Name: VIPPER 2011-05-27 8:52
Our family house has always had this big stone, sitting in the middle of our back lawn.
I doubt it's been there forever, but I wouldn't count out thousands of years.
When I was little, I asked my dad about it, but he always told me that he was busy. He didn't have that much time for me, I guess.
I asked my mother, and she told me to look it up in one of those encyclopedias, and she bought me a complete set of volumes, but it said nothing there about why this stone was in our backyard.
I asked a bunch of grownups about the stone, and they told me that I would understand as I grew older.
...so I thought that perhaps my television would tell me about it, and it did. The earlier show I watched painted the stone in all the colors of the rainbow, and told me that stones are found in backyards. As I became about 10-12, they told me that the stone was sacred, and stood for truth and justice, and was protected by awesome heroes that fought for good, against the forces of evil that sought to destroy it. It explained everything that I wanted to know about the stone, and its answers satisfied me, and I swore to always protect the stone from evil, no matter what.
Then I noticed that there were no heroes in real life, but the stone was still there.
So I went to a shrink, and I told them that there was this stone in my backyard that I didn't want to protect anymore, and that I thought it looked rather ugly sitting there, and that I had these thoughts about getting rid of it. The shrink told me that she would help me. I asked her if she was just after my money, but she ensured me that she wasn't.
The shrink ask me to tell me about my childhood, and I told her about growing up with the rock, how I felt about the rock, about my parents, about what had happened yesterday, and so on, but nothing seemed to spring from these conversations, and as soon as I started asking her about how I would handle the rock, then she told me that the time for the conversation was over.
...so one day I told her that these conversations seemed rather pointless, and asked her if there wasn't anything I could do about the rock. She told me that she didn't really treat rocks, and that she only treated people and their thoughts about rocks, but that she would recommend me to some experts.
The experts scanned my brain and did lots of thorough tests, and arrived at the absolutely definite conclusion, according to the DSM rulebook, that I was nuts. To them it was obvious - why else would I care about a rock in my backyard? They prescribed me medication to make me not care about the rock, and for awhile I took my meds and didn't care about rocks, cleaning my room or anything really. Life was good.
...but life was fake. I didn't like that even though I was on drugs, the stone was actually still there, and that I actually didn't like it without the drugs, and that being on drugs wasn't an actual solution, so one day I stopped taking my meds, endured the anguish and suicide thoughts that followed, and looked at the problem sober: There was still a stone in my backyard.
At this time I also had to deal with my parents dying. If they ever knew about whatever secrets the stone was holding, they this into the grave with them. I inherited their house, though, and the back lawn, with the stone sitting in the middle of it.
...so I started asking my friends about the stone. At first they seemed to listen, but after awhile they started avoiding me, and soon enough I found them hanging out with the stone in my backyard. I had lost all my friends to the stone. Somehow a stone was more charming than me. I tried to ask why, but then they ran from me, looking terrified and ashamed.
...so I thought that maybe it was a police matter, so I went to the police and filed charges against the stone. They told me that although it was technically against the laws of my country to have stones this big in ones backyard, they just didn't care enough to do anything about it, as I just wasn't famous enough. This surprised me.
I even went to a prosecutor directly, who invited me into her fancy office and told me that while there was nothing that she could do, that I shouldn't worry, because there was a cosmic justice that would some day, in some day, deal with the rock, just as it deals with every rock in the world sooner or later.
I went around looking for this cosmic justice for a long time, in every religion I knew of, and in every fancy magical thing I heard of, but none of them had the power to move the rock in my backyard. I found that in China they even had these zen gardens where they raked tracks in sand around rocks instead of dealing with them, regarding rocks as eternal, sacred and unbreakable.
After having me insisting about the rock in my backyard for awhile, the policemen came to my house and arrested me for having the rock in my backyard, and fined me for everything I had. Apparently I was a bad, bad man in some way, that the policemen loathed out loud. Maybe if there would have been heroes in the world like the television had told me, they would have protected the rock against evils like me.
The rock is still there, sitting in the middle of my back lawn. Sometimes I think it's not just laughing at me, but at all of society, perhaps all of humanity, for having outsmarted it.
Maybe I should buy myself a crowbar and wedge it out of the ground myself.
Just a thought.
Naahh, I'd rather write a long story about it and post it on 4chan. It will be too long for them to read, and they certainly won't care, but that's my way of dealing with it.
