
durduzzđ
transcribing thoughts, exploring infinity.

durduzzđ
transcribing thoughts, exploring infinity.
Tallulah set yet another coffee cup on the table, adding to the pile that had gathered steadily over the past few weeksâŠ
Mold and yellow chunks of cream curdled in the half emptied containers that she never seemed to finish- despite ordering the largest size. Every. Single. Morning.
A tart velvety stench clung to the back of any anyoneâs throat passing the kitchen but donât get me started on the kitchen which had by all means become its own biosphere. The singular sensible question on anyoneâs mind would be âwell, why didnât you just clean the kitchen since you lived there tooâ and to that I answer- because none of the mess was mine. Not one speck, as I ate at work or in my room.
The dishes, now furry in their neglect, teemed with a carpet of flies and various other skittering nasties. The trash was overflowing with empty cans of cat food and her Trader Joeâs organic Swiss cheese inside the fridge was now green and prickly.. much like the grass we first met on.
Weâd agreed to move in together amidst a flurry of daisies, fluffy spring clouds, and oat milk lattes- who could be so similar and understand one other on a level like ours? Our friend groups, interests, and styles were embedded in each other. We were sisters, one and the same. Before Iâd known it, we held matching keys to a new two-bed room apartment and _already_ had plans to renew our lease.
Tallulah, all of 5â2, now slammed the front door behind her with all the force she could muster, tramping away in those _ridiculous_ mahogany leather boots that she thought made her look so edgy. Sheâd chopped her hair off considerably and darkend her makeup in the last couple months, no doubt emulating the poor new soul sheâd latched onto, some other girl who was unaware to her slow infection. I heard she gotten dumped? Maybe school was hard? It was strange that I didnât know my roomate anymore, my best friend, who was now an entirely different person from when weâd first met.
I tore my eyes away from trying to bore a hole through the door glaring after her and contemplated where it all went wrong. Flashbacks crash-slam through my brain until I remember! It was right around the time she started chopping her hair in the bathroom sink, successfully clogging it.
One night Iâd come home plastered drunk and fell asleep with the faucet running causing the sink to overflow and duly flood her bedroom. Iâd obviously offered to pay for her damaged belongings but I also suggested that perhaps she not cut her hair in the sink anymore. Sheâd had a tantrum about ânot knowing about her hair typeâ and âjust sticking with my braidsâ⊠Over the next couple of weeks, her mom visited the apartment frequently- never staying long and always leaving in a rush after a muffled argument from behind Tallulahâs closed door.
Our relationship eroded faster than a sand castle at shores edge. By Christmas we had stopped speaking to each other entirely and resorted to nasty little notes left in places each of us would see. Petty battles ensued over things like who would control the thermostat and how loud each others speaker was. Childish things.
Nowadays we barely saw each other, avoiding each other like the plague, we conveniently managed to exist in two separate rooms at all times. Weâd come back from winter holiday just a few weeks ago and today was the first time Iâd seen her, I mean really seen her in a long time. Her hair had gotten so short I could see the moles on her scalp, but I refused to reach out, refused to reconcile a situation sheâd blown out of proportion despite encouragement from our mutuals to make amends. She was just as capable. Looking back I wished Iâd extended the white flag but how was I supposed to know that everything would happen the way it did.. I was young, my ego was large and my pride- wounded.
Some time before finals, after a particularly grueling day of work Iâd come home to an empty apartment. Well, half emptied. Her possessions had been removed along with any traces of her as though she was never there. Just as I preferred. But I didnât have any time, no time at all, to revel in pettiness or smug elation. Fear had set in. How would I pay rent. Where had she gone. Where would I go? Was this all part of some elaborate scheme to sabotage me? Should I sue her? My heart was sinking further into the pit my stomach had become when I opened my bedroom door to find the half haphazardly folded note lying across my bed. As though she was rushing to get out of my room or couldnât be bothered to spend more time than necessary on the note. Inside, the note read:
Half of the remaining rent is paid. Tallulah has stage 4 brain cancer and will be spending the rest of the year in intensive care. Take care.
Tallulah died later that spring and I never saw her family again.
The shadows grip and squeeze until I collapse with a snap! Stifled by the hushed quiet of a long forgotten dream.
My carved smile has faded in time with the colors and music, but still I wait for the mercy of your eyes
when you open my cage and twist me back to life. I unfurl to a melody that youâve imbued with hope if only to fouettĂ© ur troubles away.
But for a few twin kling mo ments atop my ceramic stage I am free, No longer alone.
The moment before you disappear carved into my heart and memories- twisting, turning into the music you dance through
Lie yourself bare and show me your soul. Behind the curtain- everyoneâs abuzz heart pounding. Crowd murmuring. Lights lower⊠A deep breath before the velvet rises and you are no longer you, but a vessel for my hopes and my dreams and my pain⊠Break a leg.
