by RetroRomper » Mon Jul 19, 2010 5:51 pm
Note: This was paper I submitted to my english class to describe "an experience." Thought it may be of interest because of the subject matter and because I'm assuming that Mr. Sherwin is a man of words. Moderate at your leisure.
My face is slightly flushed and I can feel the steady rhythm of my heart pounding precariously against my chest; at this I turn my arm up, my eyes casually reading over the marks planted on my forearm to remind myself exactly why the world is blurring together. I carefully count the slashes I've made and find: twenty strokes of a marker. At this I realize that in my hand is drink number twenty, two zero, and that next to me is a girl who has at this point stopped talking and has looked over with me to the count and smiles, “Do you want to be remembered for being hardcore?†I shrug and we pick up where the conversation left off. Topics clash, they meander and finally we begin to discuss old video games and Zork, of all things, is introduced into the conversation. Casually, I mention that there is a sort of goth version of the game and I spend a minute talking about the plot, having seen interest in her eyes.
She perks up slightly and asks “Can you show me?†Later I would realize that we had excluded ourselves from the festival, the party at large, having talked for nearly an hour and creating between ourselves a bubble, our own world of two. Right at this exact moment, I merely nod my head and allow her to guide me quietly to the back, to a door that has been spurned by the rest of the guests because simply, it is locked. She opens it for me and takes my jab of “I guess you turn the key†with supreme grace, then she laughs as I appear disoriented as around me the light slowly turns from pitch black to a yellowish orange that transforms into a soft hue of tainted white; my vision is forced to catch up with itself as the transformation of the light takes on an interesting gradient in my eyes. I look back at her as I sit down and play with her computer, feeling anxious to get over with the silliness of downloads and files. We say a few words, our eyes on the screen and as the title screen comes into being, she laughs. “A text game, huh?†I smile slyly in unison with her; its that kind of night.
With the girl on my lap, and in her eyes drunken interest, we play for maybe ten, fifteen minutes. Its a quick progression; she's laughing at the descriptions of Duffy's friends and expresses her enjoyment at seeing a girl wearing a choker in a video game (“Its a text game; with pictures.â€). Finally we get to the mall, the place where the game starts being a game, and the girl on my knee has become emotionally riled with the argument that Duffy is having with Audrey. She has at this point given me the information that she had dealt with a boyfriend akin to that before; gifted but stuck because he was too familiar, too comfortable with mediocre surroundings. But the sequence at the mall has begun and were at the point where the lights go out; I had shown her the /kiss command, the /fuck response as crude jests and I input the former here. The hidden text appears and I leave it for a moment to float on the screen, “I place my hand on her shoulder and spin her around quickly. I tilt her head the slightest bit upwards, briefly running my fingers through the close-cut hair on the back of her neck that drives me so crazy to touch, and give her a very quick, but very intense kiss.†I shake her slightly, smile at her and speak, “that is what true moments are, right?†I stare at the screen and fail to register that not only has the pressure of a human body left my leg, but the lights have suddenly gone dark. Then the monitor in front of me commits suicide; a sacrifice to the possibilities two humans can explore in the night.
Tense, with a neck turning and a mind spinning, it is at this moment that I feel her settle back on my lap and realize that her arms are wrapped around me. We kiss and in the dark, we share a very long moment. The rest is of course a matter of rumor and pointless response as to what exactly people do in the dark while rummed beyond the measure. Was there talking? Kissing? Falling asleep in bed against a warm body? Was all of this innocent, slightly romantic, geeky maybe? Perhaps, but regardless of how it came about, or the excuse we used to be alone together, it was at the very least, a moment.
----------------------------------
“I get the sense that she is right in front of me, although facing away. I place my hand on her shoulder and spin her around quickly. I tilt her head the slightest bit upwards, briefly running my fingers through the close-cut hair on the back of her neck that drives me so crazy to touch, and give her a very quick, but very intense kiss. She returns it in full. She's supposed to be mad at me, I'm supposed to be mad at her, but with the complete loss of light and power, we take the moment to totally not care.
