So there are two stories I wrote for this that I later put into a story collection I decided to publish myself, but I've changed my mind and am gonna resubmit them here... Mostly because publishing the collection is going about as well as many of you might already suspect...
So here they are
A Blind Man Story First:
Who Am I?
What makes a person a person? Their minds? Their ideals? Their personality?
Maybe but all of that is malleable. It's developed by our experiences. So experiences are what make a person a person? However, since we live in the present our experiences are just memories.
So, Memories make the person?
I'm Mike Beller because I remember being Mike Beller? Is that all there is to it?
Well then we have a problem. Memory is flawed. Alzheimers, senility and all sorts of other things can mess with ones memories, but people who suffer from these problems don't tend to change who they are entirely. So, obviously memories can't be all that makes me a person? Well except... Maybe things like Alzheimers and Senility and the like just don't distort memories enough to truly affect ones personality. What if instead of just forgetting parts of your life you forget everything? Well Amnesia is a thing and people with Amnesia still act relatively like themselves though their dispositions can change somewhat.
Ok well then what if your memories weren't just completely lost what if they were systematically replaced?
That's impossible you say? Well now we finally get to the story.
My name is Ray Jessup. As far as I know I've been Ray Jessup for 26 years.
I have a mother and father and two sisters. I've been married for a year to a wonderful woman.
At least that's what I used to remember... Recently I've started to remember things differently. I remember a brother but everyone tells me I never had a brother. I don't remember getting married though I do still remember living with my wife for many months and she says we have been married. I've been remembering events no one else does and though I remember talking to my father just yesterday I also remember going to his funeral a month ago.
Am I Will Tenner or am I someone completely different? Are these people I see people I know or people someone else knows or people who don't exist at all?
Without memories that I can say are mine can I properly say that I exist?
I think therefore I am, but am I the one thinking or is someone else thinking these thoughts?
Am I human? Am I Male, Female? Sights I see are only memories seconds later so, I can't even trust my own eyes. I can look in the mirror and still never know if I'm white, black, male, female. I can't know anything about myself. It's all stored in my knowledge of the past and my knowledge is flawed, unverifiable.
Who am I?
and a sort of Cold Boy Story
You stand one of many in a crowd. One crowd of a thousand in this city. One city in the many within this country. This country one of many on this continent. With a few simple clicks you can contact another in one of those other crowds, in one of those other cities, in one of those other countries in one of those other continents. Maybe someday you can even contact someone on another world, in another solar system, another galaxy, another universe even. Depending on what may yet be learned, maybe even another multiverse. Yet, even in the crowd and connected to so many millions of others so easily. You are lonely. Even when you talk to others, even when you cuddle and comfort and converse. You are lonely. You are always lonely because you are you and no one else is. You will always be alone in that place behind your eyes. No one can ever truly think as you do, understand as you do. No one can be you and so no one can be with you when you're in your head. You are alone and you always will be. Unique, one of a kind, forever.
The first is called "Who Am I?" and the second is called "The Truth of Loneliness"
I'm not crazy I just use a different definition of sanity...
The Forum Blunt Instrument. "Because sometimes the only way to get through to someone is with a sledgehammer."
So look at the fleeting stars with fleeting eyes, and feel how the earth beneath you gives. It is all a temporary manifestation of particles, and it is all unraveling back to particulate silence. The bustle of the human day will come and will go. And then there will be night. -WtNV
Member No.: 376
Joined: 10-March 14
Dude, that'd be amazing. I'll wanna rewrite my story though because the current draft was rushed and is paced quite awfully.
FEAR MYTHOS BLOGS -David's Dream Journal (http://ofnightmaresanddreams.blogspot.com/) -Calls of the Silent Forsaken (http://hearthemcallingfromoutside.blogspot.com/) -Aboard the Dreadnaught (http://inthehallsofdeathsship.blogspot.com/) SLENDER MAN MYTHOS BLOGS -Pictures of Nature (http://imagesfromtheworldaroundus.blogspot.com/) NONFICTION BLOGS -Musings (https://www.tumblr.com/blog/musingsonhorrorandotherstuff)