains made gaseous as you burnt them off driving to the arena, coming to watch me fight. To watch me, suckle at the teats of the atmosphere. The adrenaline pumping through my veins and giving me a rush that you can only imagine, but you don't dare try it. Because you're afraid of pain. Afraid of death. That's your reality."
"I'm going to shatter your reality. I'm going to shatter everyone's reality."
"This body makes me feel eternal."
"All this pain is an illusion."
His ever-grinning lips part, and sound escapes. He has something to say.
________________________________
"There are two things in this world; wants, and means. The two go hand in hand."
"Think about it. Everyone in this world has something that they at least want. The starving want to be able to eat. The ambitious want to have money, or power, or status, or whatever. That little six year old girl who's suckered in by all the advertisement for things like the newest Barbie Doll desperately wants to wake up on her next birthday, and find a pony there waiting for her, a big grin on his horsey little mouth and a saddle, custom made, just waiting for her."
"Hell, even the suicidal at least want to die."
"The problem is...it's a question of means."
"Do the starving have the means of obtaining the food with which to meet themselves? Do the ambitious have the means of seizing the oppurtunity which will grant them their wildest dreams? Does that little girl have the means of actually living her pony idealism? The answer is, probably not. The reason is, because the vast majority of the time, they're all blind. All completely ignorant to the idealism of simply taking whatever it is that you want."
"The hungry want to eat, but they insist on finding a way of 'earning' their keep. The idea of theft is foreign to all but the truly desperate, who are a pitiful sight to behold indeed. The ambitious aren't ambitious enough, letting things such as 'morals' and 'virtues', simply constructions of other people's means to enforce their own wants, stand in their way of getting where they want to be, and even then, wouldn't have the spine to survive in. That little girl's daddy is going to continue busting his ass at a dead-end job, because he's as complacent as the rest of the mediocre, whilst his precious daughter who means the world to him sits back and watches her materialistic dream die in front of her own eyes."
"We live in a pitiful world. But we're still arrogant enough to call it 'ours'."
"What is our world? A single grain of sand washing around under the depths of a high tide. Do any of us actually consider ourselves as part of anything greater than a minute change in the state of others of our kind? Us, a practical non-entity when compared to the vastness of reality itself? Prisoners to a limited shell, matched with the infinite of an impossible mind."
"I only wish I was a child again. Those days of whimsy when I didn't have to worry about the naggings of the taxman and the law and every other limitation of an already restricted and ultimately futile existence. Those days of wishing I could fly, or trying to force my mind to think of a new colour, so I could say that 'hey, I've discovered a new colour, and it's mine, and it's beautiful'. Sitting out on the cool grass and staring into space and wishing I could fly."
"If only I could fly away and leave you all to rot. But I can't. I just can't."
"So what's left to life but to make yourself feel good?"
"Nothing."
"Life is all about euphoria and discovery. It's what motivates us. We like the idea of having food in our stomachs, being well rested, our dreams realised. Believe it or not, all of us love the notion of pain as well. Do you think anyone wants to wake up one day and find themselves completely numb? Pain is simply the realisation of humanity becoming needlessly fearful of their own demise, an unfortunate offshoot of self-preservation. Humanity as a whole has come to associate pain with death, that being that things that hurt you, in extreme cases, can lead to death, and so we're given an instinctive nature to avoid anything associated with the sensation."
"The real question is, if there's no threat of death, what's the difference? It's no different than sugar and spice. Pleasure and pain."
"My father once told me that you shouldn't focus too much on what doesn't exist. He told me that because I was complaining about the cold. He told me, that there's no such thing as cold, because cold itself is simply an absence of heat. I wonder what it was that made people choose heat over cold. Perhaps it was the cosiness of a warm fire, or the association with heat over perseverence from things like frostbite or hypothermia from eons back when we didn't have our apartment complexes to grow fat and bulbous and shove our middle fingers up to natural selection in. Maybe it's because we associate heat with the Sun, the centre of our universe. We chose that over the refreshing breeze of a warm day. We have decided what is something, and what is nothing."
"Your accomplishments are nothing. No matter what you have accomplished when you die, the universe will shrug you off."
"Think of all the people who have been simply forgotten over the years, and their remains made gaseous as you burnt them off driving to the arena, coming to watch me fight. To watch me, suckle at the teats of the atmosphere. The adrenaline pumping through my veins and giving me a rush that you can only imagine, but you don't dare try it. Because you're afraid of pain. Afraid of death. That's your reality."
"I'm going to shatter your reality. I'm going to shatter everyone's reality."
"This body makes me feel eternal."
"All this pain is an illusion."