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rainbowfic2015-07-14 07:56 am
starphotographs) wrote in rainbowfic2015-07-14 07:56 am
Alien Green 19
Name: starphotographs
Story: Corwin and Friends
Supplies and Styles: Graffiti (Summer Carnival), Glitter (http://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/ever)
Characters: Corwin (POV), Martin
Colors: Alien Green 19 (Please explain to me the scientific nature of the "whammy.")
Word Count: 812
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Choose not to warn.
Summary: Martin tries to explain the unexplainable. Corwin tries to comprehend the incomprehensible.
Note: Um, enjoy, I guess. XD I just thought that poem was perfect and had to write this.
(The) Nothing You Can’t Understand
“Martin, what’s it like being you?”
He’d been blanked-out for a little under an hour, and was looking straggly and confused. And I guess he wasn’t in any mood to answer questions, especially not questions I’d already asked him a million times, but when he froze in place on the couch, it started bugging me again. Maybe I just hadn’t gotten him at the right time when I asked him before. When I asked him minutes or hours later. When he’d already forgotten what it was like to not-be.
“Well, what’s it like being you? What’s it like being anyone?”
Considering the situation, he had every right to be caustic. That wasn’t what bothered me. I was bothered by yet another non-answer. And as long as I was going to be bothered, I figured it couldn’t hurt to bother him.
“No, I mean, when you blank out like that… And after the accident…”
“…Yeah?”
He was looking tired. Like he wanted to lie down. I slid off the couch and sat on the floor.
“I dunno… I mean… What’s being dead like?”
Martin settled into the couch, and we were eye-to-eye for a few seconds, but then he turned onto his back and stared up at the off-white ceiling.
“It’s not like anything, Corwin. You don’t exist.”
“But you always say you remember it.”
“And I do.”
“But how do you remember not existing?”
He squinted up at the ceiling, like he hoped it would inspire him. Give him a way to describe an off-white state of mind. Except, it wasn’t even off-white. It was no color at all. Even using that metaphor was a probable sign that I wouldn’t, and couldn’t, ever understand.
“Same as you remember anything else, I guess.”
“Dammit, Martin… You know what I mean.”
“Actually, I’m not sure what you mean. The hell are you driving at?”
Now it just looked like he was getting a headache. Or a somewhere-ache at least. From the way he was lying, perfectly straight, it was probably his back. I made a note to get him his pain pills next time I got the chance.
“Okay… If you’re not there to remember it, what can you remember?”
“Not being there.”
No shit, jackass.
“But how does that feel?”
“Like nothing.”
Martin never believed in simplifying or clarifying things, and assumed that anyone who didn’t understand what he had to say, as he said it, was, in his own words, a “fuckin’ Morlock,” and not worth talking to, anyway. Which was asshole behavior in any context, but the fact that he even seemed to apply it to things that were literally beyond human comprehension just made him seem ridiculous.
“…Are you not going to let this conversation get anywhere?”
“Hey, it’s not my fault if it’s not getting anywhere. Blame the language. It doesn’t have a way to describe something no one ever thought anyone would experience. We have a thousand different ways to talk about nothingness, but no way to talk about how it feels. And why would we? Feeling like nothing isn’t possible.”
In this case, however, it looked like Martin himself was the one with the comprehension problems. I hope you feel like a giant dumbass now, jerk.
“But you do it all the time!”
Martin smirked.
“Yeah, well, I’m just that awesome.”
Not understanding didn’t make him think any less highly of himself. Leave it to Martin to finally have trouble with a concept, only for it to turn out to be something that everyone else was too far away from to even not-understand.
“If you’re so awesome, how about you make up an explanation, then.”
“I already have, and I’ve already given it to you, remember? I always say it’s like having a World’s Eye View of the World. But the world doesn’t have eyes, and can’t know it’s a world. Doesn’t that make enough sense?”
It made enough sense, but enough wasn’t enough for me to understand. I’d understood it in theory since the first time he’d tried to explain, but I didn’t care about understanding it in theory. Anyone can understand anything in theory, if someone explains it well enough. And Martin explained it very well. It’s just that his explanation couldn’t tell me how it felt. Martin, what’s it like being you?
Well, what’s it like being you?
“…Not really.”
“Corwin… It isn’t supposed to make sense. It can‘t make sense. And if it can‘t make sense, it‘s not worth worrying about.”
That was another thing I only understood in theory. In practice, the things that made no sense at all were the things that concerned me most. And, no matter how much I tried over the years, I could only articulate that to him as well as he could articulate nothingness to me.
