I am Idiot, and just a little bit more. I have to live with this. Being born yesterday to a world I’ve already put wrong. Being too absent minded to realise all I’ve done. Not caring that an unseen force seeks to put me down. Not caring, not trying. Glad that I’m not smart. Then I might have to deal with it all.
But this complimentary self loathing is not me. I read it over twice and knew it wasn’t quite right. Three times, delete? Fourth time, nostalgia. I am no Bob Dylan, I can’t really get the message over the way I want. But being the blissful idiot I am, I don’t really care. I write as I would talk. Well, type as I would talk. I would like to write as my heroes did before me, but it seems pen and paper isn’t good enough for this age anymore (rants the old man inside me). So today in the tangled city, lying in my hospital bed, I write the story of yesterday. My dairy. A twenty something year old monkey alien in the year 2066.
So that’s how I’m starting this. Well... how else could I? Suppose I could go back, erase that, and start at the beginning. Or I could tell a tale of when I lay face flat, arse naked on a hospital bed whilst a massive crowd (a doctor and a nurse) gathered to hum in a monotonous doctor like warble, whilst picking out random blunt objects to drive into my back, stating it’s an authentic medical practice (no mercy for commas in this story). Then again I think they had drugged me. Suppose it was for the best. I actually find it quite funny now, the fact that I wasn’t all there whilst they pounded my back with a series of layabout hammers. But then again, I shouldn't have been there. I shouldn't have fallen three stories down. Then maybe I wouldn’t have become another statistic on a long list of idiots. But I can’t help if I’m a proud Idiot.
Ignore all that. Start again. Summarise. Continue.
Let's go RIGHT back to the start. As far back in time as I possibly can, which would this morning. Actually now I can even be sure if it was this morning. Never got a chance to ask someone. But anyway.
My Amnesia was rather bad when I first woke, completely forgot everything. I was like a newborn child, except with the personality and intelligence of a “bored with life” erratic Twenty three year old Azikai (or as the natives call us, monkeys). Probably the most obscene baby in the ward, but there's always that one crawling all over the walls.
The first thing I got was the smell. The air was musky, damp, horrid. Like a poorly ventilated sweatshop. I didn't move. I didn't open my eyes. I couldn't feel a thing. I didn't want to. Something was holding me back. Some heavy subconscious force pinned me to the soft ground. It was as if the heavy air was too thick to move in. But it was comfortable. I was not yet fully awake so all the worries of life had to wait. I was being revisited by that warm glowing blissful maiden that is sleep.
Comfortably paralysed I envisioned her. The woman that drifts alone. Alien in the claustrophobic bustle of a familiar city. That beautiful pale skinned long blond haired human who wears the red dress in the black and white world. The woman in red, a classic illusion, except... I began to recognise her. She usually smiles... smiles behind a clear screen, for all to see... for all to see on the screen, but... was it... was it false? That smile. She usually turns and smiles, she always does! But this time... it was horrible! She turned around crying, everyone in black and white around her crying. No sound. No chance of being heard. Caged behind a flashing screen. Like an old TV hidden in the ambient of a film from long ago. Stuck in the back of my mind. Left to fester alone. Everyone crying, someone put the TV on mute. Some ignorant repulsive soul took away their voices. I tried to move, tried to find a way to turn up the volume, but a numbing buzzing tingly force held me in place. I didn't even know what I was being held to. I couldn’t move my head. At this point I didn’t even know if my body was present. All I could see was that screen, their disfigured faces drenched in clown like bleeding mascara. It was all happening too fast. I began to panic. Then a thought circled my mind. The ignorant repulsive soul? What if that soul was protecting me? Protecting me from the crying. But it read my thoughts, was unhappy with my remarks. It turned the volume up and they all began screaming. Static choking screams. Their jaws dropped to the ground as their eyes rolled down into their empty bodies.
My own eyes burst open. The heavy air flooded back into my sinuses. The static screams replaced by the sounds of clatter from the outer world. But they were still echoing in my mind making it even harder to determine whether I was awake or not. I found it hard to keep my eyes open. The echoing screams began to get louder. I was slipping back in. My own voice shouted in my head, demanding I get up. I did try. I even thought I did at one point. But I was too drowsy to know that I was still sleeping. Finally all my lower class effort pulled off. I managed to jerk my head sideways, beating away the subconscious trap. This sudden movement somehow awoke a massive headache. The pain hammered away the subconscious world and brought me back to reality. Perfectly understandable I believe, as you rarely feel real pain in dreams, don’t you? How do you think that whole pinch me thing works? Anyway I was awake, but still unaware of where I was.
Strong dusty beams of light ripped through the dark haze of my tired blurred vision. My eyes began to compensate for the contrast and the dark zones gradually became clearer. Wooden plank walls haphazardly thrown together formed a frail square room. There was a door, well... an exit. A hole covered by a single stained sheet. The walls where filled with smaller holes and gaps between the half rotten planks, not only letting in light, but the occasional cool breeze lifting the weight of the air. The breeze from the outside world brought a scent of its own, a rather foul one. A distant open sewer? The decay of a rundown street? The barking of dogs. The bullet holes in the walls. Distant shouts and the whoosh of traffic pulsing through the airwaves. The world was breathing, coughing. Out there the world was alive with the sound of its own frail body.
The floor was covered in mattresses. There were about four other people scattered on the floor. All sleeping. Unconscious. Empty bottles everywhere. The mattresses stained. Dark hazy liquid dripping from the bottle heads. A red stain on the wall. Limbs tangled in a restless sleep. The barking getting louder. The slamming of doors. Shouting. Screaming. The escalation. The bloody screeching birds. The discomfort. The light burning my aching eyes. The bassy pulse of the throbbing pain in my head. All senses where numbing, as if the migraine itself was pushing fingers into my brain, closing passageways to the memories I needed so badly. I had no idea where I was. Who these people where. What was out there. Why the hell I was lying in the filthy shack. At this point I was too worried with where I was to realise that I didn’t know who I was.
Actually... now that I have the chance to think about it... The fact that one could forget himself is so unlikely that they may not even realise it when it happens. Something the Brain could never really prepare for.
Now this I love. My mind was emptied of all memories. But, everything that followed my wake I can remember in perfect detail. I never thought it would be like this. Writing this now I've just realised how much I can actually recall from that day. Every little detail. It’s as if my memory loss has given me more space for new ones. But then again, there's something's wrong with me. Not sure what but I remember a doctor telling me that its brain damage. I don’t believe her because I’m an idiot. I told her that and hoped she understood.
