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Cafesin
Posts: 77
Registered: ‎01-27-2007
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Disconnected. It's new, and the beginning. Would love some feedback...!

DISCONNECTED
Chapter One

10/30/92- 6:35 a.m.
Nothing lives on when we die.
There is no such thing as a soul.
At death our energy simply disperses, back into that which is all.


What makes us unique- different from one another, is simply our combination of chemistry, which begins at conception and ends at death.


Awareness- pleasure, pain, love, lonely is only in play while physical.


When we die, our chemistry evaporates, our bodies decompose, the atoms that remain scatter, and we are no more.


And somehow, there is peace in that.


**********

3:40 p.m. (same day)

I sat cross-legged on my bed, too tired to cry anymore, staring at the gun. Twenty-five dollars on the corner of Van Nuys and Oxnard. Same price as the eighth of Mexican weed I was in search of. The gun turned out to be easier to come by. I toyed with it a while, ran my fingers down the short barrel, then back up again, felt for the trigger, slightly squeezed, then I put it down in front of me so the barrel face stared at me. I always thought I would do it with carbon monoxide poisoning. You know, go in the garage, get in my car and turn on the ignition. Just go to sleep and never wake up, as long as some **bleep** didn’t come along and open the garage door before I was dead.

This new opportunity presented itself an hour ago outside the recording studio just as I was leaving. Some black guy across the street in front of the mortuary was selling handguns out of his backpack to a car full of Latinos. There was no great flash of insight as I stood there watching the deal go down, only a moments consideration until their car pulled away. Then I crossed the street and connected.

A gun was fast and simple. I mean, slowly suffocating in a car for god knows how long, I might just have time to change my mind. I didn’t want to change my mind. I was so goddamn tired of living, of wishing, of wanting. I was so goddamn sick of lonely. Between getting high or getting dead to shut down there didn't seem that much difference. I lit a cigarette and tried to pretend it was a joint but my brain wouldn’t play. It probably wouldn’t have mattered- weed didn’t seem to be working anymore anyway.

The phone rang. I just stared at it. There was no point in talking to anyone. If it were Frankie or Jon they would probably ask me what was going on. And I would probably tell them. I couldn’t make something up quickly right then. My mind wasn't processing at its usual manic rate. Fragments of ideas popped into my head and then drift away to dead space. I felt so tired. The phones ring was jarring. Go away! People could be such a bother. Who was it that said they loved humanity- it was people they couldn’t stand? I think it was Snoopy.

My answering machine finally picked it up. No message. They hung up. A minute later it rang again. Machine picked it up again. They hang up again. Another minute and the phone rang again.

I grabbed it. “What!?”

“Hi.” Lee practically stammered. “I'm back. Why didn't you pick up? What's going on?”

“Nothing. What do you want?”

“Nothing.” He was defensive. “You left 3 messages on my machine. I'm calling you back. I just walked in the door 5 minutes ago or I would have gotten back to you sooner. What's going on?”

“I was looking to score but I don't want to anymore.”

“You’re out already? You went through that entire eighth I got you before I left for Vegas?”

“Yes Mom. And thanks for caring. I’m going to hang up now.”

“Yeah, okay.” He ignored my snide remarks. “I’ll stop by Carl’s and pick some up. I should be there in 20 minutes. Oh, and I can’t wait to tell you about the great place I found about five miles south of the Strip in that new development where my dad liv-”

“No. Don't come.” I picked up the gun again and rubbed the barrel against my cheek. It felt cool. “I don’t want to get high. I don’t want to hang out.”

“Why don't you want me to come over?”

I didn’t want to tell the truth and I couldn’t think of anything to say, so I didn’t say anything. I forget I was holding the phone with my other hand until he spoke again.

“Are you mad at me?”

“No Lee. Not everything is about you. Go figure.”

“What’s going on then? You sound really weird.”

“I’m tired…Sick and tired of being- sad.” I reminded myself to breathe, inhaled slowly and exhaled sharply. “Look Lee, we have nothing to say to each other anymore-”

“Is this about us breaking up? I mean, I thought we were past all that. Let’s not forget how many times we tried to be together and why we’re not anymore.”

“God, you are an arrogant son of a bitch.”

“Maybe, but isn’t that one of the few things you actually loved about me?” I sensed his mocking grin. He sounded so happy.

