So...I finally decided to write something.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
"Why do you always do that?"
"Do what? Make you face reality? I'm so over your childish notions that you'll ever get anywhere with this shit you call art."
And that was it. If you could take a snapshot of the moment where a person's life stops going one way and takes a violent turn in another direction, that's when the camera clicked and the flashbulb lit up. In that one statement everything finally came crashing down and all of the rejection and criticism finally caught up with her. Everything seemed so much clearer now. They were all wrong, everyone she's ever met. It's not that she wasn't great, no; it was all the closed minded people living inside of their narrow, safe little boxes that couldn't understand the genius of her work. Yes, isn't that how it always is with artists? They're always just ahead of their time and people don't appreciate what they've done until many years after their death. That was it, she was just too far ahead of everyone else. Why didn't she see it before?
"Are you listening to me? I'm sick and tired of working my ass off out in the real world while you do nothing."
"It's not nothing."
Ha, the real world, what a joke. If that's the world that's real I'd rather stay in my faux one. Real, real, real. What is reality anyway? Just because you say it's real, does that actually make it so?
"Well it sure isn't doing anything for society."
That's rich I'm sure he's doing just so, so much for society in his tiny little office, filling out useless paperwork and kissing his bosses ass every day. Why are people always going on about society? It's really nothing to be proud of, yet they make it seem so very special and important.
"I don't give a fuck about doing anything for society. It's never done anything for me."
"There you go again with that tortured artist bullshit again. You need to face the fact that you're going nowhere and, frankly, I'm embarrassed sometimes to even say that I'm your boyfriend."
"You just don't understand…."
"What? Speak the hell up. Listen honey, I just want you to be something."
Oh I'm something alright, though it may be something he'll never understand. Nope, he doesn't understand much though, does he? I think I'll just have to educate him. Make him understand. Yes, I see no other choice. I really hate to have to do this to him, but some people just need more help learning than others. Nothing to worry about though, I have just the sort of very special education that he needs.
"Hey, listen I'm sorry. I just got a little carried away, come one we'll have some dinner. Hey, are you alright?"
I'm alright, actually I'm just wonderful. I'm inspired. I'm enlightened. I'm…complete. My eyes are opened, and I'm going to show everyone the light, starting with him. He's finally going to get it. This might just be one of my greatest works yet. Oh yes, an absolute masterpiece, but enough wasting time, I must start my work.
"Wha…what are you doing? Hey! Be careful with that…..no…No…NO!!!"
Death is most definitely the highest form of art. And he died so beautifully.
Okay, that was a little short, but I don't actually write much. I usually stick to reading. I'd like to know though if the mix of first and third person POV was at all confusing or unpleasant?
I'm still not sure if I'm going to actually be able to be reliable and actually write a whole story, but if the feedback is good I'll try. Thanks for reading.