I can remember the past few days in perfect detail, but that's about as far back as it goes. As I live another day I forget another as if the new memories push out the old ones. I was told this happened about six years ago when I was seventeen. I can remember bits of my childhood. My sweet mother. And her unjust execution. My little Canadian home. My Canadian town, Kelowna. My father that was never there. The tall trees and mountains. Christmas. Wooden stairs, arched doorways, the scent of cinnamon. Planes. Impossible ascension. The old human music. Drones, distortions. Slow crescendos, constant build-ups. Louder, so loud. Induced emotions through sound. That voice in The Great Gig in the Sky... But seventeen onwards... nothing. Somehow 6 years had just completely disappeared. That's why I'm writing this. I can't let my past just wash away like this. I need to defeat this, somehow.
Anyway back in the shack. I was just like the other three around me, lying half naked on a dirty mattress with a bitter taste in my mouth. I arose awkwardly competing with aching bones screaming for the soft mattress. I sat up, drowsily fighting the luring thought of lying back down. I didn’t want to get stuck in that dream again.
I sat there for ages pondering on the strange dream. I didn’t yet know that I was an amnesiac. It took a while, I was quite tired and a bit absent minded. There was a familiar feeling of comfort which kept me pleasantly sidetracked. However there was a slow drop in the pit of my stomach when I began to wonder where I was again. A very unfamiliar feeling started to brew as I tried to search my empty mind. I had no idea where I was... but surely... that’s not possible. How can I not know where I am? I disregarded my worried thoughts for a second thinking the memories would soon surface.
I lay there for a while, thinking all was normal. I thought I was too tired to search my mind, but the worry started to build. I just couldn’t remember how I got here. The pain in my head was now being somewhat numbed by adrenaline brought on by a slow rise of fear. Why couldn't I remember? My hands were shaking, pinkish skinned hands, but the rest of my body was covered in white fur, excluding my chest and feet. My hands looked like my feet and my feet like my hands. I had four thumbs! Why did I find this so surprising?! Why couldn't I remember?! I felt my face. everything was there. This isn’t possible, not possible, can’t be. Stupid this is stupid, impossible! How can I not know who I am? No effen way!
I had to find something, I had to see my face, I had to remember. I scanned the room, nothing reflective. The people on the floor, they were... the same. The same species as I. Furred monkey like creatures with tall pointy elfish ears and long thin tails. They were covered in white fur, except for their hands, feet, muzzle, chest, and the more explicit areas on one which didn’t even bother to be half naked. They were all Azikai... I knew who they were. The Azikai Race, Refugees. Brought here to earth after some war I couldn’t quite yet recall. But what was I doing here?!
So to add to the dramatic thoughts in my head I did what any actor should have and sprung from my bed. However it seems I've still to learn allot from the art of dramaticy (which is a word now). My tired legs lost balance with their unhealthy appetite for sleep. I instantly fell back down and landed on one of my unconscious neighbours.
Now this next bit was quite interesting.
Her black Azikai eyes slowly opened and she began groggily shouting at me in a slurred raspy voice (that not the interesting bit). It was a different language though, different from the voice in my head, but I still recognized it. Cantonese. Now if she was shouting at me in English and replaced some of the more vulgar words with similar sounding pleasant ones then she would be saying along the lines of "Ducking... Duck... Mak... you... you... stupid Duck! what the duck do you think you're doing! you ducking glass pole! w.. wh.. why... I mean... for duck...." and I'm sure you get the point with that. But, "Mak". was that my name? I was quick to reply, trying to sound as apologetic as I could.
"Sorry, really sorry! I uh..."
"Duck off"
She continued to mutter abuse as she turned over onto her side and fell asleep. Out of desperation I tried to wake her up again, trying to get her help. It was obvious she knew who I was. Whispering in her ear didn't work so I lightly shook her shoulder. Then... well... in my current state I never would have seen this coming. If I wasn't suffering memory loss then I would have backed away instantly, but... guess I was unlucky this time (now this is the interesting bit). She started to shiver, her breathing accelerating. I backed off a bit, thinking she was starting off a seizure. But it was too late. With incredible speed she rolled over pushing me down onto the mattress and before I knew it she was kneeling onto of me with a raised clenched shaking fist. It descended five times. The first three to my jaw, the last two to the side of my head. I tried to push her off, fight back, but the shock paralyzed me, her unbelievable speed, her relentless aggression. By the time the fist raised for the sixth hit I was frozen. Every muscle in my body has seized up with the shock. All I could feel was the piercing sting of my now tenderised facial muscles and the sickening ach growing in my head. She too was frozen. The snarl on her muzzle diminishing. Her crazed beastly eyes transforming in to those of a scared little girl. She suddenly gasped covering her mouth with both hands out of shock. She began to whimper "oh, god, oh god, no, no, no, no..." She then started to cry.
I wasn't taking any chances, I slipped out from underneath her and bolted for the door. And my god, yet another shock to the system was waiting outside. The blinding burning daylight played havoc with my senses, and once again... paralysed! The theme of the day. Anyway it only took a few seconds until I decided to add to my bruises and land face first on the dusty ground. Legs where still a bit wobbly from... well... everything. The sun was immense, hung high in the afternoon sky. For a brief moment it felt quite soothing on my back. I lay there for a few seconds waiting for my brain to reboot and take in all that just happened. Then I heard her call my name "Mak!" Again, if I had my memories, I would have known that she was like this. A bit emotional, well... extremely emotional. And she had every right to be with her troubled past. But at that moment I didn't know. All I could think was, run.
Covered in dust from the dry sandy ground I quickly scrambled to my feet, letting my eyes adapt to this bright environment. Before me stretched a descending valley of shambles. Buildings made from scraps piled on top of each other crawling up steep hills on both sides of me. The valley completely covered in shabby brick homes shielded by vast lone trees standing out like ridiculously sore thumbs on the bursting stage. The colours where unbelievable. So many of the houses where painted in various lavish colours. Some with strange vast murals painted on the walls. Street art at its most intense. Some images wrapped around entire buildings and spilled out onto the streets as if it were still growing. It was stunning. Gorgeous shambles. A beautiful blend of dirty windowed boxes of various colours and sizes. Cables and Washing lines adorned in clothes tied the boxes together whilst spiky satellites and antennas stood like totems warding off strangers. This place had character, similar of an old weathered laidback refugee smiling through a sandstorm, laughing in the face of death, not a care for the troubles and dangers that lay ahead.
It was a warm hazy day. Took a while for my vision to fully clear before I could see the silhouettes of scarily tall thin structures in the dusty mist beyond the valleys end. Mass spires huddled together spanning right up into the heavens. A city? No, no time for that, no time, she's coming.
In front of me was a low wall. Below that, the rest of the descending valley filled with houses divided by deep narrow streets. The first of my memories that returned was running, jumping, and climbing. Actually more instinct than memory. One of my favourite past times that is parkour. After all that's what being a Azikai all is about.
