Friday, April 24, 2009
RICHIE - CHAPTER SIX (Twitter Novel / Keitai Shosetsu)
so i look up ah pook online
and it takes me awhile but i
find it and ive kind of got
richie on something
so i go down to his room in
the dorm and i knock and go
in and its totally messy in
there with heaps of clothes
and piles of books all over
the place and he doesnt have
a computer not even one of
those ancient word
processors
theres just this typing thing
on his desk with the paper
right in it and its huge and
shiny and black like my
grandmas sewing machine
and the sheets and
pillowcases on the bed where
hes lying are black too which
weirds me out because all i
can think of
is that sheets like those would
totally show beat off stains
but i guess maybe richie isnt
the type to beat off even
though hed be
the first one i ever met richie
leans up on his elbow and
puts his book down goes
–hey- and hes not super
psyched to see me
but he doesnt seem irritated
either so i walk over and go
–hey i looked up ah pook-
and he says –oh really what
did you find-
but before i can answer i see
what hes got decorating the
wall over his bed and its all
pictures and articles
from magazines and tabloids
and what looks like crime
scene photos and its all about
the salinas high school
shooting
and im like -what the fuck is
all this- and he looks up and
goes -oh that- like its totally
normal
and im like -uh yeah- and
he goes -why do you ask-
kind of thoughtfully and i go
–it just seems really
depressing to me-
he looks back over to me and
goes -really do you think so
because i dont i find it really
interesting and kind of
-exciting- and im like -you
find pointless murder
exciting- and he waves his
hand dismissively
-not the murder part so much
that was just kind of an
unfortunate by-product- and
i snort -oh really-
but he just goes on like i
didnt say anything -but
pointless thats just not true
not pointless everything they
did was planned
-and i mean everything i
think they even planned out
when they were gonna shoot
each other and where-
im getting pretty grossed out
-you think they planned it so
theyd end up in the cafeteria
that doesnt make any sense-
-no no i meant where on
their bodies- and richie
makes a gun with his hand
and points it grinning at his
face
and im like -oh- and he goes
-so they couldnt have open
caskets at their funerals-
and im like -oh- again
he sits all the way up on the
bed -youre one to get all
weird about it dee dee you
were like one step away
yrself-
i wince -yeah man but i
dont think it was cool or
anything like that it was just
something i did
-i can actually barely
remember anything about
that day- and richie shrugs
-fair enough-
then he goes on -but what i
was saying before was that
nothing about it was pointless
like no one notices the
importance of the date-
and im like -the date- and he
goes -yeah december first
twelve-oh-one- and he looks
at me all expectantly and i
have no idea why
he sighs -its a time 12:01
one minute after midnight its
a new day- he sits back
smiling -yesterdays gone
-too late to change the past-
and he looks satisfied but i
think about it for a minute
and go -but 12:01 couldnt
that be
- one minute after noon too-
and he processes what i said
and goes -what the fuck
would that symbolize-
and i think for a second and
smile -lunch- and richie
stares at me unblinking for
like a minute then looks away
then back to me
-okay you get a pass on that
one because thats actually
really funny- he shakes his
head chuckles -it
symbolizes lunch you
asshole
- so anyway what did you
find out about ah pook- and i
remember i want to catch him
off guard so i have to say it
exactly
-you spelled it wrong but
other than that the stuff you
told me was all pretty much
right-
and he goes -what do you
mean i spelled it wrong- and
im like -its ah P-U-C-H- and
hes all –no its not
-in the burroughs book he
spells it P-O-O-K its an
accepted variation- and i
smile -yeah i know about
the burroughs book
-but thats like a character if
you were gonna do it for real
you should have spelled it
like the mayans did- and hes
a little pissed
-what the fuck do you know
about the mayans- and im
like -enough to know that if
im gonna write some shit on
the wall
-im gonna spell it right- and
he just sighs and drops back
onto the bed -whatever dee
dee if it werent for the
goddamn interwebs
-you wouldnt know anything-
and im starting to feel like i
pushed too hard and lost my
advantage somehow
but then i see it on the far
side of the bed behind him
and i totally forget all that –is
that do you have a teddy
bear-
he sits back up grins picks
up the bear -sure- then after
a second -i dont like to sleep
alone dee dee- then drops
back down and rolls over
with his book -see yrself out-
and he totally waves me off
and as im leaving im thinking
that even though i basically
made him admit
to me that he did the graffiti
he somehow told me less
about him than i ended up
telling him about me
//again//
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8 comments:
You had me hooked. I don't know really how I feel at the end of it and I suspect that might be part of your plan too... in-ter-esting. :)
It is fantastic Jason. I just repeat myself over and over, standing ovation for all the reasons I have said before.
yeah i like it too, nice rhythm, really flowing.
i added u to my buboneka blogroll, a blog where i post a twitter novel too, but in french.
http://buboneka.blogspot.com
narnie - you got it. richie's not just a smart kid. there's some weird shit swimming around in there.
paul - you just repeat yrself all you like, pallie. it always makes my day.
leroy - thanks for checking out the blog, and for the blogroll entry! my french is horrendously rusty (last time i even tried speaking/understanding was 1992 when i spent a month in paris) but i will do my best with yr work. thanks again!
- every moment of awareness is a pile of interpretations all in
superposition. A single state of mind is layered with harmonics of
meaning - yet somehow remains one experience.(susan blackmore)
brilliant, a clear sense of who, but with the i character holding the frame, on the subdued drama, on himself
Jason. I've been returning to this again and again. Going back and reading the earlier chapters and I'd like to offer some deep and meaningful response but all I can come up with right now is damn this is shit hot. I admit that I have never been good with narratives that contain multiple characters. I only realised that recently and thought, hey, that explains why I always fell for the stories about shipwrecked types and solo navigators confronting insurmountable odds. On and on I go. Language is intuited. Characters are understood. Maybe that's what you're proving here. Thanks. And thanks for the warning too. I'll keep my rear eye mirror clean.
mariana & tipota & maekitso - thank you all for your very individual, very intelligent, very positive commentary. nothing pleases me more than moving you folks enough to write me about it. much appreciated.
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