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three stories incomplete

Edward_Juarez · Kỳ huyễn
Không đủ số lượng người đọc
3 Chs

for now, a satire

Growing up in the hardest streets where two young cousins, found out how much they relied on eachother, even when no one was looking.

The day was like others, very plain, but inside.... cousins never fade. Like that shade! where the shadow starts long, not wide yet, the mid day will bring the shadows back up under the trees, where these two cousins would talk about

why the faded glory of that day, would be like the gray, to night, lack of white, moon, inside, night lights; before: two different places: where, sisters made their dinner. Just to do it all again, and what would suffice? what would come next? Thats a question for doctors or lawyers or priest, little did one of them?>(the future) know.... why it would be like that, now where a handshake means: throw that rock, the window met, evening fire flies thrown sparks around your head, but wait a minute lets back up a bit, window, and run! a way? from that house....

a very strong adrenalin rush these cousins fated just then, and they would do it again, and again, and one day, would have one, going, the same way, as, the other right? little did one know....Life is crazy, but, little did, they; know,. That soon the writing on the wall one could only read, but to make this story short without ending it, he just passed by it, though his thousand mile stare, was.... why.....

at such a young age the both of them, that kind of stare you know eyes and sight, has to come, from somewhere, tuff men all around teaching them money power respect, but one of them agreed, with greed, and the othersaw lie cheat and steal instead. but this is not the point in my outline for this story, this is the proceeded textual temporal wolffian expeririment personafied by, two cousins living and survivng in the concrete jungle, where cats and little dogs would walk by, with their ownwers, and big dogs and big cats, didn't hang out together. less or more, at: The Skies The LimiT INN, for real boys that weren't orphans like these to cousins, who were, none of your B  I  BUISNESS! YES  this concrete jungle, where the sun would set and one would want the light, and the other, the hole.....the barrier of culture was easy to see, yet language made everyone know the bible saying, thou shalt not steal, thou shall not kill, and, somehow people speak to eachother, everyday, and steal and kill and even pretend, they know what to read.heck why read!

of celebacy and two sexes was pronounced by the motherly approach to the new men of the negation of their souls, these boys, those cousins, these worlds that mother earth would never allow the irony of celebate nuns to easily manage what somehow in this world happened these days. hOMELESS CHILDREN IN MOTHER EARTH. THE year of our lord it was somewhere anywhere in one place at some time and the year was to these cousins not important! tHey had the porage, they had sistter mary clarence and mother teresa didn't even exist yet! to save those poor starving magical children. GOd bless nuns without them we would have you or me or those people that could not see those cousins, that were to this world, very important, as say a joke to make someone laugh, and be called liberal, or back then one time in the land, you could kill jesus christ and even hate him, maybe it was because he wasn't a nun? Maybe its because he saved every child in the world of men at bars, lived at bars, met no nun at a bar, sister mary clarence was married to jesus, yet did not sin in confidence, or as some saints did, in perfectionism, meant to be known as wickedness to all the poor saints who knowone knew then and these, cousins, these cousins, were around them, and they slept next to other orphans, from diferent fathers, different histories, different lovers, and none of them paid the nun's rent for their son's blankets and food and they even wore shoes and shirts to sunday school and to prayer, they may have been the last to at first, but with any effort, the value of the future of mother teresa would be humble, like those starving kids she fed, just like orphans or kings servants children, who were, not of the same blood, but, nun's see differently, they pray and marry God and don't have sex. THis latter fact, maybe, MAY BE! THE.....Diffrence, maybe not or, at when the clock strikes and the children play, the sun of god was not heard here to stay, and was the kindom of heaven is and earth now , where children, not all of them, forgot that children wore shoes and shirts to sunday school they even ate porage and lived in homes or, more frank, THE SKIES THE LIMIT INN, when no sin would ever be not known for the nuns knew thier wickedness of the negation of perfection, while to this love of long life writes, types, on mescaline, heroine and strawbwerry milk eating liverwurst sandwhiches, has something to say about us. when we all stop questioning our wickedness, we could never be nun's! that is the way OF...A...WORLD! and what is the ways of our worlds, bARRIERS, Just cultural ones, you know the wolfian experiment personified, i am now to personify the last 150 years in two  paragraphs, very virginia woolfian to the lighthouse.

the last 150 years.   slavery finally ended and now, cultural spirituality.

two worls wars, and now , the internet.

very woolfian indeed.

                 

So, do we travel under arerrrrrrrrrrR.

WEEEEEEE!

do we .....do

beeeeeeee! the bees disapeard what did that pantheist say?!!!!

relativity and gravity is the apple falling far from, elsewhere.....

end of chapter one of this very short story                 

    

         chapter 2   the confrontations of two souls in waking life

            epigraph  'i don't want to be an ant....."