Now I know some think it to be a bit racist to call us monkeys, but I have to agree the similarities are there. The agility, climbing skills, four thumbs, tail, that general laid back attitude, and other things that are best not to mention right now. Anyway, I knew what I could do, what I had to do to get away from her. The adrenaline was already pumping before I started. Numbing the pains and clearing my mind. Ready to focus. Ready to take that first jump.
Below was a tin roof. To the left was a tree. To the right was another roof. And above was the sky (obviously). I was there. Right there in the moment. Running towards the wall, running towards the edge, running out of fear, but still... free. That beautiful wild buzz that is freedom.
The foot high wall met my own foot as I sprung into the air and began my airborne decent. The rush was unbelievable! The weightless tickle. The strange feeling of lifting organs which finally brought a smile to my face as I fell down towards the building below. Instinct kicked in and I rolled out of the landing, dampening the fall. Somehow the fear didn't matter anymore. The pain had numbed. The adrenaline was just like a drug. Something addictive. Something I craved. All I wanted to do now was run. Jump along all the roofs and climb every tree.
From that point I began skipping along the roof tops jumping from roof to balcony to roof to power line masts to balcony to roof. Climbing antennas and tree branches in nothing more than my black boxer shorts. Now that's a Life! That’s something worth living for! And probably something I should have noticed earlier. The descending buildings crawling down the valley made it so much easier. Could just jump from one building to the next, using tree branches as bridges. I hopped over a narrow street lined with a bustling market. Maybe I was taking this too fast, what would happen if I was seen? Should I really be up here? Well... that's what I would have been thinking if I wasn't so high. There were definitely a few raised voices after I passed over the market. Embracement started to boil away in the pit of my stomach, but I chose to ignore it. For some reason I had to keep running.
The descent started to flatten out. I was approaching the bottom of the valley. Without the advantage of the houses being on a slope the roofs became more of a challenge to reach. I jumped down from a tree, onto another flat roof, and bolted off the edge to the next building. It was a higher building but I was aiming for a drainpipe I could climb up. However the pipe was wet and slippery like it had been coated with oil. With hands and feet scrambling up the pipe I tried my best to ascend, but there was no friction what so ever. I could feel myself slowly going down. I thought about jumping to the passing window ledge, but it was covered in spikes. Obviously this building didn't like climbers. And as luck would have it, there where people below.
I pushed myself off the wall with my feet, jumping backwards, and landing on the ground. It took a few seconds, but the busy street soon got a bit quieter as some of the Azikai began to stare. Everyone was just, Azikai. Have to admit, that didn’t feel familiar. For some reason I didn’t feel right being surrounded by my own people. The fact that they wouldn't stop staring didn't help. So I just nodded and muttered "morning" before casually walking off.
So there I was, walking amongst the run down streets. I expected more to stare as I walked down. But no... They weren't staring at me anymore. However these streets where different. They had that alcohol soaked feel to them. Maybe these people where used to a sight like me... or maybe they were just trying to ignore me. Mind you there where allot of shorts and a lack of fur coverage on the humid vaporous street. Allot of people seemed to be fashioning a kind of poverty swimwear theme. Suppose the fur is enough of a substitute for a shirt in temperatures like today. I continued to walk on casually greeting those I passed in the street. I was blending in. No matter how shorts my 'shorts' where, I was still blending in. Was this place really that bad?
It felt strange being on the streets. The three floor high buildings walling me in. Confined but somewhat comfortable. A familiar comfort. No one looking in from outside. The building walling us into a sense of comfortable privacy. It felt like a jungle. Vast lone trees scattered among the street. Noble giants stretching over the houses bringing shade to the humid street. Everyone here was Azikai, but that just didn't seem right. Wasn't familiar to me at all.
The building where wrong too. I felt like they should be bigger, cleaner, impossible towers of mirrors piercing the sky. I kept on pondering on the thought. The impossible towers. A memory slipped through, simple vague words that weren’t mine. God’s own bathroom cabinet mirror. The top floor. Something to do with the towers.
The street wasn't claustrophobic enough. There was too much space. I wanted the streets feel like rivers, that's what felt familiar. Busy streets with a current of its own. The clothing was somewhat rough among the people here, as were the looks. The look of trapped refugees with nowhere else to go, yet... somewhat blissful with their situation. There were small fires in the street. People cooking outdoors. Almost campfire like... A primitive feel... The smell was gorgeous though. Smoked fish being cooked over a fire. There where Azikai in the trees, some of them children, just lying about. Some playing daring games. Back on the ground there were a few older Azikai filling in cracks and gaps in the walls of a crumbling home. It didn't look like they were using concrete, more like mud, but then what do I know.
Nothing, I still couldn’t remember. None of this felt right. I continued to walk on, hoping not to be noticed. I started to feel a bit nervous. Unsure if I really was getting away with my look. But my fears where soon smothered out by the startling sight of those few who chose to wear nothing at all. Yeah... I think I will get away with it. These nudists just acted normal. I wasn’t expecting that. Everyone around them, acting normal. Was I the only one seeing their explicit exposures? I didn’t feel comfortable in this environment, thinking I would be picked out for wearing too much. I clearly wasn’t meant to be here.
In the end I just told myself that it’s their culture, not mine. Something I could not yet understand. Now I would like to know, I would like to understand and accept, but right now I had more issues on my mind. I completely forgot I was looking for a mirror. Forgot that I forgot. (now there’s an annoying line).
I wish now that I had more time and less worries to fully take in the street. There was so much life here. No one seemed to be doing well... economically, but they seemed happy. Also for some reason there where children everywhere. They almost seemed to appear out of nowhere, as if they where seeping out of the cracks of the overcrowded buildings. The strange feel to the streets started to develop. Almost forbidden to outsiders, except me. The lack of cloth on both men and women. They didn’t really seem to care. They seemed proud more than anything else. None of this felt right to me. I personally did quite like what I saw, but at the same time knew it wasn’t right. Something I could not yet adapt to. Surely then I couldn’t have been raised among my own people. The fact that I was nervous in my short shorts proved my point. I had to find clothes in a land where there were few spare.
Now the nerves didn’t help at all. They added to the pain in my head, amplified by the brightness of the scorched world around me. Also the nerves added to a new pain, something I had been distracted from ever since my wake. Colon, and Bladder. After all, it was the morning for me.
