Monday, June 6, 2011

Act Two scene Two

I want you to close your eyes

NOT NOW YOU DUNCE LATER JESUS YOU NEED YOUR EYES TO READ.

But I want you to close your eyes and imagine the place you feel safest.

I came from a town in the forest, you know? I lived in a tiny town in Connecticut when I was young. B
ut there was this lake.

A big ol' Reservoir that was flooded over the old town and a young Maurice and Brian and Rachael used to drive down to the Resevoir and sit on the hood of his truck and laugh and talk and later a young Maurice would lead Rachael into the water, and then into the woods...

But before those days, we swam through the resevoir, fished into it, climbed the trees around it, and on one occasion, a young young Maurice and Brian smoked a cigar between the two of them, the first tobacco either of us had ever smoked. As the sun set. We were eleven.

I went out there, yesterday on a lark and threw a whole box of cigars into the resevoir as far as I could, one by one. I like to think they sank down to the flooded town.

What do you imagine?

15 comments:

  1. The Mad Ventriloquist imagines Minori's apartment. It's gone now. They tore it down.

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  2. That you're the last of them that's breathing.

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  3. They never last, do they, mate.

    Why is it gone now?

    Tell me about it.

    Please.

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  4. After Minori was gone, the landlord decided that the building would be a much better McDonald's. The Mad Ventriloquist was the only one who didn't think so, and he wasn't in New York anymore. So they tore it down.

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  5. Yeah, what part of New York....

    We might be neighbors soon, dawg.

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  6. Well, it appears I'll be making a roadtrip tomorrow then.

    After I work in the community Garden. The Lettuce have been coming in lately.

    And Nick, that sounds awfully homicidal of you.

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  7. The Mad Ventriloquist has not been to New York for six years. But he wishes Iscariot well.

    And the lettuce is more important. All that's left there now is memories. And The Mad Ventriloquist thinks they might be best left behind.

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  8. Ridley, I presume?

    If you are in the city, one of the millions is me.

    I dare not tell any more.

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  9. I've always felt safest while traveling, preferably with someone I'm close to. The feeling of moving, the minimalistic lifestyle it requires, the lack of obligation...it's pretty zen, you know?

    If I ever wind up running, it'll sure be ironic.

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  10. Genuinely not trying to be an asshole, huh?

    If you genuinely are just that sarcastic/rude/however you've been behaving, I can respect that. I have nothing against anyone until they have something against me. And even then, I tend to give out a lot of second chances. Everyone deserves at least one, don't you think?

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  11. Ooh, where I felt safest. On a boat. My family used to own a little sailing dinghy, we'd sail it on a lake nearby. Whenever I was there, I felt like nothing could touch me. Just me, the wind in the sails and my fingers trailing along the water.

    Of course, they sold it when I was fourteen, shit happens I guess...

    ~Lucas

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  12. I imagine the days of old, when I didn't have to pretend to be a fool to bring my audience what they needed. So tired of acting to the tune of what I think is right. One day, I'd love to see that conscience of mine quiet for good.

    Of course, that'll never happen. I'll just keep doing what I do, and the same will be true for you.

    I think of the stars, and the times that I used to watch them until the sun rose on all I could see. It was so beautiful. I wish I could have that sunrise once more. Would you like to watch?

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