Letter to a Stranger
Jul. 29th, 2013 09:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
brian_campo in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
birthright_rpg”I’ve got magic hands.”
Wow. That looks like a pick-up line. Erase that.
“A lot of people have talents. Some talents include basketball and singing. Mine is magic.”
Great, now it’s a poorly written tenth grade term paper...
“I don’t know how to tell you this, so I’m just going to spit it out. A couple of weeks ago, I was an amateur keyboardist trying to cut a demo with a band I’m pretty sure is ripping off Killing Joke. My biggest concern was whether to pay my rent or buy an amp. Now I seem to be doing magic, only I’m not sure that’s the right word for what I’m doing.”
Better.
“You think I’m crazy. Maybe you’re wondering if you should call the police. Don’t worry. I’m not going to show up at your door. I just needed one person in this city to know what I’m going through and I can’t tell my buddies. That’s out of the question. So like I said, this started a couple of weeks ago. I was in traffic. I was late for a show and this Chevy was blocking the intersection. I started to get pissed. I hit my horn and I called him dick-breath (not my best moment). He didn’t move, so I wailed on my steering wheel. I was strung out and I felt like if he didn’t move that second my brain would explode. I remember this, I yelled, “MOVE!” and here’s the thing. The whole car moved. Not mine, his.
“I know what you’re thinking. This idiot was so high that he rear-ended somebody and thinks it was magic”
Reasonable assumption.
“Actually, that freaked me out so bad I stopped using for the week. Guess what? It keeps happening, and I don’t know why. I can only think of three possible reasons. 1) I’m breaking the laws of physics. The physical world doesn’t react me to the same way; 2) There’s a God with a weird sense of humor. He’s interpreting what I’m saying as prayers and granting them. But I think that means I’m a saint. I’m not comfortable with that; 3) I’m a warlock in Dungeons and Dragons.
I just admitted to watching Dungeons and Dragons. Somehow that’s worse than the rest of this fucked up letter.
“Here’s what I do know and it’s not much. I don’t seem to have any control over people, just things. Maybe that’s because people have their own will. But that’s a strike against the physics theory.
Every kid wishes they had special powers. The truth is, when it happens, it’s not fun. It’s scary. I can’t concentrate. When I do sleep, I have nightmares. I’ve got a weird stomach ache half the time. I keep forgetting shit. I don’t know what to do. What I needed to do was tell somebody and it’s you.
So whoever you are, thanks. Don’t call the cops.”
-B
Wow. That looks like a pick-up line. Erase that.
“A lot of people have talents. Some talents include basketball and singing. Mine is magic.”
Great, now it’s a poorly written tenth grade term paper...
“I don’t know how to tell you this, so I’m just going to spit it out. A couple of weeks ago, I was an amateur keyboardist trying to cut a demo with a band I’m pretty sure is ripping off Killing Joke. My biggest concern was whether to pay my rent or buy an amp. Now I seem to be doing magic, only I’m not sure that’s the right word for what I’m doing.”
Better.
“You think I’m crazy. Maybe you’re wondering if you should call the police. Don’t worry. I’m not going to show up at your door. I just needed one person in this city to know what I’m going through and I can’t tell my buddies. That’s out of the question. So like I said, this started a couple of weeks ago. I was in traffic. I was late for a show and this Chevy was blocking the intersection. I started to get pissed. I hit my horn and I called him dick-breath (not my best moment). He didn’t move, so I wailed on my steering wheel. I was strung out and I felt like if he didn’t move that second my brain would explode. I remember this, I yelled, “MOVE!” and here’s the thing. The whole car moved. Not mine, his.
“I know what you’re thinking. This idiot was so high that he rear-ended somebody and thinks it was magic”
Reasonable assumption.
“Actually, that freaked me out so bad I stopped using for the week. Guess what? It keeps happening, and I don’t know why. I can only think of three possible reasons. 1) I’m breaking the laws of physics. The physical world doesn’t react me to the same way; 2) There’s a God with a weird sense of humor. He’s interpreting what I’m saying as prayers and granting them. But I think that means I’m a saint. I’m not comfortable with that; 3) I’m a warlock in Dungeons and Dragons.
I just admitted to watching Dungeons and Dragons. Somehow that’s worse than the rest of this fucked up letter.
“Here’s what I do know and it’s not much. I don’t seem to have any control over people, just things. Maybe that’s because people have their own will. But that’s a strike against the physics theory.
Every kid wishes they had special powers. The truth is, when it happens, it’s not fun. It’s scary. I can’t concentrate. When I do sleep, I have nightmares. I’ve got a weird stomach ache half the time. I keep forgetting shit. I don’t know what to do. What I needed to do was tell somebody and it’s you.
So whoever you are, thanks. Don’t call the cops.”
-B