“Until I found out it was all a put on and there wasn’t anything supporting your bloated self-image.”

“Right back at ya, sweetie.”

“Bye Lee.”

“NO! Don’t hang up!”

“Why not?” I felt way beyond tired. Distant. Disconnected.

“Because I’m your friend. I care about you.”

“Right. Whatever.” **bleep**. “I don’t want to talk anymore. Let’s just say goodbye.”

“Look Rachel, I don’t know what is going on here. You sound really upset. I’m coming over, whether you want me to or not. I’ll be at your house in a few minutes and we can talk. OK?”

“No. You’re not listening to me. Don’t come–” I heard a click.

“I have another call. Hang on. Don’t hang up!” He put me on hold to take the other call. I hate call waiting. I fiddled with the gun. It was really light. I tapped it with my fingernail. Plastic handle. Figures. No quality in craftsmanship anymore. I hung up the phone. Jerk. I checked the chamber. Only 3 bullets. That's all the guy would give me when I bought it. I guess it only takes one anyway, like he said. I put the gun in my mouth, just testing. The dirty barrel filled my mouth with metallic grime.

The phone rang. I knew it was Lee. I let the machine pick it up. He hung up. No message. I knew he was on his way. It was now or never. I looked around the room. Nothing of value I was leaving behind. I looked out the window. My dog was running around the yard chasing a squirrel. Bolt lightening with fluid grace. Out of all of the things in my life, my only regret was leaving her. I knew my family would take care of her though, so I wasn't feeling overly concerned for her welfare without me. And being as linear as she is, she’d probably never miss me. Nor would anyone else.

No time to leave a note. **bleep** 'em. Let them figure it out for themselves. There was only a handful of people who would give a **bleep** anyway and after a while they’d get over it. It was hard to breathe. The weight on my head was crushing my brain. And right about then I stopped thinking. I angled the gun so it pointed towards my brain and fingered it until I found the trigger. Every microscopic movement of my fingers registering in my head, but it felt unreal, like it was happening to someone else and I was just watching. Or like I was playing a game and even if I pulled the trigger and the bullet ripped the back of my skull out, it would only be temporary, like in a dream or cartoon, and after, I would get up, go into the kitchen and get a Diet Coke while I tried to figure out what to do with the rest of my evening. I squeezed the trigger very slowly. I could barely hear my intuition screaming at me to stop, but I didn’t. I never listened to my intuition anymore anyway, why start now…



**********


10/27/91

Intuition is like a flash of light. In that instant of pure white, all understanding is present. The whole idea. Complete.


But the vision only lasts an instant. And only fragments of the complete idea remain, in the form of feelings. And the feelings talk to the brain. And the brain begins the [sometimes lifelong] process of defining the feelings generated by intuition.


Intuition is never wrong.


If you're lucky, the brain will generate answers that clearly define the feelings, thus confirming your intuition.


If you're not so lucky, your brain will resist the process of definition by intellectualizing, try to bury the feelings, and you will eventually learn to mistrust your intuition.


But intuition is never wrong.


When you choose the second route, you're basically **bleep**ing yourself.


**********


I wasn’t listening to my intuition when I got involved with Lee, one year earlier, almost to the day. We met for the first time on Halloween, 1991, at Jerry’s Deli in Studio City. I picked Jerry’s for most of my blind dates because it was always crowded and fed into the illusion of safety. The place is famous for its pickles and pastrami, and the Hollywood types- actors, producers and the like that hang out there. A few tour buses even stop there to give the mid-westerners a thrill.

To be honest, I didn’t exactly meet Lee at Jerry’s. Not technically anyway. I met him through a personal ad I ran in the Daily News. L.A. in the 90’s- everyone was doing it. On the phone with him two days earlier, Lee didn’t impress me very much. I’d already spoken with over 20 different men who had responded to the ad and they all sounded like they were reading from the same script. How stable they were. How fun and happy and active their lives were. How much they loved their careers. What great friends they still were with their X’s. If their lives were so fulfilled then why the hell were they answering personnel ads to 900 numbers at $5 a pop? Personally, I was lonely. Really lonely. And lonely is my nemesis.
ABI
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ABI
Posts: 2,577
Registered: ‎07-19-2007
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Re: Disconnected. It's new, and the beginning. Would love some feedback...!

