axel's no good very bad beach day
Aug 25, 2022 1:31:31 GMT -5
Post by tick 12a / calla on Aug 25, 2022 1:31:31 GMT -5
( 91st )
A X E L
M O R R I S E N
A X E L
M O R R I S E N
Never fall for a brunette, I guess.
There's a pinwheel superglued to the back of my skull, puttering around and around wind-mill style, the motor's running but there's no one home. The horizon's purple, dark like a bruise because the sun isn't all the way up yet, it's shy. A blushing bride or something.
Aleki said I should move to the Capitol. It'd make all the press and the events easier. Apparently there's a role in a new movie she wants me to try for, something about a snake and a sword, and I told her I'd think about it but I'm already thinking about saying no. I don't think I'd survive there. Not for real. There's just something about the buildings and the concrete and the cameras on every corner, on every face, on every stage.
I stood up on that stage and lost my marbles and the producers thought it was so great that they ferried me off to another show and replaced the marbles with a bunch of smaller more colourful marbles.
More palatable that way. People like it flashy. Aleki said I'm gonna be a superstar but I kinda just want those original marbles back.
I thought it'd be fun but after the first week there I just wanted to go home.
Sometimes my brain feels like a whirlpool. Marbles in a vortex. There's a long string of seaweed washed up on the shore and I poke it with a stick I don't remember picking up. For Solstice a few years ago we wrapped fresh seaweed around sticks like this and then stuck them over the fire and pretended like we were eating gourmet kelp delight from some fancy Capitol place.
After the show wrapped I went to a restaurant in Saturn City and they served little bits of crab wrapped in seaweed and gold flakes and it tasted fucking disgusting but everyone was acting like it was fine and okay and normal even though things weren't fine or okay or normal and I had to get up half way through and sit in the bathroom stall and stare at the lights until my eyes started to burn.
That's just how life is now.
I think Annisa tried to kill my goldfish while I was gone.
Carly's dead and the guy that killed her might win tomorrow and he'll have to come to Four and smile at Annie and shake her hand and I'll just have to be okay with that. In the span of a year I've had to become okay with a lot of things. I had to learn what an NDA is.
But it's not like we were a thing anyways. It's not like she was my dream girl because according to the self-reflective book that was in the waiting room of the dentist's office, those don't really exist.
Maybe none of us really exist. Maybe the world doesn't exist. When some guy's got his hands in your mouth everything gets a little more existential.
The tide takes the seaweed back.
Wolf's lucky because he's not a brunette. He's got that candy floss hair. Or maybe he doesn't anymore. I dunno. It's not like anyone kept in touch after Young Love ended. I guess getting older sometimes means that your friends are actually just acquaintances because it's too hard to keep up any kind of relationship beyond that. I'll miss you becomes I'll call you becomes sorry I missed your call becomes call me back becomes dial tone, nada, nothing.
Annie said that Talon's my age. We might become friends. Could. Maybe. Probably not though, because I'm not a victor, no matter how much production wanted me to be, I live in the right house but my blood's a different colour - more Axel than Morrisen, more screw-up than son. I'm the screw and they wanted a nail because they're the hammer and you don't hammer in screws but you do hammer in nails.
I'm the kid with the pies and the kazoo and people thought that was cute in the same way they think a puppy cute. But then the puppy grows up and it sits on the beach by itself and spirals and worries about the moral ramifications of eating seaweed. It starts asking questions and getting weird and its brain skips circles around a park bench and starts to cannibalize itself.
I'm stuck here reading the shit written in the sand, my shadow's the shape of unicycle, fan-favourite except I've never been anybody's favourite. Everyone that hates Annie just seems to hate me a little bit more.
Thanks for that one, dad.
Anton used to tell me I was adopted because he was an asshole and Annisa used to tell me that was bullshit, because it meant that out of all the kids out there, I was the one that got picked, and that was laughable.
That's not where it starts, but that's for sure where it gets worse. I don't know why I am the way I am. I don't think any of us do. Maybe I'll go back to school and become a philosopher and then I'll be able to figure it out and everything will be fine. Maybe I'll be able to figure it out and then things still won't be fine. Maybe I'll never figure it out.
