Daedra Loves Dick

Daedra wants Dick

    Daedra is walking down the cold sidewalk with her four closest friends in the middle of the week.  They are all on their last year of college, ready to live in “the real world” as they call it.  But what they live resembles the television show more then they think.  Living with strangers, they call them roommates, just so they can get an education but taken in certain strides, partying and not taking school seriously would lead me to specifically call it a “lower” education. 

    They are all talking about their weekends and the boys they met, slept with or used, encircling Daedra to talking but she just walks as the other ones stand in front of her, pacing awkwardly trying to hard to block out the bystanders from their clique.  She didn’t want to tell them that life doesn’t necessarily change after college, and how they are actually in the reality, by definition, but providing nothing.  And if they truly didn’t think they were in reality, they could be sent away.  I don’t think pop cultural references really stand up in court. 
    She didn’t want to get all nihilistic on their toned asses so she just tried not to make any eye contact so she admired the different features on the sidewalks down State Street.  The cracks that were perfectly laid out, the flawed ones that had miscalculated cement slabs, the marble stone, the granite, the early cracks from a Coke Cola truck trying to pull up closer to a Mcdonald’s for convenience. 
    But at times it was harder to see around her groups leggings and pumps and the constant smoke coming from their cold breaths, so Daedra stared up into the glass that reflected the blue sky, while sun light clouds and the reflection of a reflection of the Sears Tower. 
    I guess her friend, Sarah, met some dude Rick who was thirty at a house party even though they are all old enough to go to bars and clubs but she didn’t want to spend money so she just fucked a married man.  Daedra heard the sound of spinning and slicing as she looked into a new start up restaurant chain that is called “Fruit Yo!” which was an Oriental designed, fruit buffet that plays old school hip hop.  A chef was spinning a watermelon with ease, cutting off the ends as it revolved and then he threw his knife in the air and it came down right through the middle.  She was surprised no one was  in such a trend setting environment.  It was right after New Years for Christ’s sake. 
    I guess her friend Stephanie was at the bar “Bash Full” and got a group of guys to buy her drinks and let the one who bought her the most Patron XO shots to finger blast her underneath the table.  The sulken fingers held tension against the beer stained stool but Stephanie’s face remained blank throughout the delicate, drunken performance of lip smacking.  But she left alone, waiting for marriage like the next sheltered suburban kid.  Daedra couldn’t possibly told her friends what she did last weekend.  She just sat around like most nights, watching endless amounts of netflix and changing her finger nail and toe nail polish until she formed cascading stripes, a rainbow of sorts, down her cuticles. 
    I guess her friend Stacy got invited to a date but she was to embarrassed to talk any further.  It was actually a business meeting because she’s preparing for her future but the other girls wouldn’t understand but I do.  Daedra had no job but her friends thought she worked at some firm.  She wasn’t even a good enough at lying to stage a fake name but her friends were blinded by their self-granted-importance that they never bothered to ask and she left the subject on the clothes line, waiting to dry. 
    She lives in the gold coast, paying 1600 a month for a studio apartment that she just charges to her Pearl Master Card.  Everything she does gets put on there.  The professional nail polish remover that she uses every morning before she goes out with her friends, her 60 inch 3-D capable television, rent, utility bills, but the credit card bill has never came.  She called the company, worried that she was going to get ganged banged on interest payments alone but they said it was all taken care of, the bills were all paid, that they were arriving at her address every second Tuesday of the month.
    At first she was terrorized, like any sane person would be, that maybe some creep was stalking her but just like the Stockholm syndrome, she began to blush that she had some secret admirer lusting over her with their bank account but, then, after a long, vaginally dry year, Daedra just became curious-less and let the gentlemen, or even maiden, do what ever they were doing she would remain silent.  Living for free isn’t so bad even when you have a degree in economics.
    She thought about getting a job but the only employer hiring are bars and her mother was a bartender her whole life.  It’s the hardest industry besides stripping and porn to get out of.  Straight cash, pay day is the same work day, but there’s no lateral movement except for the previously stated professions but she had respect for her body.  More respect then to make money off of it even though that is what hard labor is.  I guess it’s a battle over physical brute and physical beaut. 
