Stress Bless

2 posts
User avatar
Gender None specified
Points 890
Reviews 38
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

God help us. God help us. God kill me. I swear on your life, God, Jehovah, almighty, creator of everything, Allah, and whatever other name you claim, that if you don’t kill me now-I’ll-I’ll, I’ll snap my fingers twice within the next thirty seconds.

I didn’t snap my fingers, so now I figure either God is dead, or I am, or I am God.

My fingers are crossed for the last scenario, though if I did turn out to be God, I’d probably kill myself, because of the stress an’ all. So that means that stress could kill God, however that is impossible because God is all powerful and all that jazz… which means stress is god!

My god I am brilliant, I just solved all the theological problems of today in a short two or three paragraphs. Admittedly it does raise some questions about Jesus, but we can leave those for the next generation. Poor generation is going to have to find out the meaning of Stress and solve global warming, or at least buy a whole lot of sunscreen.

Why such dismal thoughts (I don’t think they are dismal but you may) you might ax me? Well I, as it were, well, have no future to speak of. I am eighteen and have no prospects in life, none whatsoever. I have failed the SATS, not once but multiple times.

Panic attacks. If, I mean because, God is Stress, panic attacks must be His true Gabriel, his true messenger. So I should feel great, I should feel like God/Stress has taken a special interest in me, that I have been touched by the Devine. But if that is the case why do I feel like shit? Like my heart, throat and stomach are being choked by a chain link fence?

My mom tried to comfort me. My dad tried to comfort me. My councilor tried to comfort me. ‘It’ll all work out, you’ll pull though, it is just this day and age we live in, they expect too much of kids I tell you.’

Then how come my sisters snickered at my failure? How come almost all my classmates are going to some nice college somewhere? They live in This Day and Age too. My teachers know. My peers know. They all
tut-tutted and shook their heads at me and wouldn’t meet my eyes and gossiped about me quite literally behind my back. As if my ears stopped working, as if I’m a hobo, or worse, a foreigner.
The man who doesn't read good books has no advantage over the man who can't read them.

Go to heaven for the climate or hell for the company.

The clothes make the man, naked people have little or no effect on society.-Mark Twain




User avatar
Gender Male
Points 15698
Reviews 369
This is a very interesting piece of work.

The way you talk about God in various ways in the first four paragraphs is very interesting, but what does it do for the story? You do tie it in with the main purpose, which is to tell how you feel about the failings of your main character, but at times it seems to serve no purpose but to be pretty. And while that might do you good in an English course when you have to write a certain number of words, when you write like this it isn't as effective.

That being said, I'll turn around and say you need to add more. What hypocrisy is this? I just said you needed to take out things. But this is different. Why? You need to add solid things. Expound on why this particular character has so many problems. Does he have trouble learning? Is paying attention a problem for him? Whatever his reason may be, you need to allude to it. It cannot simply be, he's a failure just because he's a failure. There has to be some underlying reason.

And, on a personal note, so much negativity. While stress is a very negative emotion/state of mind, I would think you wouldn't need to harp on it as much. By the time we get to your organs being choked by a chain link fence I think the reader understands that. You may consider being more subtle. However, that's more of a personal thing on my part. Ultimately that is up to your discretion.

There were also a few spelling and grammatical errors that really stick out in a piece of work this size. But in spite of those this is a good idea with a lot of potential. You just need to rework some things to make it more appealing. I look forward to seeing a revision of this, as well as any other work you might have.

kudos:)
Garrus Vakarian is my homeboy.



Poetry is the art of creating imaginary gardens with real toads.
— Marianne Moore