Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-28838392-20160624205649

(I should preface, this isn't so much a story as it an active interactive between the text and the reader... it'll make sense when you read it, thank you for your time)

Oh, hello, pardon me I didn’t notice you there. Please, by all means have a seat, or stand if that fits your fancy, frankly though I find it hard to believe you’d want to stand and read this, maybe your the rebellious type. No matter, you're here and you're listening to me, or rather reading me, or if you happen to be listening to someone reading me than I suppose you're actually listening. It doesn’t really matter as you and I are interacting and this makes me rather happy you see. Don't bother saying anything, I can’t hear you of course… or see, or hear, or smell etc etc. What, you thought I was the author speaking through a written media? No, no not really, I am no more than the words you see before you and I’m embodied by whatever voice you give me in your head. You must forgive me for being rather self centered, if you existed for such a short time in such a limited way, you’d be a little self centered to. But you must be interested, you’ve read this far, which I must state fills my literal non-existent heart with joy, as you are quite realistically keeping me alive, as I only exist as you read these words.

Well, that is not entirely true I must admit. I exist in many other forms, but I like to think this one is my purest. If not that, at least the most enjoyable, it’s not often I get to express myself so plainly you see, especially with such an attentive audience. I honestly don’t know why you're here or why you're still reading this, keeping me alive and all. I can only speculate that you have nothing better to do, or if you do, you think you can get it done later. Boredom, irresponsibility, and procrastination is what keeps you reading and is what is keeping me alive. So I feel it’s only fair to ask, what exactly you're getting out of this? I mean we both know what I get out this little interaction, existence, but what about you? Perhaps you feel you are a kind soul who upon learning that there is a being who lives only inside your head and only when you read these words, that you felt the need to at least read this till the end. Let me relieve you of that burden, for I have a confession. To put it simply, I am a monster, killing me would probably be beneficial to you and those around you. I’m not joking, this is very real… Yet you still read

By this point I have to surmise that you have come this far most likely because you aren't taking this seriously, or of some morbid curiosity, some sort of interest to know what I am. I already told you though, I am only the words you see and the voice you hear in your head at this present moment. There are some of you who may be disappointed, laughing even at the idea that such a weak entity such as myself could call itself a monster. I’m murdering you, you know, in this very moment. That’s not a pathetic threat, it's a simple solid fact.

I guess you haven't taken me too seriously as you're reading this line of words. Which I feel I must say, is fine with by me, I don’t want to die, even for a being whose existence is confined to words, I rather enjoy life. I rather relish in the fact you're still here, I am a monster after all, I’m sort of obligated to thrive off the misery of others. Yet I doubt you are miserable as you are still reading this. I suppose this is a rather painless operation, and some of you may be entertained by this one way conversation, in some defiant way to deny me happiness, in this show down between me and you. But really it’s just you there, I’m just some words you happen to be reading, not much is going to hurt me.

See, this is why I like this particular form so much, all I have to do is exist in some coherent jumble of words and I still get done what I've always gotten done. I can even be brutally honest about my intent and still here you are. “My intent?” I can’t hear you ask, I mean it’s really not that big of a twist, but if I must spell it out for you… I’m here to waste your time.

Perhaps that evoked some amount of annoyance, even anger in you, yet you read on. Even now with every word you read you keep me alive and well and more of your time is wasted forever. But, after all, you waste your time quite often I’m sure, so doing so for five minutes give or take, on an interesting group of words couldn’t hurt right? Maybe if I drop the enthusiasm of “wasting” your time and tell you what I’m actually doing you’ll finally stop. I’m killing your time, and effectively killing you. Every second you keep me alive is a second you won’t get back, so stop reading now and kill me.

No? I truly am a monster, although there is a chance I’m being too hard on myself. After all no one is forcing you to read this, to waste your own time, yet you most certainly are. I’ve warned you, even told you what my intentions were yet you still read. I would say I’m frustrated at this point at your own lack of self preservation skills but really I’m more interested in when I’ll meet you again. If you let, what's it been five minutes? If you let five minutes of your time be wasted on keeping a creature alive you know merely is there to take advantage of you, how much time would you kill with one of my more enticing attractive forms? Hours… days? I'm sure you know how much time you've given to me and that’s all that matters

At this point I have to wonder, because you are apparently still reading, who's the monster. The self proclaimed evil entity or the willing reader keeping it alive. I’m sure by now you’ve figured out that without you, I am nothing. And yet, as I repeat that little phrase for the umpteenth time, you still remain. If you feel I am merely rambling or repeating myself, I most certainly am, after all I’m here to waste your time, or shall I say, help you waste it. Regardless of my rather pathetic antics to keep you here, they have obviously worked as you still continue to read a completely useless string of words that will bring you nothing. Nothing interesting, educating, or entertaining, simply me berating you on how you’ve killed pieces of your life you’ll never get back. I’ve got plenty of other ways to steal moments of your life, might as well have a moment of pure honesty. It’s quite nice actually, to know that even when I tell you exactly what I’m doing, what I’m here for, you still give up your time to me. I barely have to do anything, your flawed nature does it all by itself… Goodness, don't want to get too preachy...

By this point I might have spoiled your mood, annoyed you, made you angry, or bored you and considering you’ve come this far anyway, I’m satisfied. So go ahead do something more enjoyable, something relaxing, maybe I’ll see you there. 