Environmental Storytelling
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@virginia-kamasqa
Environmental Storytelling
My three chud sons I’ve birthed with my girl wife. They are racked with guilt and slime.
“Everyday I marvel more and more at the sheer stupidity of the population.”
“It’s so frustrating.”
“Wow. What a novel idea.”
“Fuck you, you know what I mean.”
“Yeah I know what you mean, and it’s an age-old pretense.”
“So what?”
“So you’re not the first to have this idea.”
“... So what?”
“Idk. I guess you’re right.”
“Like, the other day, I overheard some people use the word googol as if they had just learned it. Like how the fuck have you made it so far in life and don’t know what a googol is?”
“Why would anyone ever need to know what a googol is?”
“Never, but, like, are you not a curious person? Maybe that’s what I’m angry at rather than ignorance; a lack of curiosity.”
“Why do people need to be curious?”
“Wel-”
“Do people need to be curious in order for you to respect them as people?”
“No, abso-”
“What if I’m not a curious person? Would you still respect me?”
“Yes, obviously, but that’s because I know you.”
“And you don’t know the other people.”
“How do you know they don’t have a similar story to me?”
“I don’t but… I don’t know dude, I was just trying to complain.”
“Your complaining reveals a lot about what you think about other people.”
“...”
“Sorry.”
“It’s ok. I’m not mad.”
“...”
“Do you still love me?”
“Yes.”
“But it’s a little different now.”
Ice begins to cry. Fire hugs her. Ice begins sobbing. Racking, heaving, desperate pleas for help. Fire stays silent.
Fire and Ice are laying in the grass, gazing at the stars.
“I feel like my life is just filler.”
“Like… like an anime?”
“Yeah, actually. Like an anime. I think I view a lot of my life through the lens of television because that’s essentially been my entire life.”
“I feel like my entire life as of late has been filler episode after filler episode after filler episode. The plot hasn’t advanced in like 5 years. And like, there are really good filler episodes. You can remove it from the series and it would have no effect, but they’re still some of my favorite episodes. But that doesn’t change the fact that they’re filler. There’s no substance. Nothing is fucking happening.”
“... I think that’s just a mindset thing. Like I think you just need to change your outlook. Cause there isn’t a storyline to life it just meanders around and then ends suddenly. So why not make those little moments as enjoyable as possible?”
“No, I’m enjoying the moments, it just feels like… I don’t know how to describe it. I enjoy the moments very thoroughly but they just… don’t matter. Nothing I do matters.”
“Well nothing matters at all, but that’s why our lives and actions are so important.”
“Is that all I am? My actions? What counts as an action? Most of my life so far has been spent thinking thoughts and if all that matters is my actions then I’ve spent most of my life doing something totally inconsequential.”
“Again, I think it’s a mindset thing. We already know that nothing matters, so the good feelings come from creating meaning. You can’t be like ‘Nothing matters, and therefore these thoughts and things matter even less’ that makes no sense. You gotta make the small things have meaning, and then you can start working on finding happiness.”
“Jesus, you sound like my dad.”
“Maybe your dad is wiser than you think.”
“No, I know he’s very wise. It’s just that usually his brand of wisdom falls flat on my weird brain.”
“...”
“Well I still think you gotta futz with your attitude towards the world. Shit’s wack right now.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“...”
“Do you ever worry that these deep philosophical conversations we have are in reality really immature?”
“All the time.”
“I worry that no actual adult thinks these things. Or even worse, that an adult would think these conversations were sophomoric.”
“Same.”
“...”
“I also worry that one day a story beat is going to occur and I’m gonna miss it because I thought it was just a particularly good filler episode.”
“What if a super important plot beat already happened and I just thought it was a beach episode?”
“What if these plot points are happening to me all the time and I never notice them at all?”
“How do I make episodes distinct?”
“How do I live my life?”
“Have I been living my life wrong?”
“...”
“You should talk to your therapist about this. I’m afraid I’m going to give you bad advice.”
Fire and Ice stare into the abyss together. They blink at the same time.
Fire and Ice are walking to school.
“I exist in such a mass state of imposter syndrome and confusion at all times. My seemingly only escape from it is completely neglecting myself and instead focusing on others and other things, thus causing me to care more about media and my what little friends I haves live’s more than myself.”
“...”
“I don’t know what to say to that.”
“You’re not really supposed to say anything.”
“I’m just kinda talking to the air.”
“Is that all I am to you? Air?”
“Fuck you dude, you know you’re the most important person in my life.”
“Oh…”
“Thanks.”
“Nothing really to thank me for. It’s just a fact.”
“...”
“Do—…”
“What do you mean though?”
“What do you mean what do I mean?”
“Well, two things. One, what do you mean with the imposter syndrome thing and two, what does ‘most important person’ mean to you?”
“For the imposter syndrome thing it’s like… I think I’m a fraud in absolutely everything I do. In creative pursuits, in academics, in my own family. I just feel like I shouldn’t be where I am. Everyone else has everything figured out.”
“You know everyone else has the same amount of confusion as you do, you j—”
“Not to this extent.”
“Not to this level.”
“I truly have no idea how I’ve gotten as far as I have.”
“Neither does anyone else dude! The only people who know what they’re doing are the experts, that’s why they’re experts, and you are not surrounded by experts.”
“...”
“What’d the other thing mean?”
“Oh… uhh… I don’t know. You’re the most important person in my life. There’s nothing else to it.”
“In a good or a bad way?”
“Neither.”
Fire purses her lips. It is unclear what emotion she is experiencing, both to Ice and herself.
Fire and Ice are in the backseat of a car.
“Would you ever kill yourself?”
“...”
“No?”
“But I think if I was in a situation where I was about to die I wouldn’t go out of my way to save myself.”
“That makes sense.”
