#this happened to my buddy gorje once

[tr4p4nr0t]

Silence. I have a complicated relationship with silence. I frequently say I enjoy it, yet I always seem to break it. A poem I think of often says:

"I killed a plant once because I gave it too much water.

Lord, I worry that love is violence."

And I think to myself, perhaps my love is the kind that leaves you with a burnt tongue too. I can never be sure.

But I always disturb the silence.

I put on music, I talk to myself. I whistle. I scream and I have a really loud laugh and I love telling stories with endless unnecessary details. And if I personally dont make any noise myself- I accidentally bump into something. That something is always very fragile and barely holding onto life already. That something falls. Then it breaks. And then it lets out the most gut-wrenching, soul-shattering, guilt-inducing screech known to man.

Nothing is silent about me.

Except for the way I walk.

I can't help it. I move around in such silent manner, if I don't speak and let people know I'm approaching beforehand I always startle them. I suppose I can never put my foot down on the ground hard enough. The way I come is quiet. Scares you if you didn't see me.

Usually they don't see me.

I enjoy silence, even if I carry too little of it in my existence. Even if I can't protect it's presence.

We're sitting side by side, knees touching together. My legs are numb- I know because I clutched onto them to stop my hands from shaking and the legs i gripped didn't feel mine. We chat and joke around. It's nothing serious, it never is. We have a strict rule about not talking of things that actually matter. That could change something. We ignore what won't let us rest. It's alright though, because he laughs at all of my jokes. It's so effortless. Every single story I tell entertains him. He likes the way I play with words, make impressions, silly sound effects- I like the way he looks when he tries to hide his chuckle, the way his whole body shakes and the way his eyes just light up at the stupidest stuff ever. And somewhere in between, he reaches out. It's over for me, I know. I hold his hand. It's cold. My body is always warm. I think of everything then, all at once. Millions of possibilities cross my mind while I realize in very, very few of them I wouldn't want to keep his hands warm for the rest of my days. It's a painful revelation. Not long after I find myself half naked, kneeling before him. For a brief moment I find myself thinking- being on the deathrow wouldn't feel much different than this.

I kiss him. I sink my teeth into his flesh. I claw at him. Because I know. I know if I don't, he'll slip out of my fingers. I wrap my arms tightly around his waist. I hold him so close we end up sharing a breath. I t's not enough.

He doesn't touch me.

He doesn't kiss me either, not even once.

He doesn't hold me back.

He makes sure I won't be able to fool myself into saying ''Oh it's fine, His body was the only thing I wanted anyways. I used him as well.''

My shoulders are freezing. I only realize just how cold I am when his hand accidentaly brushes against my arm and his warmth makes me flinch.

I should've kept my shirt on.

It's around then when the lights go off. I realize they have a motion sensor. Also, when the light goes off, so does the ventilator. And that constant buzzing noise that accompanied us was, in fact, produced by the said ventilator.

Now it's dark.

More importantly, it's silent.

I take a break and pull him closer. I rest my head on his stomach.

I love the silence, so naturally, I ruin it.

''Have you missed me?'' I whisper, as quietly as one can possibly.

He doesn't answer.

Nothing is silent about me.

Except for the way I cry.

Soon after, he's done. He doesn't wait for me, doesn't look me in the eyes. Only thing he can offer at that point, is a weak apology.

I leave, as quiet as I came.

[johnisthewarlus]

baking on a cornflake part 15

ringo: whare am i? it doesn’t fel like i’ve been sleeping, just existing. it feels like i was in a coma. i don’t even open my eyes because they were never closed. my mind starts glowing but not the world around me. “hello” i hear. “who’s theri?!” i yelp in fear. the voice is deep yet soothing and very echo-y. it chuckles. “no need to fear, little one. i’m a messenger of the gods. you’re in heaven.” “oh” i say “cool.” the voice replies “wait so you’re not gonna like freak out that you’re dead?” “eh been there done that” i say. i hear some pages flipping. “are you that beatle” the voice asks. “yea” i say. “oh jesus has something to say to you man” the voice says. then i hear a bunch of little footsteps and this glowing man walks up to me and jabs his finger into my chest. “hey tell you’re friend i didn’t like that beatles are bigger than jesus thing” he says angrily. looking at his long beard and hair, i realize that it is jesus. i put my hand on his head and drag it to my nose. “see? short” i say. his face goes blank and he walks away. i hear a microphone screech like when joj unplugs his guitar. a glowing shape comes to me but its shape is never definite. i couldn’t even tell you what colour it is. it speaks and i realize it’s the voice from the mic. “Come with me” it says. i begin to walk but we’re suddenly already wherever we’re supposed to be. “This is the waiting room” he says “You’ll be here for 24 hours and after that you can’t get resurrected so you can go to your permanent room.” he turns to leave. “wait i have a question” i say. he listens. “so were the Christians right? because of jesus and god and everything.” “whatever you believe happens after death is wat happens after death” he tells me and walks away. i supposed geo will be excited to meet the man with the many hands.