Cafesin, I don't have time to comment right now, but I'll return. Just want say that you have some honest talent here. This is exactly the kind of writing I read, and (attempt, mind) write. It's perfectly dry. I can promise you that if you ever publish, I'll buy. again, i'll post more later. :smileyhappy:
"There is nothing easier than self-deceit."
"Bombing for peace is like f***ing for virginity"
"There is no such thing as death, only the absence of life."
"There is no end, unless you let it."
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Dezdura
Posts: 62
Registered: ‎08-23-2007
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Re: Disconnected. It's new, and the beginning. Would love some feedback...!

I'm not totally into books about "nothing, just some suicidal person" they have to be about more than that. I have a character in a book who is "practicing for suicide." A friend thought it was "comic relief" as in-- this is funny stuff. I thought it was perfectly serious. Is this a romance novel? I have never read one, so it must be. It is very odd. I think you do have a good sense of dialogue.It would be great if your heroine actually could like herself and stop judging herself through everyone else's lens (at the end of course).
ABI
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ABI
Posts: 2,577
Registered: ‎07-19-2007
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Re: Disconnected. It's new, and the beginning. Would love some feedback...!

first of all, I honestly wouldn't make it a romance novel. You might include some sex, but it would be more or less consolation...perhaps. Romance is fine, it's just...you could stretch farther, I think, into the realm of the unknown genres...sorry, I'm just musing. I'm just not an utter fan of novels centered completely around romance, or any one subject really.


Second, Dezdura was right, good dialogue. But, really, there's no such thing as "just some suicidal person." Unless you make her that. Give her something more, if you understand me. Her character should develop over time into something unexpected...

I liked the detail you go into about the gun. It's completely obvious, yet not at the same time.

Is this chapter one? Or a prologue to the other? A substitute?
"There is nothing easier than self-deceit."
"Bombing for peace is like f***ing for virginity"
"There is no such thing as death, only the absence of life."
"There is no end, unless you let it."
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mrsronaldweasley
Posts: 3,373
Registered: ‎07-26-2007
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Re: Disconnected. It's new, and the beginning. Would love some feedback...!

[ Edited ]
Question: have you ever felt suicidal at least once in your life? I like your theme. =) but I have to read it first ok?=) more posst to come

Message Edited by mrsronaldweasley on 10-03-2007 08:34 AM
o’~aNd I'm So Sad, LikE a GoOd BooK, I caN't PuT tHis Day BacK~’o
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mrsronaldweasley
Posts: 3,373
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Re: Disconnected. It's new, and the beginning. Would love some feedback...!

here you go cafe:
Please change the title , I think…
I thought your story was really good although you might want to add a few more details..
It would be more interesting to see what’s going on in the girl’s head …
What drives a person to be suicidal?
Is it just sadness or being tired with everybody else?
This is a good first chapter
Second I’d like to learn more about her surroundings and what else happened to her..
Is she crazy?
If she’s overdosed with drugs I would certainly understand why she’s being like that..
And you know what…I don’t know about you but I always like to read about physical appearances … if a person is suicidal to the point that all she has to do is to point and shoot what happens? Is she shaking with fear ? Is cold sweat trickling down her face ?I know that she’s just spacing out- not giving a care about anyone anymore… but more details would make it better.

Mind you , I actually like it as it is already=)
These are just things that would appeal MORE to my taste. Will you do an edited one? I haven’t read anything here that was edited for the reader’s benefit so far—(haven’t read all threads )
o’~aNd I'm So Sad, LikE a GoOd BooK, I caN't PuT tHis Day BacK~’o
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Cafesin
Posts: 77
Registered: ‎01-27-2007
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Re: Disconnected. It's new, and the beginning. Would love some feedback...!

Dezdura,
did you like it?
jc
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Krista1217
Posts: 3
Registered: ‎10-25-2007
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Re: Disconnected. It's new, and the beginning. Would love some feedback...!