    Yeah she could sleep with a stranger but at least a guy she had to talk to every day, paying her for drinks (leading him into a tunnel of alcoholism) and to check out her ass and tits every time she dropped something, or went to get a beer from the fridge, or just carelessly wanted to watch the football players asses through their thin shorts.  But I guess every job, for females that is, delves into this personal contradiction.  She thought she should just turn ugly, give up her good looks to better her life’s destiny in the long run.  Hot girls usually die young or our forgotten but fat, trainwrecks live long healthy lives because they actually eat real food.  They should just start making water with calories in it.
    So a job was out of the question.  She could possibly use her degree to obtain a job but what would she do with a degree in Economics?  She only got the damn major because she heard it was trending.  Or she just heard so much about it.  She didn’t hear it in context.  “The economy is plunging.”  She thought the education would turn her into a person with marketable skills that would get out of college and start making six figures, easily, but the education just turned her into someone she wasn’t and that was someone Daedra didn’t particularly enjoy to be around.  She was just so ... stupid at times. 
    Even if her degree meant something which is hard to say anymore.  As a resource, the material is worthless.  It’s just paper and I can go to the local library and witness millions of sheets of paper.  As an object, it isn’t unique anymore.  Going to school used to have value when everyone didn’t have it.  The more that have it, the quality decreases.  The symbol of a degree is what is important, the experience that college gave you to obtain such a degree is what matters.  But college can actually un-educate as much as it can teach you.  She went to classes and got decent grades but she didn’t use her knowledge, obtain I guess would be the better word.  She could regurgitate it profoundly but she didn’t volunteer anywhere, didn’t try to find an internship, never used her new knowledge.  It only found it’s place at school.  She didn’t talk about her classes, her interests, she just found friends that would do the talking for her. 
    But she was always try to explore herself.  But she always stressed the “try” which felt like she was pushing herself to it like it should be a rushed decision.  She never found herself liking anything except the provisional entertainment on her superior television.  I would argue that it definitely wasn’t because she was superficial, that she loved the having the object more then the function but I would say that it relieved her from her duties.  But she found herself, often, that she would try to replicate her life with what she saw mixing the natural real with the dramatic fiction.  Daedra never found herself to be as fun loving, humorous, or even the same character as these characters on her screen.  Doing the ditto effect just made her feel like she needed a nap.  And the cycle continued, she visited her friends usually twice a week, maybe more, watch television, nap, find herself in bed, television, nap.  She hardly ever got a solid sleep, a recommended eight hours, but just because she was side stepping the norms didn’t mean she was weird, right?  Frank Zappa said “without deviation from the norm, progress is not possibly.”  But she never heard that quote before.  She’s not that out of the loop.
    ***
    Daedra heard a knock at the door and went out to see who it was.  She didn’t like pausing her show especially since the person might judge her for watching The History Channel’s “Ancient Aliens.”  Or they might want to sit down and watch the rest of it with her.  But at the door was none other then her ex-boyfriend Dirk.  Dirk and Daedra dated for a whopping 8 years but they couldn’t last through college, not even half.  They broke up three years ago but visits like these are frequent.  Dirk barges through the door, this is the first time he’s seen Daedra’s new place. 
    “It’s huge.”
    He couldn’t imagine anyone living in such a house in the high rise by themselves.  Dirk is a jealous guy.  Once he drove from California, where he went to school, to Illinois because Daedra giggled out of place while hanging out with people including guys. 
    “What’s the occasion Dick, I mean Dirk?”  Daedra thought she made a witty remark but she has said this before to him.
    “Just want to see my babe.”
    The reason they broke up is primarily do to them being separated from a long distance relationship but they also were not compatible to societies standards.  Dirk’s a nerd.  You could tell in his name.  Daedra isn’t anything but a lonely girl who defines herself as that which means she likes being known as a self-automated being.  She runs on her own fuel.  But 8 years is a lot of years in a relationship to finally find out they aren’t the one?  No, they were not only young which carries inexperience but they also were blind.  They were the cute nerd couple in high school but once you lose contact with all your friends for moving to a different physical landscape or moving to a mental landscape, the novelty of being this or that wears off and they were stuck with trying to preserve some form of maturity.  Since they couldn’t they instantly broke it off but Dirk has been trying to rekindle their flame.  Or mostly his flame since he never moved on from Daedra.  Daedra hasn’t been in a serious relationship since but has had her fair share of pie crusting.  She once thought she had an STD but really she just forgot to wash up and when she woke the next morning, the oozing sperm formed a resemblance to a stalactite she once seen in Burrows Cave.
    Daedra kept pushing Dirk to leave. 
    “How do you afford such a place?”