                                                                   animation/human actress

         Remembering to keep wholly the sabbath to young orphans Murdoc

and Fydor, two cousins at that moment in time a coupling a double exposure moreso than ajuxtaposition more homogenious to themselves than annalogous and heterogenious to,  the division, of their coupling not per say, but as the scientist of the inventions concern, proactive sustainabilty is, possibly, inadvertant. That is to say that Murdoc and Fydor were both the bothg of them toyoung boys two young boys too. Yet,.....

evolution allows division, for, connection! Yet,.... these two a coupling, would soon be divided, from their connection to the all of cousinship, many years later prey tell, yet, sometimes in life the smallest heroism, could be, anothers romantic obscurity. I hope i haven't entailed too much for the major incident that cannot be gone or the outcome of the plot structure will not be, where it can be, suprisingly obvious like reality, the plot climax that will show the inner change of, two cousins, well things in life have to happen, first, and to these two boys. FRom boys to men, can be very misleading, when they think one thing is this, but , it really is their future.... so, when murdoc kept the sabbath wholly and so did fydor, both knew that to keep it wholly one must also attend sunday school, not just 'only just', as ms. joyce carol oats proses, one mass gathering of church and conventional convent, yet shoes and shirts to sunday school and mass, was holy yes HOLY! HOLY! HOLY! as amy hungerford belts out at yales the great american novel course on youtube, yet i do not remember the author, but yes HOLY was the next fated glory of the heroic spirit of catholic orphanage

syncronistic, or as something cleverly stated, DESTINY'S FATE, THE CONFRONTATIONS OF TWO SOULS, after sunday school after morning mass

and through the wordsworth never forever FOREVER NEVER! eva eva Eva!

It goes something like this:

Hey, may be! you'd like to say something, you know do, something about this....

well um... i like playing marbles, what? and i have 4 of them,and  father belvidere said maybe i can get another marble tommorow, this is my first day here, what's your name?

wanna be my friend?

so, hah you wanna play some marbles hah? my little babuska.....

um.... what um..... i just thought

Now! just before them, murdoc, in front, of, the little timid future of that unreliable heroe, who knew she loved him but, allowance of this was to reliable and, later in this life, he would even say the classic literary traditional verbage, I   AM   A SICK MAN..... but don't get me wrong, he was a timid orphan who had marbles, and he was soon to be a friend, of fydors, oh how he and him the two them would know how, what Murdoc didn't seem to limit when he easily stood by one of them, oh how before they: two roads diverged in a wood and i, i    took! the one less travelled bye! Murdoc! and that has made all ... the difference. but for now..... three is a crowd. but, murdoc and his cousin fydor, would somehow not know the difference, between standing up for heroes, like Murdoc did and befriending, a little boy who loved, father belvidere. Like fydor....

Did.

chapter 3 communication

It is pschologically verified that people who read alot, and novels are included, are taken by the social conversation. In fact, they are socially more versed and apt to be communicators, in our tradition of internet cafes

and warm fuzzy logical romances of the division, that only allows, coonnection. For Fydor, he decided, to try, to write, a novel. In fact he was three pages in, imagining what could be next, in the ways of the segment in the sequence, of a sentence as he thought about phenomena that was natural and even may have had a title, these processes of expression, empathy, and of course, inexperience. So he knew that luck for a russian, was synonymous with, life, when you live thirty years now in America, as a foriegn exchange student at the adult school of russian formalism, where experimentaion was a coupling with his past, sister mary clarence who gave himm this dream, only life is funny in a way. when she lead him to the

hallway that would be his youth in moment of moments she almost never lived her life in america as as he did now, as a foreign exchange program for nuns in the literature for cannonical russian formalist studies, and she even let Fydor be that little hallway that he felt was a home, she had that much of an allagorical impact on his not then known, literary, personal, future, as a didactic in words yet genorous in impressions moment, of the etiquitte of the phantom of humility, that would never convert his own personality to someone else idea of humility, yet didacticly, and yet human error possibly, to incorporate his possibly pre mature nature didacticly, of the humility in the characters in his own, minds eye. They were to be generous, in intention, no, impression first, then, next, intention of in first principle: as a neurobiologist would metaphysically believe, his main characters sight, into, her eyes. He could see it, it was a emotion, and a face, as he thought, there are a billion faes, and hers, and then he thought, for some reason, there are billions of trees, and it was a tree, he must of got this natural observation from sister mary clarence, because he felt as if the words, not yet written were just, a little hallway in the drawing room, of the impression of the feminine aptitude of that first principle of the right actions. then out of knowwhere he thought about the great book men are from mars, women are from venus, and he realized, quantification, and total regeneration, he realized that if women were all to themselves on one planet, and men another. WOmen would easily last, many years, ages, moment in moments, longer than, MEN! Now Fydor was soon to realize that he needed to somehow put this beauty, this conception, maybe phathom it, into the rareness of subject, verb, compliment. But, he needed to trust himself, like those with, 'the voice'. bUt he was predisposed, by blood, hallways in the past, walked through, in the murdoc's, of the recesses, of his opaque perimeter, and his transparent, core.