I'm new on this site and this is only my second posting, but your comment on another thread intrigued me so I thought I would check out your story. I found the beginning of your story to be slightly familiar to some real things that have happened in my life. You write almost as if you know what it feels like to be really suicidal. I'm wondering if you've ever REALLY felt that way? This post is coming from a person who has actually experienced suicidal feelings and has actually attempted it quite a few times. Please don't think I'm some kind of nutcase though. I'm not. I was just at a really bad point in my life and was experiencing severe clinical depression combined with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I Thank God for a wonderful therapist, the right medication and a family that wouldn't give up on me no matter what I did. It took a long time, but I'm doing great now!

I diverse. Back to your story. I really disagree with how your character feels about the end of life, but that doesn't mean I can't connect to her other feelings. The "I'm tired of life, I don't care what happens, someone else will take care of my dog kind of feelings," you express are actually very true to life. When I felt that way, things that should have caused emotions didn't; but the objects in the room around me suddenly became clearer. The ticking of a nearby clock would irritate me to no end. I also found myself thinking totally irrational things like: I don't want to die without makeup on, who is going to find my body and get stuck cleaning up the mess if I leave one, and at one point I even worried that someone who actually loved me would find me and I would destroy THEIR life forever. I actually think you have the beginnings of what could be a very good story and I'm interested enough in it that I wrote down The Title and your name. I hope I get a chance to read the rest of it. Is it a romance? I'd really like to know more about this story. If you read my feedback, please leave me a message. I'm a writer too, and I would like to write fictional material but so far all I've managed to accomplish is to tell my own story and I haven't tried to get it published yet. I'm not sure I'm ready for my family to see the things I was really thinking, feeling and doing in my life at that point in time. I've always thought I'd like to be an editor. Just reading the beginning of your story added to that feeling. I hope your book has a happy ending. Isn't that what we all want after all??? Thanks for sharing it with us.
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tigerlilly
Posts: 1,791
Registered: ‎10-16-2007
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Re: Disconnected. It's new, and the beginning. Would love some feedback...!

[ Edited ]
I love that first little bit about one view about what happens after death, that is nothing. I think it is a view of death that is not often shared because it is so...hard to think about it like that. But that is why it interests me. I love your writing style. Very candid and sincere. I didn't get the romance novel vibe like others did, so I really hope it is not a romance novel. I think this is a very good first chapter because it introduces, but also plants small questions in my mind that I would expect to be answered throughout the book.



cafesin wrote:


DISCONNECTED
Chapter One

10/30/92- 6:35 a.m.
Nothing lives on when we die.
There is no such thing as a soul.
At death our energy simply disperses, back into that which is all.


What makes us unique- different from one another, is simply our combination of chemistry, which begins at conception and ends at death.


Awareness- pleasure, pain, love, lonely is only in play while physical.


When we die, our chemistry evaporates, our bodies decompose, the atoms that remain scatter, and we are no more.


And somehow, there is peace in that.

Message Edited by tigerlilly on 10-26-2007 07:37 PM
"Who's that little old man?
PAUL'S GRANDFATHER!"
ABI
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ABI
Posts: 2,577
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Re: Disconnected. It's new, and the beginning. Would love some feedback...!



Cafesin wrote:
Dezdura,
did you like it?
jc


I find it so utterly amusing, how much respect Dezdura gets around here. She tells the truth. She deserves respect.

you see, dezdura? Come back, we all need you in the end. :smileyhappy:
"There is nothing easier than self-deceit."
"Bombing for peace is like f***ing for virginity"
"There is no such thing as death, only the absence of life."
"There is no end, unless you let it."
Frequent Contributor
Cafesin
Posts: 77
Registered: ‎01-27-2007
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Re: Disconnected. It's new, and the beginning. Would love some feedback...!

ABI, I have no idea who dezdura is. I asked because I was unclear about her feedback.

Krista1217, I think about death obsessively. I always have. Don't know why. I don't think it's uncommon, so try not to get too freaked out by thinking suicidal thoughts. The thing is, I don't believe it's what we think about that define us. I think it's what we DO, that does. Death is forever. And it's coming, no matter what. Whether you believe heaven awaits or nothingness, death is surely going to happen. Why push it? If nothing else, being alive you get to feel. It's perhaps life's greatest gift. Let yourself feel for as long as possible. And the beauty of feelings is they change. Feeling bad won't last forever. I promise. There will be moments of good, of feeling good. And in those moments, well, living is it's own answer.

Good luck...And remember, think what you want, just be careful what you do.

JC