Pillow Toes; Part II

He was often intrigued by the mundane. He scoffed at the ignorant masses, those content to live day by day as if their life would carry on forever, as if they could afford to waste their days.

He knew first hand the importance of danger, of thrill. How imperative it was that everyone see their mortality, see it with their own eyes. He wanted them to smell it, taste it, breathe the knowledge that they could die any second, and to live in denial of that was, in essence, the greatest show of stupidity.

He was ashamed to have been one of them in previous years.

With this philosophical knowledge he sought out his life. He looked for his life, for he knew he had to live it, and he knew it would consist of three things.

It would consist of fear. He had to be afraid. He had to be convinced he was about to lose something, for that’s all fear ever is. As humans we cherish the things we have, things we’ve worked hard to earn. Fear is the conviction that something we cherish is about to be taken away, whether it be a significant other, a possession, or even a sense of security. To be in fear of losing that which we think we appreciate shows us how to appreciate that which in reality we took for granted.

It would consist of pleasure. He had to feel. If he could not enjoy that which he was seeking, what was he doing? He was living in denial of his mortality, he was giving in to the ignorant masses who have never done anything in the name of pleasure, of happiness. Pleasure is fear’s counterpart. It makes the fear worth it, it gives us confirmation that the fear had meaning, it had consequence. He did not have long to find his life and when he did, pleasure would show him what it meant to live.

Lastly, it would consist of love. One once had called him a softie. He’d laughed, and replied, “No, I’m a true grouch. I’ve been living to hate. I’d like to love.” He had told them that part of his mind, and was disgusted by himself whenever he saw them. He’d never talked to them again. For the most part, he lived inside his mind. It was an input-only machinge, and he rarely exhibited any noticeable output. He had no sense of what it meant to depend on another person, on their moods, actions, decisions. He was stimulated by the thought of waking up and needing someone other than himself. The thought of love brought fear, and a desire for pleasure, and it was the third thing that would make up his life.

He was at a gas station in Utah when he realized a big part of who he was and who he would be. It was there that he first saw her.

Upon first glance, he dubbed her Pillow Toes.

Pillow Toes; Part II


Joined April 2009

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