The cream parchment unfurled onto the lamp lit desk with a satisfying âfwipâ, knocking over a little vial of pepper. Leif leaned forward to stroke the sprawling indigo ink titled âInvoiceâ. It was probably the finest paper heâd ever seen, and heâd stolen stationary from royalty.
To a Mr. Illmoriem (Leif) Bastard, species: unknown (human verified) occupation: theif, conspirer, terrorist Address: homeless
Assuming this invoice finds you in one piece and of sound mind: You are here by charged with the destruction of 3 (1+ 1+ 1) Royal Triad Sand Cruisers model K, The murder of the esteemed goblin War General Bax Ado, The collapse of The Aquatic Land Trans Alliance (ALTA), and the Sea Peoples United Treasury (SPUT).
You have been deemed a failure and impediment to this union therefor by imperial decree, your assets and possessions are to be ceased by Central Embassies where you will be tried by all nations of the globe and sentenced to public execution.
You have brought chaos and devastation to a planet already on its knees in a time of turmoil and we shall rejoice in your demise.
Signed,
Aprit Dek Daughter of Ivory Clan, Dark Elvish (Non human verified)
Royal Traidic Secretary D.E. Kingdom Cabinet Command of Public Affairs Central Embassy Rep
Leif inhaled and leaned back in his green arm chair, hands behind his head. By the sound of things, he was gonna guess his appeal had failed. Pity. He stayed like this for a while, leather boots propped up, stewing in the mess that had enveloped his life in the span of weeks. It seemed like just days ago he was only a theif, smuggling royal cargo across country for food and illegal spell jars. He glanced down at the pretty scroll again, the words TERRORIST seemed to burn a hole through the paper and desk. Now, in a few hours time heâd die for crimes every nation in the world thought he committed. His eyes found the paper again. Well, he had murdered the zealot Bax Ado who really crashed the 3 sand cruisers but what choice did Leif have while being strangled half an inch from spiked tires.
The fire sputtered, low in its hearth. Leif shivered and grabbed the thick scroll still laying across his desk, he balled it up and tossed it into the flames. He let his mind wander to pleasant memories staring at the crackling heat, most regarding food and sweet cheeses or the occasion spell jar that worked and brought even more food. Then he gasped. The spell jars.. Outside his cabin there was a knock. Through the hidden side window and the crack under the back door Leif could just make out Fire sentries surrounding the land making escape impossible. Leif was to be hung- but the Fire Sentries had a reputation for playing with their food. Heâd likely be tortured to death before he made it to the hearing. No one would know. No one would care.
He made for the trunks in his closet and began to frantically pull out every labeled jar he could find to no avail. Jar after jar, sputtered and winked in their futile states. knock knock knock.
Some would attempt to activate, glowing and floating a few inches out of Leifâs palms but ultimately fade out as they fell. Heâd given up and resigned back to his armchair in mounting panic when he noticed the pepper jar in the corner of his desk that heâd knocked over opening the letter. BAM. BAM. BAM. The imperials wanted the satisfaction of being greeted.
With timid fingers he grabbed the little vial and flipped it over.
âBanishing. Protecting. Use sparingly ;) â -Azhira
Leif tried to calm his quickening pace and stood up. Azhira wasnât someone you wanted to owe a favor to but he didnât have much of a choice. He unscrewed the cap and poured the contents out at his feet just as the door splintered apart and flames engulfed him.
The cabin caught fire and the Fire Sentries made for the entrance, unaffected by the heat. Behind them, Aprit Dek stepped through the doorway surveying the damage, her crimson eyes took in every detail. The sentries began to remove stolen possessions, giving her a wide berth as they exited behind her when she snapped her fingers. Everyone stopped. âWhere is he? And sure enough, amidst the recovered treasures, priceless equipment, and roaring flames that licked at their faces and clothes - Illmoriem had disappeared.
Do you remember, the clouds were frosted with pinks and golden tomorrows. and what of the setting sun? whose flames extinguished from behind you on the plane.
Dusk kissed the palms who waved good-bye with great fronds. Night embraced the ancient cacti standing guard in the absence of light, they tower in proud solute.
and the last rays skim over the land broken glass and bits of shiny pebbles glisten, twinkling with the memories you leave behind.
A promise.
Thatâs what they told us, the ones who had dared to ask.
The Olders lived up in the mountains, in damp shadowed caves on beds of moss and poisonous mushrooms, exiled from society. They alone had taken the perilous trip beyond into the Gauldrim. They alone had payed the price of light to escape the constraints humanity had placed upon themselves. Venturing into the beyond had robbed them of their sight so they could see the past and it had taken their human form so they could assume every other. The few that now remained had imparted profound knowledge and what more? The promise of truth.
