a_new_story Teenage Jesus Add a line at your leisure. Mot walked down the stairs and out into the street with his cello and a backpack. 011004 ... DannyH The humidity outside was a perfect match for the torpor in his mind. "Why am I doing this to myself again?" he thought. 011004 ... unhinged the people near him always stared confounded because no matter the bustle he always moved at his own distinctly slower pace. 011004 ... silentbob his eyesight graced the ground like a bird stalking prey. what was he going to do with all the garbage in his head and heart? He couldn't sort it all out in his head. all the things they said to him... all the lies they told. Why would they do this to him. They just used him to get to each other. 011004 ... Teenage Jesus Still, he had to play tonight, and play well. "They're all going to be there" he thought. 011004 ... Skalar "She's going to be there. I might as well give it my best shot." It wasn't so much the pressure that bothered him, but the crowd. The eyes that locked onto him. Her eyes. There was something about her that he couldn't quite explain. It was as if there was a dark menacing shadow that embraced him when she stared. 011004 ... birdmad he paused for a moment and had a cigarette, watching the smoke rise in delicate tendrils through the crowded skyline, hoping it would settle his nerves. it didn't. apprehensively, he started walking again 011004 ... Teenage Jesus Thirty minutes later he was there. He could see some of the members of the orchestra getting out of their cars and heading into the performance hall. Aprehension began it's usual transformation to fear. Victor Herbert's Cello Concerto #2 in Eminor was the last thing on his mind. All he could think about was her; and her stare. He fought to keep her name from forming in his mind, but he couldn't stop himself...from...naming her. 011005 ... Teenage Jesus Unable to control himself, he screamed her name at the top of his lungs... 011005 ... silentbob dispite his antics no one noticed. no one cared, no one saw through this thick black-tuxedoed facaade. no one shared in his misery. he entered and went back stage. he drank water because he thought it might help him get a handle on what needed to be focused on. it didn't. He made his way to the stage and peeked through the curtain just to see who was out there. she was there. sitting next to him. everything inside him shutdown. 011005 ... DannyH How did she do it? The whole two week run had sold out weeks before the first performance. How could she be here to torment him every night? 011005 ... DannyH despite the fever in his heart, the professional inside soothed him with a cool clear voice. "Its the last night. Its too important to fail. just step out there. I'll do the rest. I'll take over, just like I always do. Put her out of your mind. Do your exercises. Focus. One more performance, just one more, then its all over." 011005 ... silentbob Mot often relied on this voice to help him through his most trying moments. when he found out that she had lied and that HE had lied adn that they were together, his first instinct was to kill. but the voice took over and told him, "Mot, look, kid, you've got the weight of the world on your shoulders, you can't shrug it off, ok? You have to stay strong. Just don't worry, and i'll handle everything." and Mot didn't kill either of them. They still didn't know that he knew... 011005 ... Teenage Jesus The conductor made his way on stage to thunderous applause. Mot stood in the wings and waited for the noise to subside. That's it. He was on. He carried his cello to his chair in the center of the stage. The crown exploded with applause. "Lynn Harrell indeed" he thought to himself. He knew he was better than him. The audience knew as well. And there she was. His eyes locked with hers, and for a moment he froze. 011005 ... mister mourning his mid drifted as he stared and he nearly missed his cue, but, being the consummate professional, he picked up just in time and as he began to play, he was able to shake the trepidation at least until the next cresccendo 011005 ... DannyH Suddenly, he was playing the cello in front of an audience. "It's Ok." Said the voice, "I thought I'd bring you along for this one." Mot looked down at his hands. They were playing the cello like a professional. "Watch this." said the voice, "Look at her. Feel me." He looked out into the audience. - Is this what it's like? - "Yes. Look at her." She was in the front row. Her eyes were in the front row. "Look at her. Feel me." Mot looked deep into her eyes, beginning to understand. His soul slid down into unfamiliar fingers. And he played. 011005 ... farmfish the song was not the one he had spent hours rehearsing. it was her song, he could tell by the blushing, the heavy breathing, the slow way she closed her eyes and drifted away into the memory of the two of them. and when he closed his eyes, he could see inside her longing, for he was there where they once knew love could erase time. 011005 ... silentbob her new lover was shocked at what was happening to his daisy next to him. Why was this happening? She had told him he was over Mot, that she never liked him. Why was this happening now? How was Mot controlling her this way? He decided to put an end to it. He stood up and began to scream 011006 ... distorted tendencies He screamed at the top of his voice, the entire concert was stopped and turned into a theatrical melodrama. He wasn't screaming at her, he was screaming at the ever so calm Mot. Mot stood, dropping his cello. He placed on hand on the silken hair of her and the other gripped the waist of her new screaming lover, whom had stopped screaming. Mot stared him in the eye passionately as he gripped his waist, and ran his fingers through her hair. "There is no need to scream..", he whispered calmly. 