Storytelling Days 07 ~Candy Colors~ 29

Stories about girls wearing glasses 02.
13- Just a Copy II.


~Writing something unique~
Its not difficult to realize when you have lived enough life, youthful age of lovely past, that everything comes from a mold, and experience is shaped after that. So to write something unique, is much more complicated than it sounds.
From the vagabond begging for food to the ruler drooling in booze, everything they have and live for is just a repetition of a set of conditions which met once more, in the sleazy disguise of unique by the ego, from the woman they rape to the ones they do pay, emotional anesthetic to live through the day, running away from fears so primitive, all the way to the latest fashion of good, its the same point, such social conduct, I even doubt the establishment has any idea of what to do, its just animals running in loop, other than just remain in control and take advantage, theres nothing left to do. The dices roll and pieces move, but thats it, nothing outside the rules of the game, everything repeats one way or the other, the whole meaning of life is to go through the same experiences, the only difference is the quality of such, based on social status, power, skills, etc; no matter the combination, the range of results remain the same, bubbles of meaning trap an individual, with a so called logic that apparently stays, it takes it high in the sky, only to naturally pop and let it fall to die.
In the arrogance after fear, some invoke the winning team, its hard to realize some hope, when even the most powerful in their hoard, cant do any other than creating a circus of fools, thats probably why fads are so nice, to entertain the mentally poor cattle waiting to die.
So, to write something unique… its just about the sense of it, the colors may change but the structures are based on the same that has happened countless times before, the same materials which have been there since ever ago, and its such a long way to the first ape, then to the first cell, it just, holds no meaning anymore, even if you can travel so fast, when you can skip the same repeated times, why would I go back? is there something for me to watch?
=What do you call love? “well, I call it Harry”.
come on, please, Im being serious, what do you call love?
is it more than the hearts xerographic?
“time has no meaning, no future, no past, you dont have to ask
theres never enough time to hold love in your grasp
turning time around”.=

~Notes of the Strange Behavior~
Mother is certainly a very peculiar and interesting woman, I could focus investigations in more than plenty aspects of her being, an open study would be the greatest of gifts, yet, she does not appreciate when someone treats her as special, maybe because of her natural and grown suspicion. The popular term is called mind reading, though in this case would not be that accurate, because is more than that, and thats only one of her many skills, she can tear your mind apart, and she has done it many times.
I have been interested in many methods to gather her attention, a door to the place I wish to be the most, only actively performing those which could heavily relate to the events in motion, any missed step towards desire, out of the balance of a situation, could provoke a domino fall to the end of this research, even in the endless pain of boredom, I must not forget that.
Mother is naturally a social being, its even ridiculous to mention that, just a way to indicate the next chain of thoughts, cause, she doesnt really have any friends, to my impression, women friends are likely impossible, her social status normally leads to jealousy or defensive hatred; at an emotional level she doesnt share the trends they follow to express themselves; her businesses are successful due to her own means, too far for others, so it also turns partnerships into dust, other women in what could be called her line, cannot follow her where she goes, and then they hate her for that, and for the results she achieves, better said, what they believe it is.
Men are attracted to Mother by her looks and carefree strong attitude, either by hate, lust or love, it is the same coin, they do follow after her, yet its only a shallow attraction, or just a piece of their own perspective, in the very end, they do feel nothing for her, and it all becomes a dance in a savage realm.
Mother has become a professional assassin, cause I couldnt find a better term, I know, this can be the end, Ive seen the cycles and perfectly know where it leads, its something I found after so many study years.
Whats left for now is the most delicious of sins, to find a way for me to see.

~Mothers Theatric Tragedy of the Death~
Recreation of reality is the power to embrace, through the shaping by lines and vibrations, its the only thing I have really cared. I write this with my last strength, cause, theres nothing left to do, this, my works, has been the pleasure of my life and also, such meaning for it.
She holds a fancy knife in the air, like a pen hovering in space, writing a thousand lines with a pass, creating such loud unforgetting sound, fight back as nature instinct intends? its just because you dont understand, she took my strength and did not give back, it started when she said to herself, she is speaking a lot to herself, lately, and then to tell:
“Now that I remember, she said she started to write
Looking for a good time
Of course her brother would follow too
Only to listen Im sure
So I locked them in the kitchen at night
Theres plenty there to kill time
A snack for dinner while I eat for my mind
I wonder what she left behind
And there in her room I found
Everything she has done at my back.”


“Youre the one who dies, why should I mind?
About endless and empty swings of the kind
Colors change from mood to ages
And your existence to not even remember
I have developed such power to crush
Its not just narcissistic or such
Silent still is there to hold
You know, if you could make the rules
Why do I even bother to tell you?
You belong to a world that eats its own
A circle that leads nowhere at all
Dont you see? its just a copy
And Ill do it again, one last time
Its not like I wanted you to see
How this all ends for me”.


Easy Mister Comment Space, Yun Yun.

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