Fiction Friday-WOOOOO!

News: I  have an official boyfriend, he met the family, they love him, Bailee quit PMS, I cried and now I'm PMS'ing.

Now on to Fiction Friday.

I had a friend comment on a status update with "Mmmm, brains." So. That's gonna inspire today's Fiction Friday.  I hope you like it.

Brains

by This Girl

I've been sitting here, in this jar, for what seems like ages. Floating around in formaldehyde, with no stimulus other than the occasional mad scientist's assistant coming in to steal one of my neighbors for some crazy, misguided experiment. They never pick me.  They barely even glance in my direction.  I'm going to be honest and say that it's beginning to effect what was once a brilliant and somewhat egocentric mind.  I was never the last one picked. Always the first, always the best.  And now there is a film of dust covering the label on my jar that screams to the world two names that during my life were connected with the word genius.  I honestly couldn't tell you at this point of my death what those two names were, but I hope you'll forgive me as it's been years since this brain was actually inside a skull.

I can remember how I died. An argument with the wife distracted me whilst I was combining elements that required precision in measurements, and boom! My hands were blown to smithereens and I bled out on my laboratory floor while she screamed like a banshee for help that never came. Why I ever married that woman is a question I have pondered on countless occasions while on this shelf. I should have stayed in the lab when my dear mother told me to come upstairs for that ridiculous party.  I should have never bowed to societal pressures and began courting that ridiculous creature, and should definitely not have placed a carbon allotrope ring on her finger.  She was always nagging about how I loved my work more than I loved her, and she was right. That night she had gotten upset about my missing a dinner party. She claimed my absence caused her embarrassment.  Usually, her complaints fell on deaf ears, but the addition of flying missiles being hurled at me from the staircase caused my attention to wander.  I'm sure she has since remarried, or has died of consumption. I don't know and I don't care.

I long for the day when a hunchbacked Igor will grab my jar from the shelf.  When a Dr. Frankenstein will take my gray matter into his hands and plunge me into the cavernous skull of some patchwork cadaver, then animate me with the electricity of the gods.  The day will come when I will be able to walk and talk and create again.  My research was on the verge of completion when that harpy ended my life with her absolute idiocy.  An irony to die while researching immortality, but no one can say that I don't have a sense of humor.  Didn't have a sense of humor, as I can hardly laugh in my current state.

The day will come. I'll be plunked from the death I could not avoid and live again. My hands may be larger and rougher than my delicate, white hands with which I was born.  My gait may be lumbering.  My speech may be impaired, but the ideas and the genius behind them will be immediately recognizable.  I will outreach even my new master in regards to fighting and beating death.  I will conquer death and with it, the world.

If I had a mouth, I would maniacally laugh right now.

   

Breakdown....communication style.

I'm not ashamed to post this photo. Note the Blackberry in my hand.

It seems like we are getting further away from each other as more and more ways to stay connected are created. E-mail, skype, texting, online chatting...all were created so that we can keep tabs on each other in a convenient, time efficient manner. But there is something missing, an integral piece of the puzzle that is somehow lacking. I have found lately that even my closest relationships have been compromised due to the fact that with so many ways to communicate, we all try to make small bits of time for everyone and are now spread too thin.

For a while , I was so busy that the only time I caught up with people was on facebook chat or through e-mails. I knew I wasn't able to see them, so I would check in to make sure they still remembered that I existed. These friendships that I held so dear took a back burner to my career, to my art, to my self involvement. We would text about events in our lives, and have short, quick phone conversations to confirm one thing or another. But recently, I've had time to actually reconnect with these wonderful individuals, and sometimes, just sometimes, it feels odd. Being face to face has become an anomaly. Hugging goodbye is a change from TTYL. Laughing together has replaced the LOL. And I like it. I like it a lot.

There are days when I just want to punt my iPhone. When I want to bash my laptop with a bat. Where I want to grab my princess phone from when I was sixteen and lay on my bed and have a real conversation with someone. When I want to grab all of my girlfriends and be in a room together and sleep on the floor and make forts and eat junk food until we feel like we're going to puke. But there are husbands. There are boyfriends. There are kids. There are boyfriends who act like kids. There's 9-5 and 5-10. There's life. And I get that. I want to reconnect, with hands and hearts and hugs and love. Leave the cables and the webcams and the carpal tunnel syndrome and the text speak that bastardizes this beautiful language that has risen from grunts and squeaks and evolved into something that creates poetry and prose, and get back to a life where holding refers to hands. Where chat refers to a conversation over coffee. Where a message is a jotted note. Where "You've got mail" refers to a letter, in an envelope, with a stamp, in someone's own handwriting.

I think I've blogged about this before, but I guess it's a point of mine that really needs reiteration. Check your news feed for the link, e-mail it to your friends, and look for it on my Twitter account. Or just create a new google ID and follow me. It's that easy to stay connnected. :)