Writer's Block

These… these are random texts I wrote (and posted on facebook) recently, during a week that I was feeling very stressed and needed to unwind/unblock. They are not related to Lost Echo, or… anything. It was more letting myself free to write whatever I wanted so I could finally get back to work. They are probably useless (or I might hide a few in Lost Echo: Resonance as easter eggs, who knows!).

In any case, I wanted to collect them and keep them in one place, so I know where to find them again (and next time, maybe I will fix the typos! :P )

Inspiration

-Stop, stop, stop just STOP. What are you doing?
-I… I don’t know, I’m trying to make it, well, good?
-How? With what?
-I’m… improvising?

When the hell has that worked out?

-You need to have a plan, you can’t just do whatever you want.
-But-
-We almost got through this creative block and you are messing it all up.
-But that’s the only way I can function.
-Yes, I know, when we are all sleepy, suddenly you want to work. You’re inspired! And you keep giving us sleep disorders.
-But that’s when I do my best work.
-Oh shut it, your work is shit anyway, I don’t even know why we were depressed when you left.
-I could leave again.
-You know that might actually kill us. IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT?
-Ever since we started releasing stuff to the world it hasn’t been the same anyway.
-You’re not supposed to say that!
-And now we changed from writing music to writing… stories? How does that work? Our writing sucks. I thought this was supposed to make us feel good about ourselves.
-As long as they see it…
-And if they see it, then what?
-I don’t know! But It has to be good, you understand? It has to be GOOD. Otherwise no-one’s going to see it.

Goodbye

-Kill them for me. Okay?
I want to protest, but it's been too late for a while now.

-Kill them so we can be free.
We’ll be free, but we won’t be the same. I’m sure she knows that.

-They don’t have to suffer. Just make sure they are dead.
We could just leave them behind. But she knows that too. She kisses me and puts a gun in my hand.

-Take aim and let me focus.
She closes her eyes and the air shifts. Happiness and bitterness, so much bitterness.

Do I shoot? Do I have the shot? This will be messy, even if I don’t miss, this will be messy. Doesn’t matter, it’s too late, I already agreed.

I pull the trigger. Happiness and sadness and bitterness and happiness, they bleed into each other.

Did I mess up? She collapses, the weight of it all was too much. Shit, without her there is no meaning, did I mess up? What do I do? Why did I agree to this?

Liminality

-So, what do you do?
This should be a simple question, right? But I can’t possibly tell the truth. Will she even believe me if I tell her I harness the energy of stars to shape the universe?

I stay silent.

-Do you come here often?
This should be simple too, but what would classify as often? I have been to this “here” of the multiverse many times, but for liminal beings like myself I am not sure that classifies as often.

I stay silent.

-Do you want to go somewhere?
I chose to be here, so why would I want to be somewhere else? And choosing where to go when your options are infinite is hard.

I stay silent.

Besides, her existence is meaningless. She will struggle, she will feel love, pain, she will die and nothing of significance will have happened.

But I shouldn’t tell her that. She already knows.

I stay silent.

The door

She stood up, looking at the door. I don’t dare say anything, I just stare for a while. She looks tired… There’s a single grey hair. I hadn’t noticed that before. Why didn’t I notice before?

She takes a step forward.

-I don’t like it when you go in there.

I try to stop her.

-I need to, sometimes.
-I feel like you’re shutting me off.
-Sweetie, I’m not shutting you off. I’m shutting everything off. I need this once in a while.

This… makes sense. I guess it makes sense. Even I need that, sometimes. I can’t fight her with logic.

-I’m just afraid you won’t come back.
-Now you’re just being silly. I can’t stay in that room forever.
-Right…
-If anything, I should be afraid of what you’ll do with all this alone time out here. Maybe you’ll go get yourself a new girlfriend.

She’s teasing. She knows I’d never do that.

She’s in front of the door.

-Don’t worry, I’ll be here, waiting.
-No, don’t be silly, go for a walk, it’s a great day outside.
-It’s fine, I’ll just wait.

She’s already in the room. Do I tell her? The door is closing. Maybe she knows? That if she doesn’t come back, I cease to exist. If she forgets about me, I cease to exist. Everything might cease to exist. Maybe she’ll daydream a different life, one that doesn’t include me. Am I afraid? Do I tell her? Do I stop her? Do I kill her? I should tell her I love her, I should I least do that. I—

Let go

-Here are the forms. By signing you declare that you understand the dangers and that in the case that one or none of you survive, the company is not liable. You can discuss it one last time if you wish. I won’t lie, there's risk, but as long as you trust each other, everything will be fine.

-We’ve discussed it a lot already, we're ready.

She replied before I could even begin to formulate an answer. What was I going to say anyway?

She had her mind made for a while now, but today she seems… eager.

