A Quark of A Different Spin. (adameros) wrote,
A Quark of A Different Spin.

I thought I was witty. Really.

I thought it would be amusing to write a mordern parody of transendentalist works. Where the lead character would go to nature to find peace, but instead finds the the cruelity or survival that mirrors and rivals the horrors that take place in the city.

The character starts out naive and trusting of nature. And with his heart on his sleeve, comically stumbles into mishap after mishap (slapstick), slowly stripping him of everything.

Finally the character was to climb the mountain and meet the wise man. the wise man would inform him that "Kindness/love would give him all he needs." The "hero" then kicks the wise man in the nuts, and pushes him off the mountain, sit's down, and becomes the new "Wise Man", expounding, in his now very cynical and jaded way, that only the strong survive.

With the possibilty of an alternate ending, where a cute, beautiful, tiny butterfly some how cause him (or a rock above him) to lose it balance, ending in the meek surviving, and showing there is no security in strength.

I have restarted this 15 times. Hence the poor style. It's showing the jagged edges of being ripped apart and reassmebled many times. A still have not een able to make anything funny. each time I write it, it just comes out more and more bitter sounding.

I was hoping for a mix of Kurt Vonnegut and Dave Barry. All I got was sad schlock.

I went on a journey. No, not the band. But a voyage. I followed a foot path of many miles, starting in the lowland, culminating in summiting a peak of wisdom.This is the story of my journey, and what I learned.

It starts one humid summer night. I was unable to sleep and went for a walk. It was a big city, and there was always entertainment to be found. In the park, you can watch the muggings. Through the houses, you can look through the windwos and see fun of disfunctional families. If the allies, you can see Benji being cooked to feed the homeless. Never a dull moment it the city.

I couldn't help but wonder. What does this mean? How does society and the world function like this? Is there more to life than this? What is the meaning of life?

So, I left the city. I went out to experience the piecefulness of nature. To find inner peace and meaning.

I drove for hours and hours. The sun rose and I drove. It rained and I drove. The sun came out again, and I drove. Then, as the sun began to set, I saw a serene setting. A babbling brook, a clearing with a view of the mountains and the emerging stars. I began setting up my tent, when I learned I was not alone. It started innocently enough. I would notice a tickling, an occasional high pitched whine. I didn't think much of it until I started to itch, and my arms were black with mosquitos. After dousing myself with deet, I went into a restless sleep.

The next mornig, I awoke fresh. Itchy, but hopefully that I would find my zen state. My happy place. That mental position where I would feel safe, secure, and happy.

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