First Draft
These posts contain the story which I’ve held captive and unrealized for almost a decade, and have wished for equally as long to simply release out into the world. You are reading a rough draft – not a completed, polished work. I'm intentionally allowing these pages to be rough, ugly, truthful – or they can be playful and careless. I won't require them to be well-written, or coherent, with some commercially-viable story line. So feel free to engage, comment, and learn as I do. But please do note: I know nearly as much as you do about where this story leads. Show All
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Page 30
It had been over two months since Ben had written in this notebook. God, did he feel awful today. God, did he feel so awful, so often. Why? Why him? Why would someone so ambitious and so excited for life have so many days in which he just desperately wished for death? The only times he actually felt clear, focused, energized and well seemed to be those in which he was fasting from all food and drink, save for water, and perhaps tea. Otherwise, it was all a crapshoot as to whether or not he would have a happy, productive day or a distraught, emotional, unproductive one. He had scoured…
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Page 31
A day had passed. BENJAMIN had released control, gone outside to plant potatoes for the rest of the day. He had drank a few glasses of wine and eaten good food. And while he did feel slightly better today, he still felt completely incapable of managing or controlling his emotions. He still felt entirely incapable of working to make money on the computer (some researchers are starting to theorize that ADHD symptoms primarily stem from emotional dysregulation). He, alone in his tiny house, found himself screaming wildly back at his landlord’s rooster, which would not stop screeching. “SHUT THE FUCK UP!” he would cry out, desperately imagining its head being…
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Page 32
BENJAMIN felt the cycle concluding at last. He had bravely stood unguarded with the dark beast throughout the last several days. He had allowed it to do as it must. He did not shiver, fight or flail this time. He embraced the beast as a part of his world, and this time it had simply snarled at him for a few moments and dragged him only a short distance. Then, once it had had its fill of violence, it released him and moved along, down it’s well-worn track. These kinds of events were cyclical in his world. BENJAMIN wished that they were not, and that he could have spent the…
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Page 33
His eyes shut tight, within the tiny tapestry of it’s wings he could envision TEN OR MORE ACRES OF BEAUTIFUL, TRANQUIL, PEACEFUL LAND, WHICH PERFECTLY SUITED HIS DREAM LIFE, AND INTO WHICH HE FIT PERFECTLY, LIKE A WARM BLANKET, A WARM HUG – A HOME. HE SAW A BEAUTIFUL, RUSTIC, LARGE, OPEN BUILDING, INSIDE OF WHICH HE COULD CREATE, WORK, CLEAN, COOK, SLEEP AND ENJOY THE PEACE OF THE MUNDANE. HE SAW A SOUTH-FACING SLOPE, UPON WHICH GREW A WONDERFULLY ABUNDANT GARDEN. HE SAW A GROVE OF BIRCH, SUGAR MAPLE, CONIFERS, SASSAFRAS, OAK, FRUIT AND NUT TREES TO HARVEST FROM, AND THROUGHOUT WHICH HIS ANIMALS COULD PLAY. HE COULD SEE…
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Page 34 to 35
The beast had already begun turning it’s back to him when he finally returned his attention to it. Slowly, it wheeled about in place, heavy thumps vibrating the earth. But BEN turned his focus back down to his finger and again smiled at the aphid, which continued to dance in ignorance and bliss. He then raised his hand to his shoulder, to allow the insignificant bug to go dance freely there for a time, and then to disappear somewhere down the back of his shirt. The beast completed its turn, breathing deeply as it took a few steps forward, and then halted. It stood in place, its head lowered. BEN…