/lit/ - Literature

>>1972776
>>1972776

It grew dark around me as my shouts bounced ‘round the room, like the walls had clung to the shadows cast around the novice light projecting weakly from the table lamp; or, rather, the liberal attitude of my voice frightened me out of this interior heaven I build while thinking about her. My eyes swelled to the darkness as they dashed around the corners, some having large bushels of clothing that were obviously unkempt, left to rot as the room formed an oven during the warmer days. However, the clothes were misplaced all in too many places, some unnoticed areas of the space took the breath from me – unclear figures that I would try to make out all around me were mostly things of my creation.

>>1972777
>>1972777

On the immediate right to my seat at the desk was the wall, adorned with images of women from the world whom my mind struck to attach itself to. None of them were drawn under my own hand in their reality yet rather they were the flawed misconceptions of her; a large slam of the flaws, the particular fitting fetishes and perks to each that would slot and fit their way onto her in the midst of a heated session of my own sexual pleasure. As so, I did not keep away the women who instantly brought themselves up as I would masturbate instead choosing to occasionally migrate, with a malignant fear of the outside, to any nearby general store for their assortment of magazines. With scraps of dollars shredded away from my far-away family under false pretences, the women within the pages would be mere appendages to the angelic Frankenstein they would become on my wall. I never took to recall the faces of the men who held the counter on my trips beneath the midnight nor names of the magazines that so devilishly played up to my volatile desires – upon these weak movements into the outside world, that I knew somewhere she walked and breathed in, it was only the faces of any crossing woman with their bold expressions that held at my attention. For even me as just another shadow to walk under the night, the coldest of women could walk alongside me without the slightest notice of the sweating fat under the clothing of mine or the breathing that sped my heart to their proud pace. They were their own woman and with this attribute seeded in them causing my body to writhe in a constant state of mental ecstasy, I became like the cultist under them if they followed my path to the magazine place.

A bit too free-willed in the first sentence

>>1972779
>>1972779

Though I cannot say I’ve yet found a reason to visit this chance once more since previous visit. On that thought, I quivered up from the table with the dying light and lumbered my body over to the wall which, on every step, caught a clearer sight of the actual detail in all of their faces. An absolutely grotesque sight on first reminder of the view yet the craftsmanship of my own search for perfection among these women lowered down a halo of ignorant beauty onto each malformed woman. My clubbed fingers reached to caress the face of one but it awkwardly shifts in mid-air as my mind trembles at the thought of that blank slate of hers’ staring from just behind, watching my deviation from what was her truth in creation. I stopped the attempt of my hand while letting it fall to my side, however I wasn’t prepared to turn around and return to the desk-side of her eerie drawn image; my mind stuck to the wall of women, sprawled out all across with some wrinkled from previous stains of my own sexual releases and this made them look disgusting to me. It only saddened me to remember their initial reasoning yet there was always a yearn for more –

>>1972782
>>1972782

“Excuse me? I, uh, you’re missing a lot of magazines I was just wondering why you’re missing the lady magazines.” My eyes swelled as if tears were going to fall.

“Does it look like I know? I just work here, fuckin’ manager does the stocking choices. I mean shit, yeah, I do the stocking but like I’d honestly give a shit about hiding the magazines on purp”

“no no, where’s the manager?! I need these, please don’t I, I need these damn pictures okay! My body is, um, well..”

“The fuck are you talking about? They’re just magazines, dude, and get over it. Or you could make your way down the road; over to the Jefferson crosswalk they got a little rack near that one little brothel area or whatever. Hell, man, get yourself a damn prostitute or somethin’ while you”

“no! no, I don’t want those whores, those stupid whores! I just want to do something and you’re fucking ruining it and I can’t just go down there because they will see me! They’ll all fucking see me! They will see me and then how the hell will she love me, I need to see her and it needs to be per”

“What the fuck are you talking about?! Just get the hell out, man, get out! You’re just freaking me the hell out”

“no god, no, no, no” I screamed now, red in the face and truly afraid of what my body was going to do, “I can’t go back! Oh god, I don’t want to spend a night alone with my mind, I’m so happy of seeing her in my mind but I want her with me please help me! let me just find one here just”

>>1972785
>>1972785

His face was stern like that of a general with just the accessory now to fit the look – he held up a gun to me and began to mumble out vile curses. Even though I fully made my way back to the rack to fumble through the magazines again in some hopeless play for attention, the gun spoke enough in my heightened terror. My hands swiftly pulled away from the thumbing the covers and raised up in a sign of pathetic defence as my feet worked their way to the door nearby, and my tears were now clear. They were still locked away in the crest of my eyes yet he knew they were there from how his eyes looked – they wanted to cry too even with the gun, cry at what this man before him had become. And soon, I was out and the yelling ceased immediately on my sound of shoes pattering in on the street puddles from earlier evening rain. The night ahead await the loneliness of my being walking down empty avenues without her, and with that thought I recalled being happy in some sick manner. Remembering that before I went off into the night, across the entire city within my grasp of knowledge and to some unknown areas, knowing that I prayed to eventually see a woman lost and walking out in the dark with our shared heavy hearts – though we would never meet, just the knowledge of her existence added to my vision of her.

My mind fell back into the room where I still stood before the images on the wall, gawking in a mixed thought of their memory and attraction.
__________________________________

And that's all from me /lit/.

Thanks for all comments and your interest.

>>1972781
Also, it doesn't seem like you know what invoking means
The writing is too free, purple, whatever

>>1972790
>>1972790

I might be using it in a very loose term, I think. But I can see how it would be wrong.

Also, mind explaining "free?"

>“Excuse me? I, uh, you’re missing a lot of magazines I was just wondering why you’re missing the lady magazines.” My eyes swelled as if tears were going to fall.
>“no god, no, no, no” I screamed now, red in the face and truly afraid of what my body was going to do

i love this character.

>>1972785
is the narrator recalling the dialogue accurately here? the guy he is talking to doesn't seem very natural, but if he is just paraphrasing then it's quite alright

>>1972812
>>1972812

The main character doesn't exactly recall things naturally so he genitally just finds the clerk to be vile. It's why he keeps interrupting the clerk in the memory because it's not like what he said mattered, he never gave a good solution to the magazines not there.

He recalls him mentioning the brothel and mentioning the magazines down the road, but the "what the hell is wrong with you?" and the gun are really just the main character's own spin on practically his insanity regarding this. The clerk did pull a gun and it's a memory, but it's all from the wrong perspective and told with a heavy bias. For example, the clerk pulled a gun because he thought the main character was going to attack him.

>>1972833
alright, that's pretty much what i thought.

>This will be the last section of the first section I'll be posting

okay :(

>>1972882
>>1972882

Well, I'll bring it back when I get to part 2 and 3, but if you're really interested on following and perhaps just being a beta reader, I could just send regular updates via e-mail.

>>1972891
les do dis

sherlockholmesguy@gmail

>>1972938
>>1972938
>>1972938

Alright, cool.

last bump