Thread: Short Story
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Old 03.19.2007, 09:23 PM   #1
SynthethicalY
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Hope you guys like it.


I woke up, I smelled the dream being weaved onto the skin of a swollen guitar. There I sat on the couch, it had no meaning of me being on the couch. I somehow departed from my bed at night and ended up on the couch. I just remember dreaming of cold air, and a sweet sensation of walking through the city. Tall Buildings, meeting new strangers on bars. I think in my dream I met a stranger by the name of Louis. He had black hair, shoulder length; black eyes that looked deep within your soul and pulled out the most intimate secrets of you. I told him I was a closeted queer, with one thing in mind. To stay in the city, and never go back to such a desolate town, as the one I grew up. He told me in a sweet nurturing voice, to come down from the paradise of hell. "You are such a smart man, why must you stay in this paradise of hell? When you can climb the mountains of shit, and move beyond the city. When you realize this you will know that you can be ethereally calmed in the most shitty of towns." He look displeased with me, he went on to say that all night I've been telling him how my life sucked. And he just had it, and that to get over it. Life is life you will have ups and downs, but life isn't that hard as I made it out to be. Finally feeling more down, I left him on a bus stop, that lead to the outskirts of the city. I headed to the queer section of the city.

All in the same time, the dream kept on flickering like a dying television. I enter a gay bar it was filled with pop-noise, and smoke. I sat down in a corner, where it was somewhat desolate. A kind drag came and sat down with me. "What's wrong my dahwling? Why so glum?" I started to tell her how my life had no meaning, that I was going to die not knowing what the world has for me. She hugged me and patted my head. By this time I was bawling, and several more strangers came up to me, I was becoming a spectacle and was feeling uncomfortable. I got up and left, following me was a young man, he grabbed my hand. And said in a comforting voice, "You will be fine, do you mind if I walk with you?" I did not care, my biggest fascination in life is meeting strangers and having conversations with them. We walked through the rainy night, and took a cab. We where at the pier, the moon was dead, the sea clashed uninterested with the pier.

"Did you know that life isn't so bad as you make it seem? What you've told me in the cab that you think you are dumb. Well, what I can tell you is that you don't look or seem dumb. For once I see a Kerouac book on your hand. On the Road, ah the classic. The crisscross across the nation, to find ones own identity. And finding it in a trash can when you are down and out."

"That's it, that's it, that's how you find yourself. In a trash can, when you least expect it. I mean when you are down and out, you will have an epiphany and you will save yourself." I said ecstatic. He gave me a wink. Soon we started heading for the end of the pier. He told me about his life, which had not been that troublesome or exciting. But I like that, and told him so.

"You know what?" he said.
"What?"
"I think you are intriguing, and smart, but don't know why you don't see this."
"Maybe, cause this is all a dream."

My vision flickered for a second, and awoke on the couch. The stars where exploding in sadness, the moon looked mysterious. My cat was sleeping unaware of my concern for the most important detail of my life, where do angels go when they die.
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