Sunday: Meta or The Most Interesting Thing to Happen So Far This Week
Someone has broken the fourth wall and told you that you're fictional!! How do you react?
I stand affixed and staring in disbelief at the stranger before me.
"Well that certainly expalins a lot," I answer in my typical snarky, everything has a punchline retort.
"So. What do we have here?" I then ask the stranger, rhetorical that. I am actually asking myself out loud because if he is wrong then this is my imagination so talking to myself in such a moment of break down hardly matters. However, if he is right then it would still remain moot. I am obviously supposed to talk to myself out loud and be snarky/sarcastic because that is how I'm "written".
"Let's start with the scene. We ar ein my house, a place where I would be found alone. If this is a mental breakdown then that would make sense as my mind would be trying to build some kind of barriers against the delusion and, therefore, prepare a plan of protection to safeguard my appearing sane to the public at large. However, the fault with this is that I clearly smell something hot and burning, something which seems to surround your entry into my world, such as it is. I never smell in my imaginings, plenty of my other senses have been touched when my all too dangerous imagination has been let out of its cage to roam free but that one sense has always eluded me. A complicated sense, smell, and not one easily replicated.
Your clothing, including the T-Shirt you are wearing with the Vermont Mountain Goats. Not a team in my world and I don't typically follow sports too closely, so that could easily be thrown in as a musing on my ego's part, especially being from Vermont. What is that? You wanted me to be more comfortable? I might suggest less sports jersey's with rediculous impossible to exist teams and more thurough, can't be out of my head, evidence.
So. What next? Well. You are male. Since I am fairly typical of my sex in that regard, it is very unlikely I'd throw a male into my imagination except as an abusive father figure. You are too clean and your eyes too concerned for that. Your eyes are fairly plain. If I were imagining you I would likely have given you some kind of very blue eyes or very green eyes like the daughter I have or the sone I wanted. This brings up another concern, if I'm not real then what about my daughter? The emotions associated with that particualr thought are not going to help me keep a handle on this situation at all so we'll shelve that.
Your sneakers are apphauling and I can't imagine my imagination would put up with them even during a break. The symbol is interesting but not one I can recognize or even associate with. Your watch is way too dull, your glasses very smudgy. I can focus on the lack of cleanliness in those lenses and that also lends itself to this not being my imagination. Too vivid, too much detail.
My conclusion is leaning towards the reality of the situation which then brings me to a problem. Usually, when someone is enlightened to their fictional existance they are about to be destroyed, their series discontinued, or something else equally awful.
So what are you here for, exactly? Please don't make me want to kill you and push me to the point of seeing if that's possible."
Tags: prompts, sunday
"Well that certainly expalins a lot," I answer in my typical snarky, everything has a punchline retort.
"So. What do we have here?" I then ask the stranger, rhetorical that. I am actually asking myself out loud because if he is wrong then this is my imagination so talking to myself in such a moment of break down hardly matters. However, if he is right then it would still remain moot. I am obviously supposed to talk to myself out loud and be snarky/sarcastic because that is how I'm "written".
"Let's start with the scene. We ar ein my house, a place where I would be found alone. If this is a mental breakdown then that would make sense as my mind would be trying to build some kind of barriers against the delusion and, therefore, prepare a plan of protection to safeguard my appearing sane to the public at large. However, the fault with this is that I clearly smell something hot and burning, something which seems to surround your entry into my world, such as it is. I never smell in my imaginings, plenty of my other senses have been touched when my all too dangerous imagination has been let out of its cage to roam free but that one sense has always eluded me. A complicated sense, smell, and not one easily replicated.
Your clothing, including the T-Shirt you are wearing with the Vermont Mountain Goats. Not a team in my world and I don't typically follow sports too closely, so that could easily be thrown in as a musing on my ego's part, especially being from Vermont. What is that? You wanted me to be more comfortable? I might suggest less sports jersey's with rediculous impossible to exist teams and more thurough, can't be out of my head, evidence.
So. What next? Well. You are male. Since I am fairly typical of my sex in that regard, it is very unlikely I'd throw a male into my imagination except as an abusive father figure. You are too clean and your eyes too concerned for that. Your eyes are fairly plain. If I were imagining you I would likely have given you some kind of very blue eyes or very green eyes like the daughter I have or the sone I wanted. This brings up another concern, if I'm not real then what about my daughter? The emotions associated with that particualr thought are not going to help me keep a handle on this situation at all so we'll shelve that.
Your sneakers are apphauling and I can't imagine my imagination would put up with them even during a break. The symbol is interesting but not one I can recognize or even associate with. Your watch is way too dull, your glasses very smudgy. I can focus on the lack of cleanliness in those lenses and that also lends itself to this not being my imagination. Too vivid, too much detail.
My conclusion is leaning towards the reality of the situation which then brings me to a problem. Usually, when someone is enlightened to their fictional existance they are about to be destroyed, their series discontinued, or something else equally awful.
So what are you here for, exactly? Please don't make me want to kill you and push me to the point of seeing if that's possible."
Tags: prompts, sunday