Its not something I could have gotten away with in light... and probably, something that the both of us will pretend to ignore when the lights come back.†(Necrotic Drift, Robb Sherwin)
Note: This was paper I submitted to my english class to describe "an experience." Thought it may be of interest because of the subject matter and because I'm assuming that Mr. Sherwin is a man of words. Moderate at your leisure.
My face is slightly flushed and I can feel the steady rhythm of my heart pounding precariously against my chest; at this I turn my arm up, my eyes casually reading over the marks planted on my forearm to remind myself exactly why the world is blurring together. I carefully count the slashes I've made and find: twenty strokes of a marker. At this I realize that in my hand is drink number twenty, two zero, and that next to me is a girl who has at this point stopped talking and has looked over with me to the count and smiles, “Do you want to be remembered for being hardcore?†I shrug and we pick up where the conversation left off. Topics clash, they meander and finally we begin to discuss old video games and Zork, of all things, is introduced into the conversation. Casually, I mention that there is a sort of goth version of the game and I spend a minute talking about the plot, having seen interest in her eyes.
She perks up slightly and asks “Can you show me?†Later I would realize that we had excluded ourselves from the festival, the party at large, having talked for nearly an hour and creating between ourselves a bubble, our own world of two. Right at this exact moment, I merely nod my head and allow her to guide me quietly to the back, to a door that has been spurned by the rest of the guests because simply, it is locked. She opens it for me and takes my jab of “I guess you turn the key†with supreme grace, then she laughs as I appear disoriented as around me the light slowly turns from pitch black to a yellowish orange that transforms into a soft hue of tainted white; my vision is forced to catch up with itself as the transformation of the light takes on an interesting gradient in my eyes. I look back at her as I sit down and play with her computer, feeling anxious to get over with the silliness of downloads and files. We say a few words, our eyes on the screen and as the title screen comes into being, she laughs. “A text game, huh?†I smile slyly in unison with her; its that kind of night.
With the girl on my lap, and in her eyes drunken interest, we play for maybe ten, fifteen minutes. Its a quick progression; she's laughing at the descriptions of Duffy's friends and expresses her enjoyment at seeing a girl wearing a choker in a video game (“Its a text game; with pictures.â€). Finally we get to the mall, the place where the game starts being a game, and the girl on my knee has become emotionally riled with the argument that Duffy is having with Audrey. She has at this point given me the information that she had dealt with a boyfriend akin to that before; gifted but stuck because he was too familiar, too comfortable with mediocre surroundings. But the sequence at the mall has begun and were at the point where the lights go out; I had shown her the /kiss command, the /fuck response as crude jests and I input the former here. The hidden text appears and I leave it for a moment to float on the screen, “I place my hand on her shoulder and spin her around quickly. I tilt her head the slightest bit upwards, briefly running my fingers through the close-cut hair on the back of her neck that drives me so crazy to touch, and give her a very quick, but very intense kiss.†I shake her slightly, smile at her and speak, “that is what true moments are, right?†I stare at the screen and fail to register that not only has the pressure of a human body left my leg, but the lights have suddenly gone dark. Then the monitor in front of me commits suicide; a sacrifice to the possibilities two humans can explore in the night.
Tense, with a neck turning and a mind spinning, it is at this moment that I feel her settle back on my lap and realize that her arms are wrapped around me. We kiss and in the dark, we share a very long moment. The rest is of course a matter of rumor and pointless response as to what exactly people do in the dark while rummed beyond the measure. Was there talking? Kissing? Falling asleep in bed against a warm body? Was all of this innocent, slightly romantic, geeky maybe? Perhaps, but regardless of how it came about, or the excuse we used to be alone together, it was at the very least, a moment.
----------------------------------
“I get the sense that she is right in front of me, although facing away. I place my hand on her shoulder and spin her around quickly. I tilt her head the slightest bit upwards, briefly running my fingers through the close-cut hair on the back of her neck that drives me so crazy to touch, and give her a very quick, but very intense kiss. She returns it in full. She's supposed to be mad at me, I'm supposed to be mad at her, but with the complete loss of light and power, we take the moment to totally not care.
Its not something I could have gotten away with in light... and probably, something that the both of us will pretend to ignore when the lights come back.†(Necrotic Drift, Robb Sherwin)