This story was written on April 1, 2017, being completed at 5:39 pm, a little less than two hours after I had created the page for The Big Book of Very Important Things. Indeed, this story conceptually existed before I created The Big Book of Very Important Things, but it was not written until after that was a thing. It is one of four chapters in this story to be written after I created the page.
This is the deleted scene of The Man Who Blue Himself, a story written by TUN. Unfortunately since TUN left DBF, his story is no longer on the site. But anyways, in that story, at some point, General Blue performs autofellatio, and TUN had me write that scene. This story is that scene in its entirety. It makes references to Blue's first name being Klaus (it is Lukas in my universe), and other references to characters and whatnot in TUN's story.
However, a good deal of my own personal experiences are embedded in this story. The first time I ever sucked my own dick was in 6th grade, so the surreal terror of that was flavored with Klaus' characterization up to that point in TUN's story. He's not really broken, but his determination is highly internalized, and highly concentrated on certain areas that he can still control, such as sexual release.
I won't say this is a serious story, and I won't say it's a comedy. It was slightly based on two poems: [in Just-] and The Waste Land. The Waste Land again becomes a major inspiration for the last chapter of Dragon Ball Supper, but we'll get to that in a few anthologies from now. This story's scheme was more experimental, but it is one of two stories (the other being Dragon Ball Supper) that I actually care about in this collection.
When I was in sixth grade,colored a pic of hindu god rumoosh. saw of myself in the mimrror and i could see how i could strech out. this the day I called myself lukas blu
klaus tore the postcard and threw it in the bin. a tosser
arsenal were reamin chelsea on the tele
when my friend, the Earl, said to me. "the union bonesetter cancelled afternoon tea"
and nothing, the pain of nothing
if a coward dies a thousand times
there's a graveyard in my head
O O O
if we could go to the water, in the water,
drinking of the spring, the stone floor never dry
the ghost gave answer, under a snore or three,
and the ragged tomcat, little Orange, yowling in the dark.
n he wished he didnt have a camera
the mattresses should have been tossed three months ago, the baker's boy had told him.
but I smell their blood
For Klaus to stretch, to become ol st. sebastian
circle ring ring triangle square
Slow to process and quick to unwind the spine
curling and uncurling again.
Hating filth, never clean, the imprint of toes on the ceiling
and he swayed, nyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaak
---------------the balloonman came round again,
-----------------------d a n c i n g
in the -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------rain.
A bright light,
---pumping ---with his
A raccoon on the windowsill.
black--------------- in just, slow down
s o u n d l e s s----------- w o r k i n g--- w o r m i n g
Dirt in the ceiling - ----------moonlight over---------------round the back
Klaus uncurled------------------- jumped out of bed
to let the tomcat out the
- The opening quote sets the scene of my own experience.
- Notice the "O O O" here, in line with what Eliot wrote. Instead, I use "oh oh oh oh oh" for the scene in Dragon Ball Supper that references this part of The Waste Land.
- The coward quote is a Radical Face quote, and one of my favorites.
- My orange yowler is named Little Dexter, and he's a great cat, but he's an annoying bitch too.
- Sometimes I wish I didn't have a camera.
- The process of curling and uncurling the spine was always the trickiest part for me, as flexibility is often key in these scenarios.
- Footprints on the ceiling is something I never thought I'd learn about firsthand.
- Tereu is such a fantastic word.
- The poem only gets like [in Just-] when Klaus starts succin. I wanted his sexual excitement to somehow affect the poem, and in a way, it shatters it, fragments it, focuses it on the most specific, yet blunt descriptions, and also shows how Klaus is looking this way and that, his mind wandering even in a moment like this (it could be paranoia) - such as when he spotted the raccoon on the windowsill.
- The part that begins with "It's midnight and..." is the moment after his orgasm. This is an important moment, but I didn't want to happen in the words - it occurs between lines, between the words, suddenly, powerfully, but it does not last. The fleeting euphoria of what Klaus is doing, compared to everything else that is brought out, is a nice contrast. Also not mentioned is that your back can get sore for a day or two after if you were really straining hard, so yeah, that could be relevant.
- The last line is rather sly, of course, perhaps too cheeky in how it goes about it, but one must remember that there's nothing worse than a cat meowing incessantly in the deep of night, and if you were Klaus, fully spent and such, you'd let him out too.
This is one of two stories in The Big Book of Very Important Things that I think has actual quality to it, so woohoo, I got to pat myself on the back again. Great job!
<---- Part 119.6
Part 119.8 ---->