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 |  Subject: 3) Mark Frenzy vs. Anthony Dawkins Mon Nov 04, 2013 5:22 pm | |
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JOKER
TeamJoker
Posts : 1189
Join date : 2013-07-21
Age : 34
| | Subject: Re: 3) Mark Frenzy vs. Anthony Dawkins Fri Nov 15, 2013 10:09 pm | |
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"You ever wake up and feel like you are on auto pilot? "
Anthony is standing at a sink, with shaving cream on his face. It has to be a public bathroom. Aside from the feeling that the room is larger than we can see, the lighting is dim. Almost like the dull orange standby lights that remain on even when the regular lights are off. Why would a man be shaving in the dark anyways?
"I don't mean that you feel like you are going through the motions. It isn't that you just don't care about the menial activity that you are doing. What I mean is real auto pilot. Being a passenger inside your own brain. You can see. You can hear. Other than that it just feels like you are along for the ride. Your body moves on instinct and you can't stop yourself from doing things over and over again for no reason other than to do it."
He brings the razor up to the left side of his face, and drags it across his skin. The foam is pulled from his face and builds at the base of the razor's blades. Anthony brings it down, and shakes off the mess into the sink of water before him.
"What I am talking about is standing on front of a mirror and knowing that the person looking back at you is not yourself. Not in the melodramatic sense, but in a realistic one. You can see the other person looking back at you with a dick smile on their face. They know that you are watching. They know that you can't do anything to stop it from happening."
Again he raises the razor, this time to the opposite side of his face. He drags it down the center of his cheek.
"The panic sets in that this person might not be all there. They are home, but the lights aren't on. They are behind the wheel at midnight, but the headlights are off. This person is taking you on their little joy ride, and you are helpless to say otherwise."
Anthony shakes the razor off again, but pauses before bringing it back to his face. He brings his free hand up to the head of the razor, and grips the top part of it with his thumb and forefinger. With little effort, he rips off the top plastic, exposing the blades.
"Maybe you are sharing your own head with a lunatic, or maybe it is all just a bad dream."
He now breaks off the side piece of plastic. The blades are all now hanging from the left side, but are lodged from their original locations. Instead of aligning in a neat row, they are dangling all at different angles.
"Regardless, that face haunts you. You know that there is something boiling just beneath your skin. Something is there and it wants out."
Anthony grips the top blade with the same two fingers, and rips it off the head of the razor. Blood flows from where the blade catches him across the inside of his top knuckle, but he doesn't even seem to notice it.
"Be careful what you do with the realization that it is there. You wouldnt want to make it angry, would you?"
He reaches out and snaps off the second blade, this time with his thumb and middle finger. The result is a similar cut across the inside knuckle of his middle finger.
"Who knows the horrors that you could end up being a innocent bystander to? You're at its mercy. He is really the one pulling the strings. Maybe during your waking hours, he feels the same way."
Now comes the third. The ring finger suffers the same fate as the other two. There is now a free flow of blood down his fingers, through the palm of his hand, and done to his wrist.
"What if you were the strong personality that is just along for the ride during your boring life? Would it not make you an angry person, if left to deal with being powerless for the better part of your everyday life? Just being forced to watch from the passenger seat instead of being able to get behind the wheel."
He drops the razor and looks at his bloodied hand.
"Would you not long to reach out and touch something once you had the chance?"
Anthony reaches forward to the mirror in front of him. His fingers press the against the glass right where the image of himself is reflected. He tracks his hand down, drawing three streaks of blood down the mirror, across where his face is shown. He looks into the eyes of the person he sees there. They are not his own.
"Would you not feel the urge to lash out against the boredom?"
Anthony throws his free hand forward and strikes the glass right across his reflected nose. The cracks swirl from the point of impact, outward, cracking across the entirety of his face..
"Think about it next time you look on the mirror. You never know what is looking back at you. You might not see it. Rest assured that it sees you."
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