Now I couldn't knock on doors and ask to use their hole in the floor, Instead I had to take the more urban route of giving an unfortunate alleyway more bad memories. Now I wouldn't usually talk about things like this, but there was something about it. Almost as if I had conquered a fear and been initiated into some street survivors clan. The better phrase for Hobo. However it also made me realise how far I had fallen. But then again, I had no Idea how far I had fallen from. After all I was still an amnesiac. I started to hope that taking a dump in an alleyway was the worst thing I ever had to do. So if that were true, and this was my lowest of lows, then surely things can only get better. Then I realised there was no toilet roll. I'm sure the alleyway laughed at me after that. Now I thought the windows where boarded up. It turned out that there was one hidden one that wasn't. I only realised when I heard someone shouting at me. In general the voice asked me to leave, but as you can imagine it used more vibrant words considering where I was and what I was doing. So I panicked and halted mid deposit before pulling up my boxers and run as far away as my embracement could take me.
So when will things get better?
I continued to walk down the street pretending that nothing had happened, trying to ignore that annoying goblin knocking at my back door. I let my thoughts rush on, trying to piece together my memories. However I couldn't focus when I was this exposed. I still needed to find clothes.
I remember coming up to some Azikai who looked rather startled. So I did the only thing you could do. Smile and say "Good Morning". He replied "Afternoon" which made me realise.
"Oh god, Is it?!"
" yh... yeah" the man stuttered. "it... has been for the past... three hours or so."
"oh... righ....."
He briskly walked away before I had the chance to thank him. So I shouted my praise towards him, but still no turn.
So in a world where the majority of bodily cloth seams absent, where on earth was I going to find clothes? Maybe I could steel someone’s bed sheets and drape them over myself like some low budget remake of little red riding hood. Bet I couldn’t even find red sheets. Then again I would have a cape, always wanted one of those. But with the lack of wind I would probably have to run about flapping the cape with my arms, maybe making a car noise at the same time.
Now there was an image that stayed with me. Couldn’t help but smile at the thought. Unfortunately as I looked up I accidently locked eyes with a man monkey in the distance. He smiled himself and raised a brow rather creepily. Almost seductive. My own brow rose but my smile disappeared. Somehow I had been caught up in a brow off. His lowered, followed by mine. I couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable. Didn’t know if I was sending the wrong message. So I took a deep breath, turned, and walked away.
As I walked I couldn’t help but think... was I starting to remember. I always wanted a cape... how did I know that? Or was that just a strange move in my obscure comedy? Little red riding hood, Remembered that. The monkey people that are Azikai. I knew my species and didn’t have to be told it. I could walk, talk. I knew languages. I knew that 2+2=4. So what the hell is amnesia? If I could remember all these simple things and still not know who I am, then what on earth is Amnesia?! How is Amnesia Possible?! I knew one thing though. I am no scientist.
I couldn’t even be bothered with my priorities. I was too lost in my thoughts. I ignored the fact that I was seeking clothes. I ignored the flatulence that warned me of my unfinished business. And I ignored all the reflections I passed, even though that is what I was truly seeking. I just kept on wandering the streets, taking in all the sights of a world few should ever see.
I saw the urban fountains of burst metal pipes sustaining all of the erratic life around me, including scraggly plants giving the buildings their veins and nervous systems. I saw painted buildings depicting scenes of an alternative book of revelations. The colours where extraordinary. As rough as they may be, These Azikai are unbelievable artists. I felt like they were trying to make a new world, painting mountain scapes. The Azikai even painted themselves. Some covered in unbelievable markings that just couldn’t be natural. It’s a shame really, no way the markings could last too long what with slow replacement of fur. As I ventured on more and more where painted.
Everything was changing. I remembered landing in a street with the poverty swimwear theme. But as I've gone along the cloth slowly disappeared giving way to paint. The building where becoming more decorated. The world I landed in was changing. It was as if they had just walked out of some portal to a fantasy world. Where on earth where they all coming from? Blues yellows greens and reds. Stripes, spots, runic markings. Some wore horns, antlers. Some wore strange jewellery with limbs wrapped in cloth. Then I saw the entrance. The corridor of building broke on to the far left of me, beginning a new street. Both buildings guarding the entrance where covered in an explosion of paint which wrapped round the corners leading into this new street. Nothing could prepare me for what I was about to see.
Round the corner was a new world. Mountains, forests, castles. Dragons flying in a wispy blue sky being held together by cream coloured clouds. Fantasy at its purest. All painted along the buildings. These beautiful Azikai. These astonishing artists. They live in slums. They wear no clothes. They behave like animals, breed like rabbits, and care little for any kind of order or standards amongst modern living. And yet they created a new world. Painted their own paradise to live in. Almost as if they where pretending they where somewhere else. I had walked into another world.
I was walking amongst a story book. A Street entirely painted. Azikai folklore, something I vaguely remembered. Something I adored. The pagan culture and music. The freedom of running amongst forests. They were playing music. Stringed instruments, large droning pipes, small fluty sounds, and something that sounded like harps coming from the overhanging trees.
For a while I couldn’t move. I could only stare with these fantastical Azikai wandering past, blissfully lost in their own world. This really was a story book world. I could see the progression of Images along the buildings. Azikai exploring the forest, being watched by creatures that reminded me only of birds. They explored the forests, coming across stone ruins. Temples of sorts. Large overgrown ruins that could have once been palaces and arenas. As I wandered on the images got darker. The Explorers had found an entrance leading underground. I stopped wandering staring at the strange building in front of me. It was taller. Had two small towers to each side. The image on it seemed to implode on itself sucking in the mountain landscape around it into a door. A door that was painted open, but in reality closed. All the images to the left I had seen of the explorers lead to this one point. The endless mural to the right of me showed a new world of impish like demons leaving the ruined temple under a painted night sky. So whatever was inside of this building was clearly the answer to why both worlds where different to the left and right of me. Had the Azikai explorers released something? Opened the gates of the underworld? Or entered the temple and left as demons? I did love the look of the demons they painted, just so impish and mischievous. Almost an alternative reflection of themselves.
There must have been something religious about this. Some strong deep cultural bond which kept the Street busy to the left of me, and much quieter to the right of me where the imps played on the walls. I started to wonder, where did they get all the paint from? But then I thought, Nah. Don’t ruin the magic with logic. Remain a child.
I wandered on amongst the darker street. The imps running through the night forest. The windows of the houses in this area where boarded up and painted over. Somehow I think these people where quite superstitious. This half of the street was virtually abandoned, but not rundown, still well maintained. The images on the walls showed these imps killing with a smile on their face. Killing Azikai and other strange races I could not name. On one small scene the impish demons where sitting on the shoulders of a king. Whispering into his ear as tears ran down his face. For some reason this image seamed out of place. I couldn’t help but stop and stare. There was a song in my head, ever growing. A soft sweet song. Slow, quiet. Strings. Muted violins. No one else could hear.
Looking along the wall the imps where being crushed in the hands of the king. He was standing on one as it bled. I could feel tears rushing to my eyes. I had to look away. Didn’t want to cry in public.
