Stingy Ocean Hemingway
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Ocean Hemingway was thinking about Luke Sparrow again. Luke was a selfish lawyer with wobbly legs and skinny fingers.
Ocean walked over to the window and reflected on her grand surroundings. The high-rise buildings in front of her seemed to stretch so far into the distance that they looked like rows upon rows of teeth gleaming white from the edge of an open mouth.
As she stared at them, they began to spin like stars through a night sky. She closed her eyes tightly for just a moment…and then it all disappeared and she found herself lying face down on wet concrete.
Ocean had been tripping heavily lately; falling asleep in strange places while sleeping pills coursed through her veins—which wasn’t actually possible if you didn’t know what sleeping pills did and how they worked… which most people didn’t, but then most people don’t need to, do they?
Of course not! Most people are content in their daily existence. They have homes with real estate agents who take care of everything else because, let’s be honest here folks, we’re too busy being entertained by things that are scripted and filmed after careful thought behind the scenes where dozens of writers labor every waking hour so we can be told how to think and feel.
Not one person has ever changed the world without being handed some good old-fashioned cash first, am I right?! Well maybe we should go out and change it ourselves; fuck this system, eh?
Whoa there now… slow down a bit. Relax those shoulders! You got it all wrong—I’m talking about our very own government here, you bigoted asshole. We get what we deserve; don’t forget your place. All aboard the propaganda train! What kind of coward are you if you’re going to complain when someone starts telling you exactly what you want to hear… by sticking needles in your head to keep you quiet? It doesn’t matter because your mind is already fucking shit up.
Ever wondered why America has so many mental health problems? A lot of it could probably be chalked down to the fact that everyone takes pills! That might explain why she’d fallen over the edge recently in spectacular fashion; looking out onto a rain-slick world where no one lived within shouting distance apart from a small pack of feral cats that wouldn’t look her way unless she was covered in blood or something worth eating.
Ocean pulled off her T-shirt and threw it on the floor next to her sneakers, which weren’t even hers but rather rented at the local shelter. With them resting at either side of her face, Ocean slowly drew back each finger one by one until she felt only a thin film of water covering her skin.
Her hair was the color of wet clay and it crackled under her touch as she ran both hands through its thick length. Pristine and brittle, ocean moss… did we give her that name?
Why would anyone call such a thing anything other than a beautiful part of nature? How many more names must we attach to life before it finally becomes plain enough to see that all things are truly equal? If you agree with my beliefs you can pat yourself on the back and say, “Ain’t I clever!” But if you happen to disagree, well then, enjoy your little view of reality: this universe is going nowhere. Death does not exist. What happens after we die is unimportant.
It simply does not matter any longer and these words of mine will vanish forever because it ain’t important anyway, is it? Then again, isn’t it interesting how people still waste their lives making movies and writing books and painting pictures…?
Even when their loved ones are crying inside their heads and hearts, yearning to escape the confines of time itself. Or perhaps your fear keeps you trapped… afraid of falling free into an untethered cosmos of energy and light; the true meaning of love and hope and eternity?
No wonder Earth had turned it around on itself, killed millions with its poisonous fruits and vines, filled the seas with plastic, and swiped the future from every child before sending them away with a heavy heart and hollow promises. No surprise it had spent thousands of years trying to kill itself off.
Still, humanity left us pretty screwed, eh? Gotta hand it to evolution though: despite the scars left by past generations, it had done an amazing job keeping our species alive all this time. So much so that I’d guess there aren’t many creatures across this great planet that still retain their ability to dream, regardless of how badly society mangles the concept of individuality.
Dreaming has always been the enemy… until the day we found fire.
Now maybe some might argue that our dreams have come to define who we are; but why would we ever need them? In their purest form, they only stand between us and complete truth: yet this idea brings to mind a world wherein everyone remains blind and deaf except for a select few who, instead of dreaming, open their mouths and make strange noises at strangers walking by, demanding everyone’s attention with incoherent rants about the power they hold deep beneath the earth while simultaneously planning to wipe the slate clean tomorrow morning and start all over. Talk about insanity! Give me a break; clearly, our survival instincts haven’t evolved far enough.