george: i can feel rinchar’s temperature dropping. my heart pounds. pal holds my hand and smiles at me. it calms me a bit. joh looks at us and scowls for a second but then pretends he didn’t. “we’ll be there soon” he says “the submarine gps says the cave is right heri.” and what do you know, the sub settles down on a rock and we put on our mermaid tails and go into the ocean. ring’s tail is bright pink, same as his sgt peppers outfit. i knock on the door of the cave. it gets opened up by a friendly looking blue octopus. he smiles at us and it about to say hello but then he notices rinc and grabs him and runs inside. we follow him in. “you gonna do a ceremony or something like yok?” jonny asks. “no” oswald the octopus explains “that can only be performed once. now our only hope is to call heaven and tell them to send ring home.” my eyes dilate. “that’s it?” i scream “that’s all we can do? just ask? i need a guarantee. this can’t be.” oswald shrugs. i cry and pul hugs me. he plays with my hair. i look at his eyes and he calms me and the waters around us. oswald grabs the telephone that’s still plugged into jon’s arsehole.

oswald: “hello?” i say into the telepone. the voice on the other end is groggy and mumbly. “who is this? it’s 3am. granted it’s every hour here but wat do you want?” “i’m calling to ask a favour” i tell him. “who do you want me bringing back to life at this hour?” he asks, still annoyed. “ringo starr” i say “he should be a fairly new arrival.” he stops to think. “ring... ringo.... hmmm... oh that guy?” he says “you want me bringing him back? i’ve already brought him back once. he’s had his second chance.” “well it’s a legal matter now” i say. “oh yeah? and wat law is it breaking?” he says. some sweat forms on my forehead (which is actually just absence of matter because i live under the sea) as i realize i don’t actually have a legal reason. frantically, i point to the law book on my counter and geor hands it to me. i flip thru with my remaining 7 hands but one of the tentacles gets stuck on a page. i accidentally rip it out. i’m trying to shove it back in when i notice the words ‘time travel.’ “hello? i haven’t got all day” the voice on the phone says. oh btw the voice is god. anyway “just a moment” i say. i speed read the page and under clause B4, there it is!!!! “yes i’m calling because i belive that ringo’s death break clause B4 of the law book” i say. god says something in the distance to his secretary and returns to the phone. “ok buddy well i’ll tell you wat” he says. my eyes perk. “i’ve just set a court date with my secretary. you guys can come argue your case as long as you can be here by 2:30” he continues. “that’s two minutes from now!” i screech “how are we supposed to get a lawyer on time?” “sounds like a you problem” he says and hangs up.

john: our of nowhere, i feel a tug on my shoulder. i turn around and it’s george martin. when did he get here? “i’m a lawyer!” he says. we all cheer. oswald hands us all pills. “these are temporary pills” he says “they allow us to die for a brief period of time and heaven is required to send us back within one week.” we pop the pills in without hesitation and instantly collapse.

next thing i know, we’re outside a grand courthouse and there are angels flying everywhere. we walk inside and everything’s trimmed with gold and emerald. a lot like bri’s wedding. we’re also luckily still in the suits from his wedding so we look all fancy. george martin reads clause B4 over and over again. we sit down at a table that’s at a different side of the court from the other people. “here ye here ye” the judge says banging his gavel and that “lets do this thing.” “wait” i say “do we get to see rigno?” “not unless you win” the judge says. gorje huffs. “anyway, prosecutor or whichever one you are, present your argument.” george martin stands up. “your honor we believe that the death of ringo starr breaks clause B4 of the law book...”

george martin: “...you see, in this clause, it clearly states that somebody who should be dead but has time traveled into the future is not allowed to kill someone of the future’s time. ringo was killed by a founding father, meaning that his killer should’ve been dead at the time of the murder” i state. “that’s a pretty good point george martin” the judge thinks outloud. the other team of defendants or something reply, “your honor, while the prosecutor or... while george martin’s argument would be right in usual circumstances, these were not normal circumstances. if you’d turn to page 1,789 of the law book, it clearly states that strawberry fields has no time and endless time and that time travel technically does not count there. therefore, the founding fathers did not travel to the future to kill ringo because they physically couldn’t.” “damn shots fired” says the judge “anything in response, george martin?” “your honor, if we could please take a quick recess?” i say. the judge nods. we go outside the courtroom and huddle. “so wats our plan?” jhon asks. i bite my lip “i don’t have one.....”