My emotions where definitely shaky at the time. Didn’t really know why. I felt like they would start to do whatever they wanted now. I had to stop where no one would see me. Sit down in a quiet corner of the street, and let my mind sort it’s self out. At first my breathing was a bit shaky; I couldn’t help but quietly laugh at my situations. I didn’t realise it at first, but I was crying. Everything had finally caught up with my, the gravity of the situation. I had nowhere to go, no one to look after me. Those poor imps. Those poor evil little creatures that burnt so bright on the walls, just to be crushed moments later.
As far as I can remember (which isn’t much to go on) I’ve never felt this way before. So alive... happy. I was laughing again. I quickly wiped the tears off my face and leant back onto the wall. Gazing up at the sky. Maybe, just maybe, if I’m lucky... that painted world is out there. Maybe I’m staring at the painted sky right now. I had to get out of the slums. Had to see beyond the walls. I left the alleyway and continued my aimless wander, hoping I would somehow bump into the exit.
I was smiling to myself as I wandered down the lavish crumbling streets. I was going to see a new world; I was going to see dragons, wizards, fairies, and a guy handing out leaflets. Maybe the streets would run off the edge of this make believe world. Hang over a void as the buildings sank into the abyss. Maybe the world I passed would disappear. Sink away as my mind chooses to forget. Maybe none of this is real. A world sustained by my fragile consciousness. Just to sink away when I'm not looking. There was a strange feeling of despair. I wanted this to be real. But then again, maybe I’m better off lying in a coma with my mother watching over me. A different life I Might already have after briefly starting a new one. Maybe I needed this. What was so bad in my other life that meat I had to live this one? What on earth was I thinking?! Snap out of it! Don’t walk into a wall! Or even worse, Mr. Brow off.
Just as I escaped the annoying little imp pulling wires in my head, I heard laughter. Muffled giggles and clicking sounds. I slowly turned my head to see two teenage girls behind me taking pictures with their camera phones. "oh, balls" I whispered to myself.
Now I should have been wondering how the hell they could afford camera phones, but priorities first. I wasn't going to turn round. Didn't want them getting a picture of the front. So I continued to walk on, but the giggling didn't fade. They were following me. So what was an Idiot like me going to do? I barely had a grasp on reality at the time, didn’t even know if they were real. So if this was a dream, and none of this was my imagination, would my actions have any consequences? Only after a few meters I sighed, rolling my eyes and stopped. I smiled, raising my arm and shouted back at them in a rather childish tone "Stop it!". My god they screeched out laughing! And just as I guessed, that was them hindered for the moment. So I quickly walked on, thinking they would stay behind. But no. They followed again.
They were wearing clothes, not much but still. There were no more mountain scapes on the wall. No more painted people. Had I Passed that world? Was It even real? I would have gone back to check but with those two Scampering along like desperate little pixies after me, I found it quite hard to. They Giggled away, shouting "Take 'em off!" Thinking that whistling at me would somehow encourage me to. I didn’t really know if they were trying to Insult or complement me. I pretended it was a compliment and ignored all the dark glares from passerby’s in the street. There was only one action I could think of. One way to show my fans appreciation. Run away. Back to the roofs!
I stopped and examined the building next to me. It was safe, no spikes on the windows. Perfect! I turned round smiling and bowed to my... admirers. I then turned back leaping upon to the first window ledge, beginning my ascent of the three floored building. I collapsed on the roof above landing face first on the warm sun baked concrete. Why didn't I think of this before? Finally, some time to think. I raised my torso, by leaning on my elbows, staring at my hands. 'Why can't I remember? Why don't I recognize these hands?' I still needed a mirror, anything reflective. If I saw myself then maybe that would spark a memory. I couldn’t help but laugh. I almost felt like I had already seen this scene repeated in several films hidden away in my mind.
But there was something about that. Like I finally found another part of myself. Laughing in the worst situations. Staring at a dying flame, listening to an ascending song. Nearly crying as the last of its bright light went up in smoke... and there’s that imp again. Trying to make me cry.
Then... clattering... giggling... the sounds of hands slapping against concrete. I looked round to see one of my admirers pulling herself up over the roof ledge.
"awww would you look at that! Must be my lucky day" she said in a smooth flirtatious voice
"lucky?" I rolled over feeling rather puzzled and a bit annoyed "You've got no idea what I could be riddled with!"
"Now don't cha be insultin' my standards boy! your perfect!"
"Perfect?!" I sprang up and slowly approached the strange woman girl thing. “look at me! How exactly am I perfect...? Actually. I don’t really know... Am I perfect?"
“Uh... Well, apart from the dust and the dried blood... I’d say so”
“Oh... really? Well... thanks... but, what exactly is your definition of perfection?” I slowly got up from the ground to take a less vulnerable position. Wanted to be ready to make a quick escape just in case she was on the turn. “A half naked monkey standing here covered in blood and Dust...? Tell me, what film are you from? Who are you portraying?”
“Uh... what? An actress? Me? Oh, well thanks! Always fancied being a movie star”
“Do I know you?" There was a short pause before she started giggling again, turning away then turning back again.
"now how am I meant to know that?" I stood there for a moment feeling rather confused by her remark? She slowly approached muttering smoothly "The question is... do you know me..."
As she approached, I slowly walked backwards indicating that I wasn't interested. As lovely as she was, she did seem a bit too... forward... creepy. She then stopped.
"wha, scared? scared I might be a bit too much to handle?"
"...Yes"
"Oh come on! We're both young, warm, and so alive"
"Please, We've just met! don't you think we're going a bit fast here?"
"Well... when a half naked man strolls on by a girl has to..."
“...Avert her eyes and walk off in the other direction. She should even cover her eyes and thank her gods for not leading her into a Lamp post!”
“uh... what?! Have you not seen the amount of crotch ‘round here?”
“Yes, but no lamp posts”
“well actually...”
“Yeah, poor choice of words”.
“Look, let’s just get on with it. Here we are on the roof top, no one around to look in. Just two movie stars from a crumbling film. Alone...”
I raised my hand slightly in an attempt to silence her. "why did you take pictures?"
"wh.. well ait it obvious...?" she quickly closed in, half tripping up and placing both her hand on my shoulders. She then whispering in my ear "I like your ass!"
Now I don’t really know why I said this but, I replied in a quick mutter. “Well you’ll be bitterly disappointed when you see the state of it”. She backed off slightly, still holding on. She looked a bit confused, wondering if I had said what I just said. I could smell it in her breath, Alcohol. As I gently pushed her back I replied "Look... don't... don't do this to yourself"
"Oh come on where's the harm in a little..."
"why are you doing this to yourself? I'm a complete stranger! you've known me for little more than a minute... I was... I... I could already be in a relationship..."
