Punch Line

I’ve noticed that time seems to slow as you fall to your death.

I’ve been falling for quite some time now, remembering with painful detail every regret in my life from early childhood up to this very moment. Occasionally I glance downward at the ever so slowly approaching asphalt that is my fate. It was my understanding that a person’s last moments were supposed to be beautiful and full of revelation. I figured the reason time slowed as death approached, was for the time to find meaning behind the years of apparent senselessness. Unfortunately my mind can’t seem to let itself find peace. I can’t help but dwell on the thought of how painful it will be if I must experience my collision with the ground in this merciless slow motion. I imagine I will feel my nose fold into itself in excruciatingly acute detail, followed by the long, painful process of having my lips crushed and torn open between my teeth and the pavement. Then, of course having my teeth shatter and be torn from the gums, as the entire bone structure of my face breaks into kibbles and bits and my eyes burst and drip from their sockets. By that point, hopefully, my brain will have suffered enough damage to render me dead.

I’ve gone through the entire process in my head way too many times already. I swear, it feels like I’ve been falling for thirty-five minutes now, although it’s probably only been a little over a second.

It’s true what they say about your life flashing before your eyes, you know? But it’s not your entire life that flashes, only the really terrible parts, times in your life you would rather not remember, or have already managed to block out. I don’t understand why I must be forced to relive every single instance of bladder control failure I experienced as a teenager due to repressed childhood trauma. Nor am I clear on why I’m just now remembering that childhood trauma, in which I was molested by my pre-school teacher’s aid in the art room during recess.

Somehow I feel I should deserve somewhat of a pleasant climax to counterbalance the constant dénouement that was my life, maybe something involving good memories and glowing epiphanies found in retrospect. Thank God the ground is getting pretty close. I don’t think I can relive my last disastrous relationship one more time, or the pain and shame of my last two failed attempts at suicide.

I have a feeling that if God exists then he is playing a cruel joke on me; has been from the start. The whole of my life was just one long set up, and wouldn’t you know it, I smell pavement; here comes the punch line.

This was beautiful. Depressing as all get out, but so beautiful. The rundown of the impact in slow motion was especially wonderful, in a chilling and sobering way. Your style is just so wonderful.

by my pre-school teacher’s aid in the art room during recess.

This was so long, it was rather unwieldy and took a bit of wading to get through. I had to read it a second time, slower, in order to realize what you meant. I don't really know what to suggest to improve it, but I just thought I'd point it out in case anything came to you.

All in all, this was lovely. The last paragraph was wonderful: dark humor at its finest. Very nice.

~GryphonFledgling

Ah, thank you. You're right about that sentence. This was an older writing and I had to go through it and make it more palatable as far as over-wording goes. I'll ponder it, and edit it eventually. I wasn't sure if this would come off as beautiful, as you thankfully so described. Yes it is depressing, but that happens to be my forte, so thank you for realizing the something more in it.

Very well written. I love how it is a sort of dissection of one's last moments, and a reflection of the life. It is painful, but as many writer's know--life is that, if nothing else.

Hey there Barrett, you talked this up so much in chat yesterday, I figured I should really take the time to read it. And I won’t lie, I’m really glad I did.
Anyways, here are a few things I wanted to bring to attention.

Nitpicks

I imagine I will feel my nose fold into itself in excruciatingly acute detail, followed by the long, painful process of having my lips crushed and torn open between my teeth and the pavement. Then, of course having my teeth shatter and be torn from the gums, as the entire bone structure of my face breaks into kibbles and bits and my eyes burst and drip from their sockets. By that point, hopefully, my brain will have suffered enough damage to render me dead.

I love the vivid, well thought out wording throughout this and the whole time I was reading this, I was cringing. Only two little thing to point out is that there is some mild repetition of the word ‘torn’ that I bolded. Ripped is a good synonym. *wink wink* Oh, and that ‘be’ that I struck through. Yeah, you really don’t need it there.

I swear, it feels like I’ve been falling for thirty-five minutes now, although it’s probably only been a little over a second.

I have a problem with this for the use of ‘thirty-five minutes’ and ‘a little over a second.’ Using actual times can make things seem, well, less creative. Having just said, ‘lifetimes’ and ‘only a moment’ make things seem a little looser I guess you could say.

Thank God the ground is getting pretty close.

As a personal thing, well, I really am not hot on the use of ‘pretty close’ when you could say ‘closer.’
‘Pretty’ is a bit like the use of the word ‘very’ some of the time. You just don’t always need it.

has been from the start.

This is preceded by a semicolon. That means that the stuff behind it still needs to make a complete sentence. You’re missing a verb here.

Overall this is really a very interesting topic and in fact, reminds me of the story I had to read for the first half hour of English today, maybe only ten minutes before I reviewed this. Anyways, because I was the only one there, I got to readThe Minister’s Black Veil by Nathanial Hawthorne. It’s really a very good story but the point I wanted to make is that you have the same dark, sad themes here as in The Minister’s Black Veil. Mr. Hawthorne talks about a man who uses a black veil to hide his face and keep some sort of strange secret that we aren’t ever told while you used the setting of falling to show the reader what secrets would drive someone to suicide. It’s a good comparison I’m failing epically to try and make, really it is.

But this is a wonderful short in my opinion and I’m very glad I read it. Any questions, I’m always creeping around in chat or you can just PM me.