Mankind had long ago discovered an infinite energy source and eventually immortality. The dark had all but faded with the ignorance of suffering and imperfection. Now humanity was ideal and thriving, once more.
The new colonies had been dubbed Pandoram after the patron who was tricked and held blame for the cruelty that contained us for eons. Now, we were the gods.
And they the chained. Because the light had illuminated what was broken with society and fixed the kinks, it had also managed to hide what defined us. We had no motivations, no needs, or wants apparently. But I always wanted jellyback abos. Anything I could think of I had, immediately. Instant gratification, and with no tests to build our strength or character we had lost meaning as a species. Bone and matter playing aimless bumper cart on a floating rock. I asked Older Fron what a bumper cart was and he looked at me blindly from the deep orange eyes of a toad and croaked , âAll in timeâ
However being a toad for good was unappealing and I couldnât fathom what was so wrong about living forever. Then I could acquire jellyback abos whenever I wanted. Wherever I wanted! When I tried to summon a plate just to show Older Fron how good they really were I was rapped across my forehead and thrown from the cave. He didnât let me back for weeks after that.
âWeâre you born to eat, sleep, and die? Are you not then just an animal?â Hissed he in the form of a great green black serpent some time after I had been allowed back into the cave. I blinked but didnât dare make a quip about the situation at hand. âAn animal,â I continued carefully as Frons enormous viper head leveled with mine, inches from my face. âWho has no needs?â I finished, feeling very small as Fron scoffed and dismissed me. âBut wasnât this the goal!â I added in desperation âafter Pandora opened her box werenât we supposed to obtain peace again? Is that so wrong?â
Somewhere in the back of the yawning cave, from wherever Older Fron had slithered off to- a low deep voice uttered, âAt the cost of what.â
At the edge of the land, just before the ocean, Mount Gauldrim groaned and screamed under the unholy weight that had bled the land dry of life and fortune. An invisible cloud directly above the behemoth cast the mountain in sinister twisting shadows that reached across the sprawling desert in tendrils as if searching for its next victim. It was said that the ancient deities and spirits alike roamed there- soulless, robbed of their power and cursed for infinity to wander without purpose. Here, apart from the shaded caves high in the lush waterlogged mountains were the only darkness to be found here in Pandoram, forever in Spring and the warm glow of a rising sun.
Finally.
The remnants of your consumption smolder like raked embers, Mere fragments of your Unforgivable.
Yes you,
the lasts of the tsunami
that drains from the shores.
Your misery seeps,
an aching pestilence.
You wonât be missed.
I hope to see you never more.
And pray ,
That like the moon,
Your front remains
faithfully unglimpsed
The sigh that escaped my lips came from my very center. I draw on all my patience, âI was gone for five minutes! What happened here?!â The walls were smeared from floor to all of about 3 and a half feet up with bright purple crayon and meat sauce. And parsley. My 4 year old is scribbling furiously and bracing himself against the wall with his dinner covered hands as if in deep focus. He holds up a very tiny finger, still scribbling and then finishes off with a flourish! The nerve.
âBeholdâ (which comes out behoâd) he says stepping back arms wide as if heâs just finished the Mona Lisa.
Iâm looking at a very crude likeness of what I think is either the Cookie Monster or Barney and then he bows.
âYouâre very own personal complimentary masterpiece. The next one will cost ya.â
Iâm speechless. When did he get into business?
âSweet baby, what is it?â Comes out instead.
âYou mommy!â He runs at me with red arms and a sauce smeared diaper like a little spaghetti demon and hugs my legs.
Why does she hold you back like that Isnât she your best friend Praying on your downfall Trying to out grow Out do Out shine you Out out out you
He was held back so long heâd forgotten what he wanted and what was real Could he even still feel? That resilience Had eroded Slowly
What could he achieve
without the starving ocean
taking with each leave.
And lapping at his shores,
He deserved better, he deserves more
With heavy heart
And choked emotion
He shook his head
and shut that door wide open.
Over the years Iâve accomplished many things. Wild successes, and bucking dreams that were harnessed not without your support.
So itâs only fair I ask you to join me as I lay to rest an erađ
A period known for my greatest adventures, where many of you were there dancing along side me.
But shenanigans and tomfooleryâs aside no adventure will ever compare to that of true love, and so sacrifices were made and compromises had.
Friends and family (the two sisters this got sent to) today I ask you to join me for a Sayonara Saturday to farewell a true soldier.
A soldier who played the long game, a hard game. Weâll be having one last go round, an EPIC bachelorette party so get ready and see yâall at
Phase Out
âThe end of my hoe phaseâ
Crying in the club,
Maeve
Where: Princess Palace đ° Time: 10:30 pm SHARP đđŸ Attire: Icon core đ€©đ Gifts: byow, money, collagen, Jimmy Chooâs, Sapphires, pearls.