"oh come on when dose that matter?!"
I ignored that last remark, in fact I was unresponsive for a fair few seconds. I really could be in a relationship... someone out there could be crying right now. Worried out of their minds because I'm gone. What of my mother or father. Did I have a girlfriend out there, the love of my life I've forgotten?
For the first time I looked into her face. The female Azikai standing opposite me. Sharp narrow black eyes bordered with mascara, long white hair, with strands of her fringe irritating her left eye. Wild beautiful eyes. Beautiful face. Skimpy black rough clothing revealing the shape of her lustrous body highlighted by her flirtatious pose.
What if I'm all alone out there. What if no one's crying for me... what if... I never remember.
A switch clicked in my mind. All the worries of my amnesia just... disappeared, completely. Suddenly there was only one thing on my mind. Her.
"What's your name?" I asked politely
"Klari"
I locked my eyes with hers, gently took her hand, and spoke softly "Klari..." I lifted her hand, looked down and gently kissed it before placing my other hand on top of it "you do have very beautiful eyes"
She hesitated, struggling to find the right words. I could see it in her eyes, she was born here. She was the streets. I bet every lover she had was just a quickly. I bet they all treated her roughly. So how would she react to this? Would she even know what I'm trying to say? She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Then she looked down at her hand, taking it out from under mine and said. "you missed"
"I did?"
She got closer, placing her hand on the back of my neck and locking eyes with mine "My face is up here"
" I know that... I just thought... well... you know... It was best to kiss your hand, in fact... even that's a bit forward considering our... brief encounter" Her other hand started sliding down around my waist down towards my boxers. I backed off again shouting "Slow down!"
"Wha? Why? I was just trying to get to know you!" I could see the frustration in her eyes.
"That's your way of getting to know someone?!"
She laughed again, looking away and looking back again. "My, way? Don't you mean our way?"
"our... way..?"
She could see the confusion in my eyes which seemed to be infections as she too began to look a bit puzzled. She then broke the silence, speaking sympathetically "your... not from around these parts are you..."
I didn't reply creating yet another awkward silence. I didn't know what I was doing, why I was doing it. Why did I kiss her hand? Why did I try playing her game? Was I try to change her? Or did I secretly know that there was no one out there waiting for me to come home. My mind switched back.
Looking down at the ground I heard her mutter "y'know I didn't want to ask... would have ruined the mystery, but... where are your clothes?"
I slowly looked up replying "I... I, don't... know"
"Hmmm... So you’re not one of the free?"
“The what?”
“The nude”
“Oh.. no, no, no... no... aint it obvious?”
“Well your already half way there... So if you’re not one of...” She paused for a second looking a bit confused, followed by disgusted. “uh... was that you?”
“uh... probably. To be honest I can’t really stop them from coming out anymore. Otherwise I would have held it back for you”
“hmm... charming” she replied sarcastically.
With a childish grin I added “well that’s perfection for ya”
She slowly walked away to the side, commanding me with her finger to walk with her. Then with her arms crossed she continued. “Now as I was saying... you’re not one of the nudes but running about in your boxers... Can’t remember where you left your trousers...” she giggled "must have been a hell of a night!"
Looking puzzled again I asked "What do you mean?"
She laughed again "Wow..! y'know... your kind of cute when you want to be"
"I am?"
She paused for a second, looking down at my body. There was a bit of an awkward silence, well this time just for me. But there was something I had to ask her. "look, bit of an awkward question... well... not something I would usually ask a stranger... I think... but... don't suppose you could... spare any clothes?" She looked up again smiling. I quickly added "Man clothes... of course"
"Man clothes? you asking a girl like me for..." she tried not to laugh "man clothes?"
"...yes"
She turned away walking towards the edge of the building and stopping on the ledge. She then quickly turned back seductively smiling.
"Well personally I think you look just fine like that. But if you really want... I can provide... but y'know... there will be a fee at the end." She stepped towards me and whispered in my ear "you're going to owe me a favour" She backed off pushing herself back with her hands on my shoulders. She smiled again as she reversed towards the roof edge "you're going to owe me big time" suddenly she fell backwards and disappeared over the edge. I ran over and looked over to see her climbing down the building.
I had to follow, I wasn't so sure about the favour she claimed. Of course I knew what she wanted, but... well I hardly knew her. All that I had gathered was that she's desperate, and probably drunk in the afternoon haze. God knows how many people she's seduced, what diseases she may have picked up from her experiences. But she was attractive. And I needed the clothes. Once I'd finished climbing down she grabbed my hand and dragged me across the street to the opposite building. This street was a bit more... blank. The walls where only a little painted. I wasn’t in the story book world anymore. The building was just another dusty tanned bulging concrete mass. Two doors (without actual doors), and the walls covered in haphazardly placed windows. One door lead straight to stairs heading up a narrow dark corridor. Scratches and graffiti adorned the walls like cave paintings depicting the victory of one drunken youth over another. It felt like a cave aswell with the sudden drop in temperature. It must have been some kind of apartments. When we reached the top of the stairs a bleak wide yet short corridor stretched out behind us with three doors on the left and right walls. An open window on the end wall let in the afternoon light. She dragged me to the door right of the square hole representing a window and stopped. The red door... the other five where black, but this one red. Now is it just me or is that a bit strange? The one red rose among the withering garden.
Anyway, there were three locks on the red scratched wooden door. Looking at the state of the corridor it was no wonder. Klari took a key out of her pocket an unlocked one. She then reached down into her boot, taking out another key, unlocking the second lock. She then turned away for a moment, smiling, and reached into her chest, pulling out another key and unlocking the final lock. She then backed away to the side of the door, gently holding out her arm presenting the unlocked door.
"well done!" I praised. She sighed.
"Just get in"
The door lead straight into the square main room of the apartment. Tanned stone walls. Window on the left. Kitchen on the right. Three doors on the wall in front of me. A light bulb hanging down from the cracked white ceiling on a single wire. A mixed style of tables and chairs probably scavenged from various sources. A Holographic TV? How'd they afford that? The only thing in the apartment that looks new. The only thing that looks like it's actually worth anything. Probably a prized possession of the house pack leader. A stained kitchen in the same room, separated from the living space by a counter. Well used, but not well cleaned. Creased folded clothes piled up on one chair. Cartons and bottles lay empty on the floor. A place to live. Cosier than the streets. More welcoming than the shack I awoke in.