    Daedra didn’t like questioning the gods.  Why things seem to work out in your favor for a reason.  Cause and effect boggled down the living, reflection just makes it hard not to stare.  She just wanted to leave it in all appropriation, in a way to overcome the self loathing.  But she kept that to herself.
    “Why do I need to leave?
    Dirk was annoying her.  And the pushes just made him aggressive. But eventually he succumbed to the defense of a long lost love.  That is what he told me he thought of her, and he said “long lost like the ships at the bottom of an ocean.” But everyone hated Dirk.  Her friends would say the meanest things to Daedra about Dirk.  Things that she would know if true like the size of his penis.  Even I hate Dirk but I do think they should be back together. Daedra’s story was much easier to follow and even if monotonous like weekly schedules that would only change do to sickness or feeling guilty you haven’t seen your friend outside of school in a few months.  But at least they were delusional.  Daedra has forgot what the word has even meant.   
    To set a scene.  If they were together they would meet during class breaks and hold hands and walk towards the next task which usually was another class.  They walked with their heads high and didn’t look anyone in the eyes, their vision just blurred the world because it didn't matter.  There hands began to sweat as one was about to split off in their own routes.  Then they would meet up after school and try to do their homework.  Daedra never really cared but Dirk had high hopes, he rode on high horses.  His brother Dick was getting his masters at some prestigious state school hoping to get picked up by an Ivy league boarding school type institution.  Dirk felt self warranted since he was in the same gene swapping pool as his brother that he had the same missions in life.  But Daedra was holding him back by always distracting him from his work, asking for his help on her assignments just to see if he was interested in her.  Dirk always complied but soon had to balance to much at once. 
    That was when they were in high school.  The separation was a little bit different since they hardly ever saw each other.  Dirk was doing very good in school when he was alone.  He thought he was better then the other students since he was from the Midwest and had a full ride scholarship to a mediocre state school called Cal State.  Daedra and him would try to do the usual long distance techniques like phone calls everyday and other times they would Skype but the bandwidth always blocked them from talking more then half an hour.  Daedra would prepare herself before entering the laptop screen.  She would take a shower and pretend Dick was slowly rolling down her skin as the water beads quickly turned from hot to cold.  Oh yeah, the farther Dirk and Daedra were separated, the more she thought of his brother, Dick.  The one who was eight years older then she was and was already married.  She rationalized it like this:  They were just brothers and since that was Dirk’s role model, soon he would become him but hers.  She never told Dick this but would soon throughout the virtual conversations mix match their names in an “honest” mistake.  Dirk wasn't dumb but he never picked up on the subtle hints which would eventually lead to their inevitable separation.  Daedra started feeling guilty and really just wanted Dick other then Dirk.  Dirk sucked and everyone was persuading her too so she could enjoy the college experience.  Though Dick sucked more then Dirk.  Dirk was just an imitator, Dick was the real deal.  The first order of business for Daedra was to experiment with X and blow two dudes with her eyes closed, trying to remember how she got to such an event and who led her to this closet.  Sarah was the answer to both.  Daedra helped her break up with her boyfriend who Daedra was cock gobbling and the closet was her secret place of fornication.
***
    But sometimes I get sick of dictating the Adventures of Daedra.  It’s like watching an actual Truman Show, waiting for something to happen and when it’s done you don’t even realize you are watching anymore.  It, meaning everyone, becomes so connected one would never have to watch the television show to just know.  Everyone else is watching, discussing, it’s on every television like sports at a bar. I want to live at times too.  When she’s sleeping I feel like I could leave the watch post but it doesn't seem to occur because I still know what she was doing.  Even though she might turn over or even wake up to use the bathroom but these things are un-needed in any story, not even a persons.  Also all those are implied actions, I have seen her sleep many times and I know the routine well enough I would be able to recall the exact moment without sight.  The eyes, my eyes, don’t necessarily want to look away, it has departed from the usefulness of an experience.  But one could still say I am experiencing but my body has transfixed and infused itself in the story of Daedra.  One could make many speculations of this orderly disorder.  It could of been the big let down.  Not getting my dream job; to figure out the definitive meaning for Kryptos for the C.I.A.  But I guess they actually do other things like gather intelligence.  This kind of interested me but I thought they meant me, not the intelligence.  By that, I mean I wanted to become full of intelligence but they wanted an organization to be intelligent.  My degree in Philosophy never gave me the know how to do that. 
