Vivo Somnio (vivosomnio) wrote,
Vivo Somnio

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When boredome strikes...

So, I got bored, and started in on a story for kicks. I wrote up until the part where you'll see it cuts off, before I realized that I had absolutely no plot or actual setting for it. I just started writing. I did this a few days ago, as I recall, but haven't gotten back around to it.

Any suggestions?
There are certain things that occur in ones life every so often that makes the person wish that it didn't happen so hard that they grit their teeth, and almost believe in their wishes. Hope, with reckless abandon, I should say. A prayer offered up, not necessarily to a god, but to every single thing in existence that whatever has occurred will become undone. Every part of you, down to your core, shaking with conviction of self. This MUST not be true. I won't allow it. I will NOT allow it. You know what I'm talking about. You've felt it before.

This was one such instance. The piercing wail spreading through the room could split atoms it was so strong. No Banshee's scream could compare to this. My heart was beating strong enough to pump blood around the moon. This could not be happening. It simply couldn't be. It's just too damn early to be time to get up. Fucking alarm clock.

* * * * *

A blur of worlds colliding, atoms crashing, neutrons firing into an ever-swirling vortex. Back and forth they whirl, twirl, mash, and smash. An entire cosmic ballet of destruction, its beauty breathtaking in its complexity. Or a cluster fuck. One never can tell.

Or perhaps not that at all!?! Does it have to be destructive? Why does the human mind always instantly latch onto decay? I must have been mistaken. Before me is the birth of the Cosmos. The birth after birth of star and planet alike, never before witnessed by man.

"Oww! MuuutherrrrFUCKER!"

So much for the beauty of light and creation, or the radiance of decay. I always seem to forget that, when I first wake up, my vision could be likened to stuffing your face in some black mud and opening your eyes. Damnable eyes. The cosmic ballet just happened to be the brick wall I walked straight into. Cosmic ballet? Wall? Who can tell these days anyways? And while I'm thinking about it where in the hell did that wall come from? Never mind, there's no time now. There is something FAR more important that needs to be done. It's the reason I'm up right now, the ONLY reason that I'd be up this early in the morning, instead of dozing peacefully while my alarm clock flew the friendly skies. It's not something that can be weighed on a scale of human lives, or weighed up to the fate of the galaxies such is its importance. Now, speaking of how important it is, where the hell is my bathroom again?

* * * * *

Stumbling into a bathroom is perhaps the most frightening experience of one's existence. There is inevitably a brief moment of panic, when it's early in the morning and you're fairly certain that you'd be mistaken for a highly intoxicated individual were you to be seen in public, where you're not sure if you're going to dive headfirst into the toilet bowl or not. I always think that I'm going to, but somehow never quite manage. I honestly don't understand it, but such are the ways of the world. Complex, unorthodox, and quite meaningless.

Leaning forward, placing one hand on the wall for support, and looking to the ceiling I can't help but hope that I'm actually pissing into the toilet. One can always hope for such things, but I've heard it said that hope is a denial of reality. As a man, hoping to get all of your urine into the toilet is like hoping that the Ferrets haven't hidden your shoes this morning. It's downright foolish to hope for such things. The best you can hope for is that you find them easily, and you don't trip over them unexpectedly. The same can be said for the stray urine. Especially the "don't trip" part.

* * * * *

Had I not had to pee, that alarm clock would have seen it's last day. You may be laughing now, but mark my words alarm clock, you will rue the day. You will rue the day.

So. Now it is early morning and we are faced with the most difficult question of, perhaps, our very lives. Mock me not, for you know it is a difficult question. Do I go to work, or do I go back to bed? And if I do go to work, can I mayhap "forget" shaving and catch an extra ten minutes of sleep? Decisions, decisions. A note to any of you younger folk, you can replace the question of whether or not to go to work with whether or not you will attend school this morning. Could be perhaps that you're mysteriously sick to your stomach, and couldn't POSSIBLY attend that big math test, err, I mean any of your classes. Yes. Quite.

I'm sorry, but I'm still not over that alarm clock. Had I my way, every "engineer" that wasn't a siege engineer would be executed for that damnable piece that is an alarm clock.
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