Klari strutted past heading for the door on the left nearest the window. I decided to stay where I was. Didn't really feel right standing half naked in some stranger’s house. She opened the door and disappeared into the room. There was a lot of rustling clatters and mumbling. She must have been looking for clothes for me... I hoped. She peered around the corner and started to laugh. "Why are you still standing there?!" I gazed back feeling a bit embraced. "C'mon make yourself at home, Take a seat!" I pointed at myself as if to say, who... me? "Sit! Now!" she snapped, pointing at the cushioned sofa. I awkwardly walked over in silence to the sofa and slowly sat down, trying by best not to disturb any of the debris lying about the house. She waited until I sat down before disappearing back into the room. "If you want a drink or anything to eat there's shit in the fridge".
'They must be without toilet then...' I thought to myself. "No thanks, I'm Fine" I shouted back. Unfortunately that last remark reminded me of some unfinished business. "actually, could I use your bathroom?"
"Far right door" she shouted back.
I arose from the sofa wandered over to the bathroom door avoiding all the rubbish, making sure I didn't touch anything in case I set of some unseen alarm. I opened the door revealing the small box shaped room with nothing more than a hole in the floor. That was it, Just a hole in the floor and a sink on the right wall. However, above the sink was a mirror. It took me a second to notice, but there it was. A mirror. A reflection. Maybe now I could remember.
I pulled the door closed behind me and slowly walked over to the sink, staring at my reflection. The gleaming narrow black eyes where the first things I noticed. Followed by the face. A roundish face with a sharp jaw line, like a shallow upside-down triangle. My face was almost cat like, except without the fluffy cheeks. My elfish ears sticking out of the side of my head, just like the other Azikai. I Had hair! Pale blond spiky hair, medium in length. Some strands going down into my eyes which I was constantly trying to brush away. The rest me body was white. Thin but athletically muscular in build. This was me? Yes... this was definitely me. But no matter how long I stared. No matter how hard I tried. I still couldn't remember.
I stood there for quite a while, leaning on the sink, staring at an unfamiliar face. Maybe, just maybe if I stared long enough, it would all come back. There where lapses, brief momentary lapses. I kept on pondering on those words. The streets flashing in my head. Small thin square plastic boxes lined among angled shelves, each with a different picture on them. The shack where I slept last night. One shack among a concrete jungle of suntanned boxes. Lapses, momentary lapses. Familiar, those words. I didn't even know what a lapse was, what momentary lapse meant, but I used it anyway to describe the faint memories surfacing and sinking. The female Azikai with a green bottle in her had. That sweet innocent face. Her forehead pressed against my own. A momentary lapse. Red powder filling the palm of my hand being thrown into the air. Everyone else around me throwing different colours leaving streaks of bright dusty clouds shooting through the air before raining down again. Like a trail left behind by rockets made for pixies. A momentary lapse of reason? THAT! yes, that's something... that's so familiar! Those words. Something old, something sacred, something beautiful. Sound, beautiful sound. Something that took me back. Something that reminded me. Something I was known for. Archives. searching the past. The sound. The archives, archives, ARCHIVES!. Sound archives, 322 Dongsheng Rd, Lishuizhen!
That's where I found it all, that insanely brilliant Azikai, obsessed with human music. A momentary lapse of reason. Pink Floyd. Released 1987. The first of two studio albums released without their Bassist and lyricist Rodger Waters. MY GOD!
It all came rushing back. That Azikai, my, friend. My best friend. My only friend? Standing there. Short spiky hair, brown striped fur. One inch taller than myself. Those pointless one inch arguments, puns. Reaching for the top shelf boasting about his extra inch. This image, Rushing in. Memories slowly pushing against the walls of my mind. Barging past. Racing to the finish line. A beat pulsing in my head. An intro. Clocks ticking out of time. Voices fading in. An old voice. Strong English accent. Almost resentful detached. Weathered with experience. "I've been mad for fucking years, absolutely years. I've been over the edge for yonks". Speak to me. Pink Floyd again.
Those bright black shining eyes shimmering with curiosity. I can't remember myself but I can remember him! I can remember the old music! The pulse getting louder and louder. More voices. A shaky dusty drone rising. Bachi, standing there in a trance moving his headphones from ear to ear. Making the sound orbit around him, controlling the sound. Surrounded by plastic cases. Surrounded by wires. Sound everywhere. The intro escalating. The woman screaming. Cymbals shivering. The Climax. This is where it all began!
"What the hell are you doing in there?!" Klari screamed from the other side of the bathroom door.
"Uhh.. just a second!" I shouted back. But she barged in anyway, looking rather frustrated.
"Thank hell! thought you might have gone the way of Elcras."
"What the..! I could have still been.. going...!"
"So?"
"What do you mean, 'so?!'. Ever heard of privacy?!"
"Oh yeah that's rich, coming from someone walking about in the streets in his fucking underpants!" I walked out of the bathroom, still a bit shocked. "Clothes are on the bed by the way... your welcome!"
"yeah... thanks..." As soon as I was out of the bathroom she slammed the door sealing herself in. So I went off to the bedroom to see what she got out for me.
It was a rather cluttered bedroom. An open cupboard like a broken dam with clothes flowing out. Bursting bedside table drawers with the table surface completely covered with old E-News files. Clothes lying on the floor. Shelves teaming with various boxes, pictures, and freaky dolls... well they freaked me out. Like tiny demons trapped in a curse. Caged in doll form. A punishment for their sins. I cautiously approached one, staring right into its lifeless eyes. I could almost hear the demon in my head. The insane rambling screams. Man, I should really get some control over my imagination. I knew they were just Dolls, but things like that... the paranoia always manages to poke away at my nerves.
The clothes where decent enough, if a little worn and torn. A collared button white shirt with a hole torn in the back. Beige jeans with holes in the knees. But I didn't really take notice. As I changed into the loose fitting clothes all I thought about was home. Sound archives. 322 Dongsheng Rd. Vintage music record shop, and of recently, vintage TV and films. Trying desperately to remember more. After all, it's really the only place I could call home. And Bachi... us unrelated as we were, he's still the only person I could call family.
I had to get there I had to go home, but... If I didn't know where I was... then how would I find my way home?
With vivid illusions of home swimming about in my head I started to walk towards the bedroom door, but something wasn't right. The trousers where no good, too wide around the waste. I held them up to stop them falling down. This wasn't going to work. Rather than walking about holding on for dear dignity, I decided to look for a belt. Needed a belt... a belt. I stood on the spot, looking around the messy room. How was I going to find a belt in this place? Too much clutter. Somehow it made it harder to think. The clutter clogging up my mind. Not to mention those creepy dolls staring at me. I heard Klari come out of the bathroom. So I wandered into the main room holding the trousers up.
"Don't suppose you have a belt for these?"
"ah yes... I'm afraid I'm gonna need payment in advance for that" she said slyly
"Payment?"
"You owe me a favour remember" she smiled seductively. The favour... so she was finally going to play that card. Now I wasn't sure what the favour entailed, but with her rather forward personality and desires I had a vague idea.