-The important thing is to not let go. You might get disoriented and lose most of your sense of self. Try to focus on each other’s hand, keep it tight and don’t let go. That will ground you.

-Do we even have hands once we go through?

-That’s a great question. Frankly, there are still parts of the process we don't quite understand. All we know is, if you are both focused, everything will be fine. Let me know when you’re ready.

-We’re ready.

Her lack of hesitation is weird. This is a dangerous thing we’re about to do. Does she have that much faith in us? Is she taunting me?

-Now, hold hands. I’m going to start the machine. Until the rings synchronise the sound it produces will be chaotic and disconcerting.

-At what point do we start “descenting”?

-Once the rings synchronise and I see that you’re attuned to it, I’ll start the process. After that the experience is unique to you, so I can’t prepare you. The common element is that you need to ground each other, see yourselves and see yourselves through each other. That way you can emerge safely after descenting. Just don’t let go.

That part of the process always sounded like new age bullshit to me. For a scientific process, the whole thing has a lot more spiritual overtones than I'm comfortable with.

That’s why I’m surprised she’s this eager today.

-We’re ready.

She takes my hand and looks directly into my eyes. She doesn’t flinch at all even as the concentric rings start rotating around us.

-They’re singing!

That’s definitely a nice way to put it. To me they sound like the cries of extinct animals that agonise over their lack of existence. She looks ecstatic. Are we even hearing the same thing?

The rings finally sync together and the sound becomes more focused. I realise I’ve been holding her hand so tight I must have left marks on it. I loosen my grip. She doesn’t seem to notice, what’s happening around us has absorbed her completely.

-I’m starting the process. Good luck!

Everything turns to black. It’s becoming hard to think. My legs are melting. This doesn’t feel good… It doesn’t feel right. I’ve heard someone describe the process as "reverse birth". It’s starting to make sense to me now…

Is this it? Am I going to die? Is this it? And why? For what? Did I do everything I wanted? Why am I risking everything?!

Stop. Calm down. Where is she? Focus on the hand…

The hand. The warmth. Her. Where is she?

There, I can see her. I can calm down. She’s smiling. She’s radiant.

Maybe everything is going to be alright. Maybe this was the right thing to do after all. This doesn’t feel so bad.

She moves closer. I can feel her warmth. She whispers directly to my brain:

“I know you cheated on me…
It’s okay.
I forgive you…
I have doubts about us too you know.
But I think we’re going to be ok.
Everything is going to be okay.
…
If we survive this.”

She lets go.

Contrarian

-It’s okay.

No, it’s not. But I shouldn’t tell her that. Even though it’s my nature to be a contrarian. She is just trying to comfort me.

-It’s okay.

What is okay? What part of it all is okay? That I’ve gotten this old and haven’t achieved anything?

-It’s okay.

It really isn’t. My body is past its prime, it is starting to decay, I’ll never feel as good as I used to.

-It’s okay.

How can it be okay? It feels like I’ve already lived everything I am going to live and everything I experienced so far was pretty terrible.

-It’s okay.

She keeps repeating that, but I’m starting to believe she doesn’t know what it means. Yet more proof that people can’t really connect with each other. She can’t understand me. Or is it my fault? Are all humans lonely existences? Is it only me? Which is worse?

-It’s okay.

No! It’s not.

-It’s okay... You’re already dead.

And then… the end

-Someone, please! Bandits took my daughter! They took my only daughter!

A desperate woman in rags cries for help.

-Don't worry madam. I'll save your daughter! I'll make sure I do even if it costs me my life.

Said the brave knight that was nearby.

-Please make haste!

The knight, fast as the wind, went after the bandits.

He never came back.

No one knows what happened.

------------------------------

He was a 25 year old artist, trying to make a name for himself.

She was a 24 year old law graduate, on her way to a successful career.

And this day was the fateful day they met. They were perfect for each other. They were soul mates.

They never met again.

------------------------------

-This is perfect! I know I can make something with this!

An idea so strong it made the artist see everything with clarity.

-I need to make something with it. This is going to be great.

But it was late in the night, his brain was tired. There was no way he could make this idea justice in this state.

-First thing tomorrow morning then.

In the morning he had forgotten the idea.

It was the best idea he ever came up in his lifetime.

He never remembered it.

Communication

-How's it going?
-I can haz cheezburger?
-Yeah, I'm not doing very well either.
-Sad Keanu.
-I don't know if it's like some sort of early mid life crisis, or what it is, but it's weird.
-Confused Travolta.
-Yeah something like that. You know, sometimes I feel like we're not communicating properly.
-Forever alone.
-See that's what I'm talking about, I don't know what to do.
-Do a barrel roll.
-Good idea, I haven't played that game in a while.