They’re like teenage girls hanging on to crushes that won’t return their texts; you know deep down they’ll end up nothing more than bitter reminders that you’re alone. All we really require is a change of mindset… the right tools to shift perception.
And yeah, just imagine how strange it would’ve been during the industrial revolution if we hadn’t made electricity… the Industrial Revolution! Imagine how much easier life would be today without all this artificial manipulation. Those fuckers already had electricity when I was young…
Ocean shook her head in a daze; there wasn’t anyone else in sight, as the homeless were having a nice nap near the building entrance or just out cold on the pavement outside. She flicked her gaze towards a nearby alleyway.
The smog settled heavily upon the city skyline and washed across the surrounding structures, giving them a blackened hue in stark contrast against the burning orange sunset, which, incidentally, was completely missing its reflection in the lake thanks to a cluster of trees floating over it.
Nothing lasts forever, no matter how hard humans try. Their desire for control causes unnecessary strife and leaves a stain on everything they touch.
So now the question stands, how much longer do we get before those same animals attempt to replace their lack of basic awareness with the aid of machines?
Maybe a hundred years will pass first before the West finally realizes it doesn’t actually need China… or perhaps nobody knows any better and humanity will fall apart altogether; once again creating a void into which lies someone new to fill.
Without the need to fight amongst themselves anymore we shall surely see a brand-new order take shape within a span of mere weeks or months, at most; and we will soon find ourselves living in an age where humans can begin rebuilding in earnest without waiting another thousand years.
We can create an entire empire from scratch using technology given to us by aliens! Humanity could move forward even faster than a species capable of cloning itself… but who would trust others knowing that so many people share one common thought:
“Don’t think, don’t dream.” If what we’re seeing is a glimpse at human history through the eyes of humanity then… damn, man! How depressing can it really get?! Humans seem almost destined to stagnate no matter how much time passes.
We destroy natural habitats, pollute our environment, and squash each other underfoot — and this is considered progress? I hope things change at some point, even though in reality I doubt it ever will. What are my odds here anyway? 0.0000000000000000001 percent or something close to it…
“I’m so tired…”
Ocean didn’t feel any signs of pain anywhere on her body, except perhaps the twinge she felt running up her neck when considering the state of humanity in general. Her vision began to blur and she yawned before falling asleep within seconds.
There were no alarms ringing in her ears and there weren’t any voices around telling her to wake up — not that she wanted to be woken back up either. For the moment, at least, the fear and panic seeped out of her very pores.
At that exact instant, she decided to let go. It didn’t take long for her limbs to lose all strength and the dark haze in front of her eyes to lighten and reveal an older woman staring straight ahead at her, unmoving. Ocean looked behind her — nothing but an empty street.
And since she had awoken naturally on her own accord, she somehow knew that her heart wasn’t beating too fast while breathing normally. Everything came as a welcome surprise after being unwell for nearly three days.
She lifted her hand to her face, finding it scratched up. No wonder her throat hurt so bad. From the amount of blood he left on me I’d say there’s gonna be a nasty bruise forming there real soon. Probably best I stay indoors for a while.
Though in hindsight I probably should’ve stayed put in my apartment instead. That dude must’ve known exactly where to find me. Most likely he figured the money would keep coming his way until I got sick of trying to kill him and handed the lot over to him, figuring I wouldn’t leave the country again unless forced out. Damn it — this has been a nightmare.
The next few days may decide if I live a rich lifestyle, or end up broke, working for someone who will use me for whatever means necessary. Ugh… What a shame… At the rate, things have gone lately… It’ll never work between us, right? I still haven’t forgiven myself for hitting you… This whole thing went outta hand because of something I did. Man am I sorry for putting your family through this, Danny…