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feedback for a short piece may be somewhat unpleasant

#1 User is offline   Jevasi 

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Posted 27 October 2012 - 11:46 AM

Hello Everyone
I realize that its been a while since I last posted any writing here and while I've hit some snags along the way I am still trying to pull off a larger project. In the meantime however I did a short piece of stream of consciousness writing that turned into the following which I may either try to integrate into said larger project or just keep as a standalone. Either way I'm really not sure what to think of the piece and so I was hoping I could get some feedback from you folks.
I feel that I should include a caution that while I deliberately tried to avoid making it too graphic I'm not really sure how well I succeeded. If your concerned about that it may be better to wait until others let me know where it sits.
Thanks for your time.


Do It Yourself
It’ll be beautiful Alyssa just you wait until I show you; it’ll be the most wonderful thing you’ve ever seen. How can it not be he though as he tightened the plastic and lined the syringe up with the veins on his arm. He’d have to wait a bit until the painkiller kicked in which left him to his thoughts. While waiting he considered the story of how he had gotten the morphine, it was a funny story really, his friend Greg was a nurse who had a habit of selling of stuff for some cash on the side. All it took was to tell Greg that he needed a painkiller as part a plan to get Alyssa back to show her something truly beautiful and in a veritable blink of the eye he found the plastic wrapped syringe of morphine shoved into his waiting hand. He wasn’t quite sure what exactly Greg had though he was going to do but he was grateful not to be asked as coming up with an explanation would only break the flow. No if this was going to happen he’d have to act while he still remembered what it was he wanted to do, while it still seemed so clear.
Snapping out of his thoughts he could feel the morphine kicking in and wasn’t sure how much time he would have. He sat down in the folding chair in front of the mirror and reached for the paper towel drenched in alcohol and knife, he’d spent hours sharpening and making clean. In one hand he lined the knife up with the line he had drawn along his forehead in marker that had begun to smear from sweat. With the towel at the ready he gently applied pressure and the knife cut cleanly down through the thin skin and muscle surrounding his skull. Immediately the blood began to pool around the edges of the damaged tissue but his other hand was ready and used the towel to soak up the blood before it reached his eyes. He saw a white fizz build up around the edges of the slit running down the center of his forehead. He had wondered if it would still sting through the painkiller and was somewhat relieved to learn that it didn’t.
The hand with the now rust colored knife carefully set in on the TV tray at the side of the chair and gingerly picked up the power drill. Yes it all seemed so obvious now he though as he lined it up with the small section of exposed tissue under which laid his prize. It would be beautiful, it had to be, how could something so full of such light and hope not be. It would be just like in his dream, the one that had helped him see it all so clearly, it would be all light and colors and pictures and places and people that he had ever thought about. If he could just show it to Alyssa, everything else would be so easy.
Abandoning the now blood drenched towel he held the drill in place with both hands. It was heavier than he had expected, this wouldn’t be easy. It wasn’t helped by the fact that his hands were starting to feel so weak and cold. He’d have to do this part quickly. His finger applied pressure to the button on the drill and it began to hum and fight him. At first he struggled to hold it in place and it slid on the muscle and sprayed thick red liquid everywhere. At last after applying some pressure it found its grip and began to bore into the bone. All good so far.
He remembered when she had left him; how she had said that she couldn’t be with him anymore because his mind wasn’t working right. He hadn’t understood then, he had always had trouble understanding his mind and what it wanted. Sometimes it made him feel so happy and given him such good ideas but then it would take all of that away before he could really get to enjoy it. He never quite got why that was, if that was how his mind was broken, not until the dream. It had made everything so clear. It was just like the old heater down in the basement, the thing had been no end of problems until he and his dad finally opened the damn thing up. Then once he had gotten a good enough look at how it worked it was a piece of cake to solve any problems with it.
Logically the same should apply here too. He had never been able to do anything well unless he could picture it. It all seemed so simple to him now. He had always had trouble with his mind because he had never been able to see it. All that was about to change though, one good look and it’d be crystal clear. He’d know just how to solve whatever was wrong with it and everything would be perfect. He smiled as he remembered how proud it had made his dad when he learned how to fix the heater, yah Alyssa would be just as proud once he was finished.
His thoughts were interrupted again by one of the streams of blood running down his face. He tried to look in the mirror but couldn’t see very well. It was everywhere. It didn’t matter he could hear that the drill was close; he could clean off once this was done, once everything was fixed. He has at least a few hours before Alyssa arrived. He’d said on the phone to be here at five thirty so he’d definitely have time to shower and put on some nice clothes. It wouldn’t do to explain to her that he was all better, that he had fixed himself, if he was covered in his own blood now would it? No it wouldn’t.
He applied a little more pressure to the drill, he should try and hurry he was starting to feel cold, far more than he should considering that it was summer. Tired too, it was getting ever harder to stay awake and even more difficult to keep his hands steady. He steeled himself as best he could. C’mon just a little bit longer he practically shouted inside his head, can’t stop now, not when I’m so cl0ose to being able to fix this. He could hear how the drills whine had changed, it was almost through. This would be quite a story to tell now won’t it?
There once was a man who wanted to see his own mind
For he was visually inclined
And though it was broken he was sure…

A loud crack echoed through the room and the drill slipped through his weakened hands. After a soft squishing noise and a spray of dark liquid the room was silent once more.


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