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y0lk-112
--(y0lk)----------------------------------------------------------------------
y0lk #112: "which way?" by the feared and mighty kreid
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Greetings, readers! I hate you! Motherfuckers!
hello. this textual voice you are hearing is not an illusion. it is
the actual presence of your great friend and mentor, creed.
did you miss me?
--(hmm, well, yeah, i guess. who is this again?)----------------------------
well, funny that you should mention that, nonexistent antistrophe.
this is creed, indeed (heehee!). but now i go by "kreid" because some guy on
IRC and some christian alternarock band stole my nickname. so from now on...
that's me. kreid. this new identity of mine should serve to represent the
spirit of this Y0LK REVIVAL that i am launching.
--(i've heard that bullshit before)------------------------------------------
yes, yes, I know. "but this one is for real." or maybe not. either
way, there are some new issues out. and i should mention that right now i
have no side projects, really, and my girlfriend dumped me 3 nights ago, so
now is prime time for me to be serving up some y0lk issues.
by the way, she still loves me, honestly, scout's honor. i fucking
swear she does. WHY DOES NOBODY LISTEN TO ME ANYMORE OH MY GOD MY LIFE IS
FALLING APART JESUS NO NO NO NO NO
oh, never mind. this issue contains a story that i wrote a long
fucking time ago but it never got published, so HERE. fucking ENJOY it, but
don't try to UNDERSTAND it, because you NEVER WILL!
--(OH FUCK I SPILLED MY COFFEE ALL OVER MY FUCKING LAP HOLY SHIT OW OW OW!)--
I DON'T CARE! on with the issue.
--(end: emotional pandemonium begin: pretentious fictional mess)-------------
"which way?"
"et in arcadia ego," he calmly replied.
"you're really impossible to have a conversation with, paul. are
you aware of that?" jason sighed and put his head down in his hands to
rest.
paul leaned back on the blue park bench. there was a long
silence again, until jason decided to speak again.
"you know that doesn't mean shit. you just say that to sound like
an enigma. this is all just complete bullshit coming out of you, and
you won't talk to me anymore because you know that i know that now. you
have no intent of meaning in anything you say, do you?"
paul couldn't reply again, until jason pushed harder on his
question by adding another "DO YOU?" to emphasize his feeling.
without moving, still in his reclined position, barely even
opening his mouth, paul replied.
"i suppose that is one possibility." he paused briefly again, as
if to close the topic of conversation, and sat up a bit as if to open a
new one. thoughtfully, but effortlessly, he asked, "how did people ever
get to having these conversations, anyway? isn't this just a little
confusing to you?"
"well, i dunno. i guess it's just our natural inclination to pair
up and communicate. it all just depends on where you are, where you're
going, and the people you choose to pair up with." jason thought that
sounded pretty logical. he realized after saying it, however, that it
might have sounded like a come-on, so he added at the end, "no, that's
just stupid. nevermind."
paul had a hard time responding to this. after another short
silence, which he knew jason felt uncomfortable in, he stood up.
"what? are you leaving?"
paul shook his head and replied, following his impulse: "no, uh.
let's go this way." he pointed to the dark and vacant road leading east.
they started walking east. jason took a look behind him and
thought he saw a boy levitating down the street, but did not say anything
about it.
they were now walking east. after about 20 feet, when the end of
the road came within their sight, they saw a thin, bald man in a monk's
robe, sitting in a lawnchair in the middle of the 3-way intersection in
front of them. he was staring straight at them.
the boys slowly approached. when they got to the monk, he asked
them, "what are you kids doing?"
paul replied blandly, "we are walking east." to emphasize this,
he stretched out his long arm and pointed his finger over the monk's head.
the monk stuck his lip out a little and looked up, so as to stare at
paul's outstretched finger.
"oh."
they just stood there for a long while. jason couldn't stand the
silence, and eventually he just sighed loudly and spoke, aggravated, and
full of emotion. "sir, i just don't get it? where are we going tonight?
where are we ever going? i can't even talk to people anymore, it's
impossible! i just don't know what to do. i really need help here...
you're supposed to be someone who guides people... just what do you think
i should do? where am i supposed to go in this life?"
the monk pondered this for a few seconds. he could see
jason was in a real life dilemma, and he really wanted to help. "well,"
he said after making his decision, "i think you should go that way." he
stretched his right arm out beside him without turning his head and
pointed north.
jason let out a small, confused, and somewhat determined sigh.
"okay. i guess i'm going north then." he shoved his hands into his
pockets and strode off to the north.
jason was walking north now. paul continued to walk east, off the
road and into the forest behind the intersection.
jason, now walking north due to the monk's guidance, walked about
100 yards before reaching the thin road's end, followed by a wide stream
and a deep wooded area. but jason, now determined and confident with the
monk's strength inside of him, decided he would keep going north. he got
himself a running start and lept over the stream, making it by about a
foot or so. unfortunately, he had a great deal of momentum which he was
unable to cut immediately after reaching the other side of the stream. it
was at this time that he noticed the thick coils of barbed wire that were
placed about five feet from the northern side of the stream. he let out a
childlike shriek and then toppled into the thick, sharp patch of steel
barbed wire. he stayed there all night and, after a long period of low
moaning, he bled to death.
paul, however, was walking easy. he walked a long way through
the very large forest behind the intersection, about two miles actually,
until he reached a fence, about twenty feet high, surrounding what seemed
to be a reservoir. there was no barbed wire at the top, although it was a
little sharp - that did not stop paul, of course. he climbed... quite
skillfully, on the wall and reached the top after about two minutes.
after a short rest and a mental pat on the back, paul swung his left leg
over the top, then his right, with the intent of descending the wall.
unfortunately, his right pant leg caught on one of the spikes at the top
of the fence, and he lost his grip, first with his left foot, then with
both hands. at this point, his long body was thrown from the fence, down
twenty feet, and face-first directly onto a sharp rock on the ground
below. fortunately for paul, he did not bleed to death like his former
companion. the sharp rock went right through his eye and pierced his
brain. he died almost instantly.
both of their final thoughts included the monk in the lawnchair
that had set them on this journey. they both knew, somehow, that he was
fully aware of the perils that would lead them to certain death. what
they were not sure of at that final moment was whether or not the monk
actually existed.
--(that's it)----------------------------------------------------------------
bye!
