COMPLETE: When it Ends

[Cabaret]

A small one-shot I wrote a few days ago in response to the reacent happenings in Japan. It was really personal, so I didn't really want to post it, and I didn't think this was something anyone needed to read. It also felt too weird to set it our world, I don't think I really could write it then. Really, it could've been written without the pokemon aspect, but I couldn't bring myself to write about this tragedy. I may write several responses to this. It's been on my mind for quite a while, and it has been affecting my writing. Sorry if it's too short, but I wasn't paying attention to that when I wrote this. I just wrote.
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There are only a few victories left to be won in the world. As the years have gone by, more and more battles are won. Whether it's mans invention of the airplane, or the creation of cloning, man has always overcame. When will the technology come to where we can avoid a natural disaster? When will we be able to control the movement of the moon? When will we escape death?

Learning to live forever.

Green stared at the TV, tears flying from his face onto his lap. Moments ago he was in the kitchen cursing out his doctor, telling him to reschedule his appointment a week. But he wasn't.

Moments ago he was cutting up a carrot and putting it into a $17 dollar fine metal bowl, with a finger in his mouth, because he cut himself.

Moments ago he was smoking a ciggarette, talking to the man who was taking care of his lawn.

Now, he was falling apart.

The television had pictures of waves, crashing into the houses of Hoenn. It showed cars, people, being sweapt away. Being flicked in the water, like flies, and sliding away through the watery destruction. Everything water, everything trashed. The world seemed to be slipping away through the universes hands, and there was nothing anyone could do.

And Green cried, he cried because he realized he was so ungreatful. So pretentious. So helpless.

Life is a party, for some people. But those who have it made, never realize that the party doesn't last forever. And they haven't the strength, when it ends. Nothing matters, not money or love, or even smarts. It's strength.

Green couldn't breathe well, it was unbearable to watch the tragedy. So he quietly turned of the TV, and sat, staring into the blank screen.

Then Greens phone rang, and he got up from the chair, and walked to the kitchen. He answered it.

"Hello? Oh, it's ok. I'm fine-" Green spoke into the speaker, pausing. "That sounds fine, lunch at two. Yeah, no everythings fine. It's great. Ok, bye."

Everything's fine. Everything's swell. Everything's great. Everything's grand.

Here.

 

[AetherX]

Wow. This almost perfectly embodies my own views on life and I guess, fate. We don't realize what we have until its taken away from us. We don't worry about what could happen. After all, that's the sort of thing that always happens to someone else. But in the words of one of my favorite Calvin and Hobbes strips: "We're all somebody else to everyone else."

Maybe that's not exactly what you were trying to convey here, but that's more or less what I got out of it. Or something similar to it, at least. Fate, death, they're depressing subjects, but sometimes they have to be brought up. Overall, I really enjoyed this. Although perhaps enjoyed isn't the right word. It stood out to me. Well done.

 

[Cabaret]

Well this is something I could talk about for hours, but generally,I believe we are all just living life (most of us anyway...) not having a care in the world about anyone but us and our loved ones. And then life appears.

There is no avoiding, really. For a long stretch of time in my life, there were no deaths in my family. Everything was fine and I didn't really have a worry or a care. Then someone dies, and this is the last thing I am expecting. I didn't know how to react. I didn't know how long I should be greiving. I wasn't prepared.

Now innocence and experience are the two things I try to have, and a constant amount of strength.

A quote I love from the great William Finn is- "Unlike us, these kids don't shed tears, I wish them wonderful careers, and also luck when life appears.

Ultimatly, yes. That is exactly what I was going for.

 

[---]

Well look at the poem and song writer going adventurous! You made your true colors shine. Good quote. Might use that on Akoha.

 

[Cabaret]

Thank you for the compliment! I really haven't written anything pokemon related ( that isn't a poem or a song) that I've truly had a real understanding for. Roxanne was just really depressing, and wasn't going to change. I'm hoping that I can take my own experiences and fit them into my writing. Days Like This, will hopefully get a steady recurring theme, where I'll be able to show my skills ( if you've read it, I can assure you, it isn't what it looks like).

 

[Cabaret]

Here is another response I wrote a few days after this that I never posted, I never did like this part as much as the first. Plus it was short. But as far as something like this, I don't think length matters.

Part Two

We travel through this complicated world, unknowing what the next twist or turn will be. People come and go, passing through our lives. Things seperate from each other. And new bonds are formed constantly. We can only cherish what we have for the mean time, until it's time to fight the battle again.

Green clutched the wheel of the car, as if his life depended on it. The blurring street signs and unclean wilderness were not going to set him back. The sky was grey, a storm was afoot. And Green's speed was doubling by the minute. No shame in tears. People can care about people they don't know, right? This was a sick joke.

The turn of the wheel at such speed ruptured the car, sending goosbumps up Greens spine. His heart was beating rapidly enough to kill an unhealthy man. The pain reserves.

Images of people in death and dispair, of homes in turmoil, of trees in destruction, of innocent creatures in peril. Flooding the mind.

Green finally screeched to a halting stop. What stood before him was just like what the tv made it out to be. He couldn't believe it. He didn't want to believe it. There were others, they were part of a task force to rescue those that were under the rubble or being crushed by the impact. But it was a wasteland with not a person in sight, besides the rescuers. The wind picking up and tossed debris here and there, forcing the team to stop their seach and head to safety.

"Aren't you going to keep looking?" Green asked one of the seachers.

"Policy says that we can't when a storm's brewing." the man shrugged as he wadded back to a car.

Green was going to leave as well, but just as he was about to, something moving in the rubble caught his eye. He called to the worker, telling him of his find, but he didn't hear him. Green rushed to the movement, just as a perfect rain was starting to work up a storm.

The tragedy in Japan wasn't a passing phase, it wasn't something that was avoidable, and it wasn't something that was going to be recoverable.

It was the end of the world.

To some.

 

[LibraSnakes13]

Sometimes, the many forms of art (movies, visual art, music and literature) can be used to entertain, to inspire or to make the viewer think. But other times, it is used as a form of expression for the artist in question. Whether it be positive or negative, the purpose of this supposed art is to lift the burden that may be upon the artist.

The first post reminds me of how I sometimes retreat to my piano and play mournful tunes that help may the sorrow easier. I improv on the spot and follow the road that my fingers take me. However, my improv means that the music I create does not always sound smooth and appealing; it can be riddled with dissonant and clunking sounds at time. In this case, your unplanned and unscripted writing is a neat parallel to it. For once, the errors of grammar does not hurt the writing but instead strengthens as it shows that what you write is true and straight from the heart and nothing else.

This piece does expose the essential selfishness of man. It's one of those mindsets where one may think "That tragedy is awful but rare, so it will never happen in my life." It's that special moment when the tragedy happens to us that we realize we're not as immortal as we seen. I've only until recently begin to believe the notion that a writer can not alleviate himself to a higher standard of writing until he has experience true tragedy. From true tragedy he can know true happiness and from here he can weave a story that can bring the reader in and control his emotions like a violinist to his respected instrument.

*cough*I know this is not a true review of your story but I don't know how to critique something that is so unique as this. But I highly encourage you to write anything that may unburden your soul and make you feel, even if it's small, just a little better at the end of the day.

 

[Cabaret]

.....

I'll take that as a "Yes!"

No, but seriously, i understand what you were talking about, and the piece did take a lot of care to it's creation. I'm glad it made you think.