"yeah about that..." I replied hesitantly
"Take a Seat... relax"
I sat back down on the sofa, waiting for whatever was to come next. Wonder how many others she had misled to her sofa. Wonder if that was obscure innuendo of the day. Klari walked over grabbing the remote from the coffee table in front of the sofa. She sat down next to me, leaning her head on my shoulder.
"Fancy some Tv?"
Had to admit, that wasn't what I was expecting. But I had to keep my whit about me, could be a trap.
"uh... sure"
She giggled "y'know, I wasn't asking"
"sounded like you wh..."
she snapped "Shut up. No need for... Details!"
"Ah but do they not say, God is in the details"
"what the hell's that supposed to mean?"
I shrugged "Dunno really, thought a smart girl like you would though" She looked up at me looking rather tired and confused."Or maybe not then"
She laughed then added "Your one to talk, leaving home without your clothes on!"
We both stared at each other for a short moment before laughing. "Alright you win" I Added.
The TV was on. Some human game show. A woman swinging on a rope over a pond towards a platform, but loosing grip, screaming, and falling into the water. Klari was staring down at her phone, browsing her pictures. She giggled then showed me a picture she took of my backside. Now on a completely unrelated note, the spelling and grammar thin on this pad (my immortal enemy) wants me to change “of” to “off”. So that last sentence would read “She giggled then showed me a picture she took off my backside.” Just found that funny is all... anyway. She showed me the picture and asked "How would you feel if I sent this to someone?"
"and who exactly is this someone?"
She rolled her eyes and sarcastically replied " My granddad, what does it matter?!"
"well I don't know about your granddad but it would sure make me feel uncomfortable if you sent that out"
"Good" she sent it " I like it when your uncomfortable"
"Oh thanks..." I replied sarcastically.
This time a man stepped up to the rope, swinging, missing and landing in the water followed by laughter... well some fake studio audience. The commentator calling him all kinds of names I didn't really understand. There was a buzz in the air. Fading and rising erratically. Panning from left to right. A fly.
"so... how many pictures did you take" I asked
"Dunno really... uh.." she fingered the phone, images whizzing past the screen " fourteen... and Faeda took about fifteenish I think. so there's about thirty I'd say". After another couple of contestants plunged into the water, Klari slowly got up and stood facing me. She then whipped out her phone and took a picture of me before sitting down again.
"What was that for?"
"gotta put a face to the ass"
"what?! Don’t be so disgusting!"
She paused for a second before taking into about of what she said. She then burst out laughing "oh, no... no, no. I didn't meant that!" She settled down as a contestant forgot to let go of the rope, swinging back and forward lifelessly, before losing grip and diving into the murky water below. All I could focus on was the clicks and beeps from the phone. "Safina thinks your cute by the way."
"who's Safina?"
"A bitch... bets she's well jealous" she remarked in a smug tone.
A contestant swung for the platform. A good swing, good speed, good direction. But he slowed upon his approach to the platform. He let go of the rope and slammed chest first with legs dangling over the edge. He desperately tried to pull himself up, but slipped and fell right into the broth, as the commentator called it. Is that all this program is?
"Wait you sent her a picture of me?"
"I sent her both!"
After letting a few more contestants fly by for a quick hinder, I told Klari “you’re lucky I don’t think you’re real, otherwise I would probably be a bit annoyed”
“wait... what? What do you mean, I'm not real?”
She looked rather annoyed but all I could do was smile in silence. She didn’t bother combating, just slumped back down in the chair and continued to click away on her phone.
A new game. This time the contestants seemed to be running up a wide slippery ramp. They had to reach the top whilst avoiding large fake boulders and other random objects like fake rubber chairs and tables. All being thrown down by obscure men in red robes and white face paint. The first contestant wasn't so lucky. Scrambled up the ramp and slipped, falling backwards right down the ramp. He got up to try again. Seams your only out if you get hit.
Klari sighed and stretched before turning her phone off and putting it down on the table. She then returned to resting on me.
More contestants. More failings. More fake laughter.
"Why do you want your friends to be jealous?" I asked.
"They're not my friends!" She snapped.
"oh... ok... how come there on your phone then?"
"look, just because you hang out and chat with people doesn't mean you have to be friends with them"
"ok... dose that count for me aswell?"
"what, you..? I dunno, we'll see."
Reality TV game show. Real people being real idiots. One contestant made it up the ramp, good for her. Shame she has to go through to the next round though. More humiliation on the way. But what the hell was I doing? I just let some stranger send out somewhat personal pictures of myself to her 'bitches'. Why wasn't I angry, or embraced? Didn’t even feel proud. I suppose I hadn't really fully accepted the reality of the situation. I felt lighter than usual, like my mind was suspended. I almost felt like I could float. Drift upward without knowing. Nothing seemed real. It was all real. This did all happen. But still felt like there were no consequences to follow my ignorance to this reality.
"Is this what you do then?" I asked. "Drag home unsuspecting strangers, taking odd pictures of them and sending them out"
"hmmm... could do I suppose. But nah, you're the first. The only one stupid enough to follow me home"
"Follow.. strange I seem to remember being dragged"
"Oh yeah..."
Another contestant scrambling up the ramp. Unfortunately he spent too much time focusing on his feet. Ended up running face first into a boulder. He's the lucky one though. Gets to go home.
"mind you..." Klari muttered. "If you where a real man, you would have just broken free from my lady grip"
"Lady grip! Nearly strangled my wrist! Bet I get a bruise now" I Joked. "well... least I was the first at something."
"yeah, stupid enough to be first"
There was a brief pause whilst the TV rambled on. I then retaliated "I think your forgetting! I needed the clothes! I came here willingly..."
She didn't reply though. Just continued staring at the TV, smiling at my remark. More contestants challenging the ramp of mild doom. It shouldn't have been entertaining. Very cheap and easy comedy. But I had to admit. I was a bit funny. Shouldn't let my standards get in the way... if I had any. Shouldn't let petty principals and moral high grounds get in the way of little opportunities like this. The opportunity to be lightly entertained by people failing at running up a ramp on TV.
"Your different" she muttered. I continued to stare at the TV, waiting for her to elaborate. "why didn't you didn't shout at me or hit me when I sent those pictures, even though I did it right in front of you?"
"why would I hit you?"
She hesitated, speaking softly "I.. uh... I thought that's what boys did..."
"Really?! well it's not what I do"
"You didn't even get angry"
"Should have I? Is that what boys do?"
"Well.. it's just..." she went silent, returning to the TV. Then I finally figured it out. Why I didn't really care about what she did.
"I can't get angry at you"
"What why?"
"I Don't know." Ok, maybe I didn't figure it out,