I woke up around mid-afternoon to discover that an intense gloom had grown in my stomach like a vine while I slept. Its tendrils wrapped around my heart, and I could feel it intensifying with every beat. I tried to call on emotions, but the numbness I felt overpowered even my senses. I ate dinner with no pleasure, rather going through it like a bothersome ritual. No tastes registered on my tongue, as if everything I ate was one and the same. The colors around me were bland and dull, no matter the intensity. It seemed that my eyes were veiled with an invisible shroud of indifference. The people around me kept bustling about their own business, and I was aware of this only vaguely. Incoherent fragments of random thoughts bloomed within my consciousness.
I could hear people talking to me, but I replied mechanically with a voice I hardly recognized as my own. Nothing would sooth or even derail the sadness that metastasized like cancer all over my system. I felt it chewing away at the corners of my soul. Even the beautiful notes from my guitar that swirled around the room failed to touch me, and The Vampire Chronicles, which I so hungrily devour and immerse myself in, did nothing to improve my mood. Now this raised some fleeting concern, for those books never failed to enchant me, but I kept reading anyway, though without the morbid and dark enthusiasm with which I normally ploughed.
I had tried to think of other people who were in deeper anguish than I, and maybe this was a selfish practice, to look for sadness and depression in others. Yet again the numbness beat the guilt to my conscience, and I really didn’t care anymore if others somewhere in the world were experiencing hell. Though this was a sin, I did nothing to alleviate myself from it. This was my strongest suit, this armor of indifference, not kindness or patience, not love nor hope. I simply didn’t want people to get too near; for once they did I depended on their love and loyalty too much, and it destroys me when they drift away. The few friends I have established within these past few months know not how to handle me when I withdraw myself from the world and become a hermit. I do not depend on Them as I did the Others (let me refer to them as that from now on), and they could probably leave me and it wouldn’t pose a danger to my sanity, save one of them with whom I have established a link of familiarity.
As with me, I feared that I clung to that One too much now. The One’s independence was the thing that attracted me the most; it drew me in like bait. He (let me use he for it is the norm to do so, but let me say that in no way am I confirming his gender) showed the same indifference that I harboured, a weariness for society’s ways that I hadn’t seen in anybody else.
The little group I have formed around me consists of only a few, but there is one of them I truly disdain. Understand, I have come to a conclusion that this person is very much afraid of my anger and resentment, and even tries to shield her fear when it is so very evident in the way she acts towards me. I don’t like people who can’t fight for themselves, and so I dislike her. Why don’t I stay away from her, you ask? Well, think of a tripod, and all the legs are golden and glamorous except for one; which is made of cheap metals and smells of dirt. Much as you would like to get rid of it you can’t, for the tripod would be destroyed. So is my situation with her, for the people I want around me keep her around, and to drive her away would be to drive everybody away. Again, you must think I am a despicable person to say this, and maybe I am, but I still don’t feel any shame for my thoughts or actions. I fully claim my wickedness, though in no way do I enjoy this.
As I read through this as you do, my cherished reader, I realize that I have become intimate with you as I never have been with anybody else, not even the Others, and with this I have given you a peek into my soul. I truly hope that you will understand this: the writings of my hermit-self in full glory. Before I end this little narrative let me get something clear for your sake. I am not “emo”, which is what they call people who talk about gloom and everything else I have rambled about here that stereotypes me into that category. Misunderstood I am not, rather I think of myself as a little bit more eccentric and dark than your usual kind of city goth. I don’t dress in black; I don’t slash my wrists or inflict any kind of bodily harm on my self, none of that stupidity. I leave you now with the hope that I have drawn you in and haven't driven you away, and have left you with an inkling of what I am. And with that, I bid you adieu, my beautiful reader.