011006 ... Casey Mot's lover felt as if she was drowning in a flood of passion and lust. It was as if everyone else in the room has suddenly faded away. It was just Mot and her. Like an automatic reflex Mot's hazel eyes closed as gently as a feather floating to the ground. The brains and hearts of both members of the couple were filled with conflicting emotions. The moment of truth was now upon them. 011006 ... god mot suddenly felt the familiar and unwelcome spasm of diarrhea deep within his bowels. 011006 ... unhinged the dream... his eyes focused back on the bustling street. the end of his concert career kept flashing before him but this time he kept walking, kept the crowd in front of him in his mind's eye. hard to think that he was walking to his usual corner on elm and houston. hard to think he was going to spend the rest of the day pouring out his soul on a street corner for some asshole's spare change. he had begun to draw a crowd of bums. the old black one with the white beard always asked him to play the 'fall morning song' which was really the prelude from the first sonata by bach. mot found it kind of funny that even the bums liked bach. and then it came up in front of him...the stone bench on the corner of elm and houston that was made to play the cello on. the old black bum waved good morning and mot sat down and took the cello out of the case and began to tune it. 011007 ... god the sun shone down bright, as it did on everyone, rich or poor. nothing else mattered but the music, the moment in time. he stared out into infinity and began to play. 011007 ... Teenage Jesus "Halt simulation." Mot exited the chamber to resume his duties in engineering. 011007 ... distorted tendencies His duties seemed no different then the simulation. He could relate to it in almost every aspect. "What am I becoming?", Mot thought to himself as he passed the automated sliding doors. A familiar face greeted him out in the glass hall with the bright blue tiled flooring. 011007 ... silentbob "Tim you old dog! How the hell ya doin?" "pretty good mot. except my lover left me for another. what do i do?" "Well, you could play her an intensely riveting cello piece, but i imagine you might just have a weird dream instead." "Mot, you old bastard, why are you so vague?" "Dont ask me... ask_god ! " 011008 ... Teenage Jesus Tim left disgruntled. Mot began talking to himself, again. "Either I always tell the truth or I'm always lyin'...just lyin'! Damn I'm thirsty..." 011009 ... distorted tendencies At the mention of himself being thirsty Mot was hit by a dizzy spell. He shook his head for a moment and proceeded to walk down the hall to get a drink from the glass water fountain. Before he got there he passed out, his body hit the floor with a soft thud. 011009 ... silentbob "Mot...." a voice said. "Mot dreamer........let's dream." it was a soft voice, but when with which he was unfamiliar. He was in dressed all in white, even his eye glasses frames were white. an angel appeared before him. she had *her* face. "i realize now you did it all for me... but i need your help now... i'm in a great amount of trouble.... help me...help me..." Mot awoke to found a crowd of people watching him. He did not like crowds. he coul dbarely perform in front of them 011009 ... mister mourning he wished he had taken the pill the third chair violin had offered him to soothe his nerves he remembered that guy had neary suffered a complete breakdown after his relationship with the enigmatic redheat in the clarinet section had gone terribly awry. well, if nothing else, there was the absinthe 011009 ... Teenage Jesus Mot shook his head violently. "What the hell?!" Cellist, engineer? Cellist, engineer? Suddenly, a half thawed chicken struck him in the back of the neck. "Mot! Mot! Wake up, your safe now!" "Where am I?" 011010 ... silentbob the half thawed chicken explained, "You're in the land of All_things_edible You're now one of the many foods that didn't quite get eaten and left in the refridgerator for a number of weeks, collecting all kinds of green life forms." "But i'm a man." "And i'm a CHICKEN! Now get back to work!" "What the fuck? I thought you said i was safe now" "Safe is such a relative term. by safe i meant, enslaved! Go!" 011010 ... mister mourning he felt the sting of a lash at his back and realized that one of the slave-drivers was a plate of potato salad "so," he thought, as he got in line, "this is what happens when food goes bad." 011010 ... unhinged he woke finally to the nurse shaking his shoulder. they said it was one of the symptoms. the dreams where he thought he was waking up but he was really still dreaming. and that cello...that damn reoccuring cello. maybe it was just a fantasy. there was no explanation based in reality for it. "Time for your morning pills Mot" he stuck out his hand for the blue pills and swallowed them a little too quickly. 011010 ... god they caught in the back of his throat. he gagged, then vomited a little. he washed it all down quickly with a dixie cup full of lukewarm tap water. 011010 ... god he crumpled the cup and dropped it in the wastebasket, now brimming over with used cups. he ambled back to his corner under the semi-watchful eyes of the attendants. he slumped down in an uncomfortable hard wooden chair, cold and unyielding. his mind drifted. thoughts of his cat, sonya, played across his consciousness. cello music creeped and drifted through his brain as the drugs began to take hold. 011011 ... the corrector crept and drifted. 011011 ... unhinged