“I think I’d kill myself.”
“Why?”
“Why do you think you would, not why would you kill yourself.”
“Cause… Like… I think if I had the right method I would do it, I just don’t know if that method exists without using a gun. I want something quick and painless and irreversible, but with none of the “falling contemplation” of throwing yourself off a building or something.”
“Yeah, I get that. I’d probably slit my throat if I had to.”
“That seems painful.”
“Yeah but it’s irreversible. Can’t really take it back. Or at least I wouldn’t.”
“Do you have a plan to kill yourself?”
“Kinda? Not really. It’s more like a contingency… I guess plan.’”
“It’s kinda like yours. I think I’m just kinda waiting for the right moment. I can feel it on the horizon. The moment where I’m just gonna realize ‘I’m done’ and I’ll go to a patch of blue flowers that I found once behind my house and I’d slit my throat.”
“That sounds nice.”
“Would you leave a note?”
“Absolutely.”
“Have you already written it?”
“Absolutely.”
“Mmm”
They hold hands.
Fire and Ice are having a serious conversation while walking home.
“Yo, can I talk to you about something that’s been bothering me?”
“Sure.”
“It’s about you.”
“Oh.”
“Sure.”
“I think I hate you.”
“What?
“I’m angry at you all the time and I think it’ll go away eventually, but it never does. I stay angry at you. And whenever I reflect on that anger, because I don’t want to be angry at you, I find myself in the right.”
“You’re kinda selfish. And not always a very good friend.”
“I was okay with that for a really long time but… I don’t know— it’s not like I’ve reached a breaking point, it's just like… become so evident that I can’t ignore it anymore.”
“...”
“Yeah. I understand.”
“I said that I was evil.”
“Yeah but usually people don’t actually fuckin mean that dude. It’s just hyperbole for the sake of spicing up mundane conversation, not a promise of moral constitution.”
“Yeah.”
“I know.”
“...”
“I don’t know if I have the capacity to change.”
“I don’t know either. I’m not you and the more time I spend with you the less I feel I know you.”
“But if you can’t change… I don’t think I wanna be friends.”
“Yeah. I understand.”
Ice tentatively extends her pinky towards Fire’s hand. Fire takes Ice’s hand in hers. They continue walking. Total silence.
Fire and Ice are going through their lockers together.
“Do you ever think about whether or not people actually love us?”
“All the time. Why?”
“Well I know you think about it all the time, but like… I don’t know. Do you ever really think about it?”
“All the time. Why?”
“I don’t think you do. I think you think you think about it, but you never really process the full picture. What if everyone is lying to us? What if we’re the most annoying people in the world? I mean that hyperbolicly but, I also kinda don’t.”
“I think you’re too caught up in your own ass. You’re too pretentious for your own good. I know that’s rich coming from me, but I mean it. You think there’s a bigger picture to everything but in reality sometimes it's just not that deep.”
Ice’s passionate hate pierces through her cold disposition.
“How dare you. We both despise that phrase, you even more than me.”
“I know. That doesn’t mean it’s not true. Sometimes it just isn’t necessary to think about the implicit implications of every single detail of a thought or a piece of art.”
“Fuck you.”
“Fuck you.”
“I can’t think of anything else to say.”
“Fuck you.”
“I know.”
Ice shoves her finger into Fire’s chest.
“That, that right there, is why no one fucking loves you.”
Ice storms off.
Fire and Ice are sitting on the roof of Ice’s house. They are shoulder to shoulder, sharing the same air, breathing the same sharp breaths. They overlook the horizon together. Not looking at anything in particular.
“Barry was right, you know.”
“Yeah— I know.”
“I think… I think I just didn’t want to admit that I could stoop as low as cliche.”
“I don’t think you’re stooping low at all. Cliches aren’t inherently bad.”
“I know they aren’t. But… I just don’t think I’m ready to accept that. I think I need more time- let the cake bake, you know?”
“I’m surprised to hear you say that.”
“It’s very mature for your age.”
“Fuck you.”
“I know, I know, I’m sorry. But like I said, cliches aren’t inherently bad.”
“And like I said, I know.”
“That doesn’t mean I have to like exhibiting them.”
“No it doesn’t, but it’s frightening to me that you feel so uncomfortable in being described as ‘cliche.’ I can see why you do, disney channel indoctrination and all that, but… it’s still scary. I care about you and I don’t want to see you hurt yourself.”
“...”
“Wow. It felt very weird to hear you say that. Which I guess would be scary to you too.”
“Indeed it is.”
“...”
“I wish you could love me more easily.”
“Because I know you do. I know it’s just hard for you to admit that.”
“...”
“Can I rest my head on your shoulder?”
“... yeah”
Seconds feel like eons. Minutes feel too short. A decade passes. Nothing changes. Least of all them.
I think dc should remake Superman but the only change is that instead of a properly intricate and organized list of alphabetized moves to fight Superman, it’s just fgc numpad notation
I love getting so in depth, so low level into a piece of technology that you get to see the bullshit naming conventions the creators thought were funny and/or cool. Like why the fuck does my storage system need a “watchdog” and why does it need to be “fed” and “tickled.”
The t in t-girl stands for Atari. If you input the Konami code on her dick she’ll escape the cycle of samsara.
> ascend
I don’t view myself as an artist. Even as I say this I don’t think I’ve ever made a piece of art. And yet I continue to posit that “anything is art” and other platitudes like it that would surely qualify my writing as some form of art and yet I can’t bring myself to do it.
I think I view artists as a higher class of human and I can’t bring myself to elevate mein self to that height. But also artists suck. And are just people. And I kinda hate them. I hate having a not yet fully developed brain, also, which is probably the root of much of my problems, but that’s beside the point. Art is so weird. I love it and hate myself. Kinda.
It keeps happening