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125,018 Literary Works • 672,857 Reviews
I'm going to start right out by saying that this is not my style. This is not to say that i didn't like it - it just isn't the type of thing i normally read/write. (Just keep it in mind as i continue critiquing)
To start with, you have an awesome vocabulary. At times, however, i found it distracting. I almost felt like you were trying to impress the reader with complicated sentences and fancy words. To me, it sort of stopped the flow of things. Now i'm going to contradict myself and say that the word choice/sentence structure made a mysterious, deep, dark mood. Maybe you could look for a happy medium? Make the story smoother without sacrificing the mood?
I don't know if the last paragraph is totally necessary. (I'll explain!) The only reason i say this is because i hadn't really imagined the character to be emo or goth as i was reading it. It was a very relatable situation. Of course, i certainly can imagine him to fit the goth role once it was suggested, but i can also imagine it to be a peppy, happy school girl. It's the characters deepest feelings, and we don't know whether the outside reflects the inside or not.
Okay that's the biggest things i planned to critique. Nice job overall.
=)
Hello there. I don't believe we've met but then it would be presumptuous of me to expect to know every writer on this site. And you may wonder why I'm writing this when the general idea is to critique a story and move on. It's because you are right; in writing this you have revealed a piece of yourself to the reader. That is if you yourself are the persona but then I suppose it is quite narrow minded of me to automatically assume that. Anyway, I liked your story and I shall now fulfill the purpose for which I am here -
In general, I think the tone of this piece is very good. There's a great natural voice behind it that makes it flow smoothly and it is a piece we all can relate to written with great beauty. I think many of your analogies - especially that of the tripod - are clever, well thought out and portrayed in a manner that really gets the reader thinking.
You could make some improvements to this piece though. For example, your tense is a little out in places and you have a spelling mistake or two. Here's some suggestions -
I woke up around mid-afternoon to discover that an intense gloom [s]grew[/s] had grown in my stomach like a vine while I slept.
Incoherent fragments of random thoughts bloomed on [Maybe within would be smoother?] my consciousness.
I [s]can[/s] could hear people talking to me, but I replied mechanically with a voice I hardly recognized as my own.
Now this raised some fleeting concern, for those books never failed to enchant me, but I kept reading anyway, though without the morbid and dark enthusiasm with which I normally [s]plowed[/s] ploughed.
The few friends I have established within these past few months know nothing on how to handle me when I withdraw myself from the world and become a hermit in my own person. [I think this part could be worded better. Maybe '...within these past few months know not how to handle me when I withdraw myself...'.
and they could probably leave me and it wouldn’t [s]have become[/s] [color=red]pose a danger to my sanity, save one of them, with whom I have established [s]with[/s] a link of familiarity.
As [s]with[/s] for me, I feared that I clung to that One too much [s]now[/s].
He (let me use he for it is the norm [Perhaps put this in italics or maybe speech marks like you used for emo?] to do so, but let me say that in no way am I confirming his gender)showed [You need a space between the closing bracket and showed.] the same indifference that I [s]harbored[/s] harboured, a weariness for society’s ways that I hadn’t seen in anybody else.
The little group I have formed around me consisted of only a few, but there is one of them I truly disdain. [After this you move to present tense completely so instead of having half past and half present in this sentence, it would work better if you changed it to 'The little group I have formed around me consists of only a few, but there is one of them I truly disdain.']
As I read through this as you do, my cherished reader, I realize that I have become intimate with you as I never [s]had[/s] have been with anybody else, not even the Others, and with this I have given you a peek into my soul.
I don’t dress in black; I don’t slash my wrists or inflict any kind of bodily harm on [s]my self[/s] myself, none of that stupidity.
I leave you now with the hope that I have not bored you to tears, and have left you with an inkling of what I am. [I'm not sure about bored to tears. It's overly used in my opinion. Also, why 'what I am' instead of who I am? I'm not saying that the latter is betetr or that there's even anything wrong with the former but I'm curious.]
Other than that, the piece is very well written, practically flawless in fact. Great job and I hope you find some of my suggestions helpful,
Heather xx