I doubt it's been there forever, but I wouldn't count out thousands of years.
When I was little, I asked my dad about it, but he always told me that he was busy. He didn't have that much time for me, I guess.
I asked my mother, and she told me to look it up in one of those encyclopedias, and she bought me a complete set of volumes, but it said nothing there about why this stone was in our backyard.
I asked a bunch of grownups about the stone, and they told me that I would understand as I grew older.
...so I thought that perhaps my television would tell me about it, and it did. The earlier show I watched painted the stone in all the colors of the rainbow, and told me that stones are found in backyards. As I became about 10-12, they told me that the stone was sacred, and stood for truth and justice, and was protected by awesome heroes that fought for good, against the forces of evil that sought to destroy it. It explained everything that I wanted to know about the stone, and its answers satisfied me, and I swore to always protect the stone from evil, no matter what.
Then I noticed that there were no heroes in real life, but the stone was still there.
So I went to a shrink, and I told them that there was this stone in my backyard that I didn't want to protect anymore, and that I thought it looked rather ugly sitting there, and that I had these thoughts about getting rid of it. The shrink told me that she would help me. I asked her if she was just after my money, but she ensured me that she wasn't.
The shrink ask me to tell me about my childhood, and I told her about growing up with the rock, how I felt about the rock, about my parents, about what had happened yesterday, and so on, but nothing seemed to spring from these conversations, and as soon as I started asking her about how I would handle the rock, then she told me that the time for the conversation was over.
...so one day I told her that these conversations seemed rather pointless, and asked her if there wasn't anything I could do about the rock. She told me that she didn't really treat rocks, and that she only treated people and their thoughts about rocks, but that she would recommend me to some experts.
The experts scanned my brain and did lots of thorough tests, and arrived at the absolutely definite conclusion, according to the DSM rulebook, that I was nuts. To them it was obvious - why else would I care about a rock in my backyard? They prescribed me medication to make me not care about the rock, and for awhile I took my meds and didn't care about rocks, cleaning my room or anything really. Life was good.
...but life was fake. I didn't like that even though I was on drugs, the stone was actually still there, and that I actually didn't like it without the drugs, and that being on drugs wasn't an actual solution, so one day I stopped taking my meds, endured the anguish and suicide thoughts that followed, and looked at the problem sober: There was still a stone in my backyard.
At this time I also had to deal with my parents dying. If they ever knew about whatever secrets the stone was holding, they this into the grave with them. I inherited their house, though, and the back lawn, with the stone sitting in the middle of it.
...so I started asking my friends about the stone. At first they seemed to listen, but after awhile they started avoiding me, and soon enough I found them hanging out with the stone in my backyard. I had lost all my friends to the stone. Somehow a stone was more charming than me. I tried to ask why, but then they ran from me, looking terrified and ashamed.
...so I thought that maybe it was a police matter, so I went to the police and filed charges against the stone. They told me that although it was technically against the laws of my country to have stones this big in ones backyard, they just didn't care enough to do anything about it, as I just wasn't famous enough. This surprised me.
I even went to a prosecutor directly, who invited me into her fancy office and told me that while there was nothing that she could do, that I shouldn't worry, because there was a cosmic justice that would some day, in some day, deal with the rock, just as it deals with every rock in the world sooner or later.
I went around looking for this cosmic justice for a long time, in every religion I knew of, and in every fancy magical thing I heard of, but none of them had the power to move the rock in my backyard. I found that in China they even had these zen gardens where they raked tracks in sand around rocks instead of dealing with them, regarding rocks as eternal, sacred and unbreakable.
After having me insisting about the rock in my backyard for awhile, the policemen came to my house and arrested me for having the rock in my backyard, and fined me for everything I had. Apparently I was a bad, bad man in some way, that the policemen loathed out loud. Maybe if there would have been heroes in the world like the television had told me, they would have protected the rock against evils like me.
The rock is still there, sitting in the middle of my back lawn. Sometimes I think it's not just laughing at me, but at all of society, perhaps all of humanity, for having outsmarted it.
Maybe I should buy myself a crowbar and wedge it out of the ground myself.
Just a thought.
Naahh, I'd rather write a long story about it and post it on 4chan. It will be too long for them to read, and they certainly won't care, but that's my way of dealing with it.