Maybe I'm just a stupid piece of seaweed who had a crush on a girl that's dead now.
Kinda pathetic.
There's a pinwheel superglued to the back of my skull, puttering around and around wind-mill style, the motor's running but there's no one home. The horizon's purple, dark like a bruise because the sun isn't all the way up yet, it's shy. A blushing bride or something.
Aleki said I should move to the Capitol. It'd make all the press and the events easier. Apparently there's a role in a new movie she wants me to try for, something about a snake and a sword, and I told her I'd think about it but I'm already thinking about saying no. I don't think I'd survive there. Not for real. There's just something about the buildings and the concrete and the cameras on every corner, on every face, on every stage.
I stood up on that stage and lost my marbles and the producers thought it was so great that they ferried me off to another show and replaced the marbles with a bunch of smaller more colourful marbles.
More palatable that way. People like it flashy. Aleki said I'm gonna be a superstar but I kinda just want those original marbles back.
I thought it'd be fun but after the first week there I just wanted to go home.
Sometimes my brain feels like a whirlpool. Marbles in a vortex. There's a long string of seaweed washed up on the shore and I poke it with a stick I don't remember picking up. For Solstice a few years ago we wrapped fresh seaweed around sticks like this and then stuck them over the fire and pretended like we were eating gourmet kelp delight from some fancy Capitol place.
After the show wrapped I went to a restaurant in Saturn City and they served little bits of crab wrapped in seaweed and gold flakes and it tasted fucking disgusting but everyone was acting like it was fine and okay and normal even though things weren't fine or okay or normal and I had to get up half way through and sit in the bathroom stall and stare at the lights until my eyes started to burn.
That's just how life is now.
I think Annisa tried to kill my goldfish while I was gone.
Carly's dead and the guy that killed her might win tomorrow and he'll have to come to Four and smile at Annie and shake her hand and I'll just have to be okay with that. In the span of a year I've had to become okay with a lot of things. I had to learn what an NDA is.
But it's not like we were a thing anyways. It's not like she was my dream girl because according to the self-reflective book that was in the waiting room of the dentist's office, those don't really exist.
Maybe none of us really exist. Maybe the world doesn't exist. When some guy's got his hands in your mouth everything gets a little more existential.
The tide takes the seaweed back.
Wolf's lucky because he's not a brunette. He's got that candy floss hair. Or maybe he doesn't anymore. I dunno. It's not like anyone kept in touch after Young Love ended. I guess getting older sometimes means that your friends are actually just acquaintances because it's too hard to keep up any kind of relationship beyond that. I'll miss you becomes I'll call you becomes sorry I missed your call becomes call me back becomes dial tone, nada, nothing.
Annie said that Talon's my age. We might become friends. Could. Maybe. Probably not though, because I'm not a victor, no matter how much production wanted me to be, I live in the right house but my blood's a different colour - more Axel than Morrisen, more screw-up than son. I'm the screw and they wanted a nail because they're the hammer and you don't hammer in screws but you do hammer in nails.
I'm the kid with the pies and the kazoo and people thought that was cute in the same way they think a puppy cute. But then the puppy grows up and it sits on the beach by itself and spirals and worries about the moral ramifications of eating seaweed. It starts asking questions and getting weird and its brain skips circles around a park bench and starts to cannibalize itself.
I'm stuck here reading the shit written in the sand, my shadow's the shape of unicycle, fan-favourite except I've never been anybody's favourite. Everyone that hates Annie just seems to hate me a little bit more.
Thanks for that one, dad.
Anton used to tell me I was adopted because he was an asshole and Annisa used to tell me that was bullshit, because it meant that out of all the kids out there, I was the one that got picked, and that was laughable.
That's not where it starts, but that's for sure where it gets worse. I don't know why I am the way I am. I don't think any of us do. Maybe I'll go back to school and become a philosopher and then I'll be able to figure it out and everything will be fine. Maybe I'll be able to figure it out and then things still won't be fine. Maybe I'll never figure it out.
Maybe I'm just a stupid piece of seaweed who had a crush on a girl that's dead now.
Kinda pathetic.