What’s it like being anyone?
“I guess not.”
But still…
starphotographsStory: Corwin and Friends
Supplies and Styles: Graffiti (Summer Carnival), Glitter (http://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/ever)
Characters: Corwin (POV), Martin
Colors: Alien Green 19 (Please explain to me the scientific nature of the "whammy.")
Word Count: 812
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Choose not to warn.
Summary: Martin tries to explain the unexplainable. Corwin tries to comprehend the incomprehensible.
Note: Um, enjoy, I guess. XD I just thought that poem was perfect and had to write this.
“Martin, what’s it like being you?”
He’d been blanked-out for a little under an hour, and was looking straggly and confused. And I guess he wasn’t in any mood to answer questions, especially not questions I’d already asked him a million times, but when he froze in place on the couch, it started bugging me again. Maybe I just hadn’t gotten him at the right time when I asked him before. When I asked him minutes or hours later. When he’d already forgotten what it was like to not-be.
“Well, what’s it like being you? What’s it like being anyone?”
Considering the situation, he had every right to be caustic. That wasn’t what bothered me. I was bothered by yet another non-answer. And as long as I was going to be bothered, I figured it couldn’t hurt to bother him.
“No, I mean, when you blank out like that… And after the accident…”
“…Yeah?”
He was looking tired. Like he wanted to lie down. I slid off the couch and sat on the floor.
“I dunno… I mean… What’s being dead like?”
Martin settled into the couch, and we were eye-to-eye for a few seconds, but then he turned onto his back and stared up at the off-white ceiling.
“It’s not like anything, Corwin. You don’t exist.”
“But you always say you remember it.”
“And I do.”
“But how do you remember not existing?”
He squinted up at the ceiling, like he hoped it would inspire him. Give him a way to describe an off-white state of mind. Except, it wasn’t even off-white. It was no color at all. Even using that metaphor was a probable sign that I wouldn’t, and couldn’t, ever understand.
“Same as you remember anything else, I guess.”
“Dammit, Martin… You know what I mean.”
“Actually, I’m not sure what you mean. The hell are you driving at?”
Now it just looked like he was getting a headache. Or a somewhere-ache at least. From the way he was lying, perfectly straight, it was probably his back. I made a note to get him his pain pills next time I got the chance.
“Okay… If you’re not there to remember it, what can you remember?”
“Not being there.”
No shit, jackass.
“But how does that feel?”
“Like nothing.”
Martin never believed in simplifying or clarifying things, and assumed that anyone who didn’t understand what he had to say, as he said it, was, in his own words, a “fuckin’ Morlock,” and not worth talking to, anyway. Which was asshole behavior in any context, but the fact that he even seemed to apply it to things that were literally beyond human comprehension just made him seem ridiculous.
“…Are you not going to let this conversation get anywhere?”
“Hey, it’s not my fault if it’s not getting anywhere. Blame the language. It doesn’t have a way to describe something no one ever thought anyone would experience. We have a thousand different ways to talk about nothingness, but no way to talk about how it feels. And why would we? Feeling like nothing isn’t possible.”
In this case, however, it looked like Martin himself was the one with the comprehension problems. I hope you feel like a giant dumbass now, jerk.
“But you do it all the time!”
Martin smirked.
“Yeah, well, I’m just that awesome.”
Not understanding didn’t make him think any less highly of himself. Leave it to Martin to finally have trouble with a concept, only for it to turn out to be something that everyone else was too far away from to even not-understand.
“If you’re so awesome, how about you make up an explanation, then.”
“I already have, and I’ve already given it to you, remember? I always say it’s like having a World’s Eye View of the World. But the world doesn’t have eyes, and can’t know it’s a world. Doesn’t that make enough sense?”
It made enough sense, but enough wasn’t enough for me to understand. I’d understood it in theory since the first time he’d tried to explain, but I didn’t care about understanding it in theory. Anyone can understand anything in theory, if someone explains it well enough. And Martin explained it very well. It’s just that his explanation couldn’t tell me how it felt. Martin, what’s it like being you?
Well, what’s it like being you?
“…Not really.”
“Corwin… It isn’t supposed to make sense. It can‘t make sense. And if it can‘t make sense, it‘s not worth worrying about.”
That was another thing I only understood in theory. In practice, the things that made no sense at all were the things that concerned me most. And, no matter how much I tried over the years, I could only articulate that to him as well as he could articulate nothingness to me.
What’s it like being anyone?
“I guess not.”
But still…
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