    Some would even say that the lost of the emotions doesn't come from one event but actually it comes from a chain of events, not just the blow but actually all that came from a certain start.  The doctors would say delusions but I would say it is actually the outlier approach coined by Master of the 4th Dimensions Egan Click.  He, if one could even call him a gender or if the vagueness of thing could better describe his presence.
    He has been found throughout time as the man that everyone despises.  When one begins to question time, he becomes more influential, more powerful.  Time is beginning to become the anti-religion.  Religion promotes community but time makes us try to be automatically productive thus not actually feeling alive while doing our tasks.  People are running from work to make money, to a funeral of their grandpa, not for respect, but to do the right thing.  Time makes us forage for a public appearance but we don’t want to overwhelm our presence so we spend a lot of time in doors, wasting time so we don’t show off on how efficient we can be. 
    But let me not get ahead of myself, I must speak upon the outlier approach as not to upset the god of time.  If one is to have faith in anything, it must be the most constant that has the most prominence in our lives.  Outliers are simple, the one’s outside of a given thing.  A thing could be anything that holds a majority.  Basically then you have the people that don’t accept the thing or just don’t want to take part in it.  The farther you are on the outside, the more distant you are from the majority, the more elongated your emotions are perceived.  You don’t have the same cause and effect, the same emotions, the same stability as the denomination so your mental approach can be seen an un-understandable.  He says it’s to hard to understand the deviance’s because they don’t understand themselves.  They are to busy trying to find out where they belong without just accepting the inevitable;s.  Outliers are usually forgotten or groundbreaking because its a chance to finally be accepted or be cast off as an outlier hopes for.  They hope for both because they are confusing.  I always tried to ask why he was an expert in outliers when he dealt, I thought, primarily dealt with time but he just told me that all was the same.  All was the same. The only way I can decipher this is even time has it’s outliers.  The one’s that don’t want to believe in time are hard to analyze since even know they are living the same life as you or I, well maybe not me, a lonely watcher, but a manager that doesn’t believe in time must know the importance of time even if it’s only used to know where we are better then geographical location ever can do.  Outliers are absurd and Egan would tell you that outliers are just “in the way.”
***
    Daedra went out with her friends today.  Sarah's graduation is coming up and she just wanted to ask about it. 
    "I don't know." said Daedra.  "I never went."
    The girls were shocked.  They were thinking this might be the first time a women never went to her graduation.  What about the invites to parties?  What about the photographs?  The audience?  Being honored?  Stacy couldn't believe what she heard and thought Daedra was playing one of her tricks.  All three of her close friends always thought Daedra was hilarious as if her socially awkward tendencies somehow masked her hilarity. But Daedra never went, she viewed it to be pointless.  Actually she only says that, she forgot what date it was.  Her parents weren't too interested in leaving their retirement bliss in Florida.  Daedra remembered a week before the commencements but forgot to register for tickets.  Her parents weren't going to come out anyway, they were busy being graciously retired in their ancient community of golfers and decorators.  Too bad no one had a good drink around.
    But they easily got over that bullshit and moved on.  They started heading up the steps to the auditorium.  Yes you are graduating but you have to receive your diploma next to the basketball hoop.  Court mandated.  Daedra looked like she thought this was a little demeaning.  But this looked worse.  It wasn't being held in the auditorium.  They walked right on by and started to head into the theater.  Ohhh no. 
    Sarah left crying and thinking, wow this is all I get, so the other girls took their seats.  Rock and Roll was played by her college's band and it was embarrassing.  Wow these kids are great, better then any other musician I've seen live but I'll never hear about ever again. 
    This dragged on for forty five minutes while students got lined up in a room and was explained nothing.
    While everyone in the audience was totally grooving to this music playing.  The frigidness of the embarrassment mixed with confusion usually leads to grooving.  Lyrics were roared.  lighters lighted.  Even a little bit of grinding.
    One of Sarah's ex's made it to the graduation. He knew it would be a good time to watch so he found a picture of the ticket on the Internet, Photoshopped it, gave it a significant bar code, and printed that sucker out on thick paper.  He was up in the second deck where only the faceless sat.  It's not like Daedra or any of the other girls could see him.  Hell neither could the people on stage, there was no lights up there but eyes illuminated against shades.  It spooked him the fuck out, of course it did.  Dick was in no need to middle with any of these people, if that's what we call them.  They eat from the trash or from technology made four decades ago.  Gross.  Dick got to spying. 
    But he didn't see much.  They all seemed to be really into the graduation ceremony.  Daedra actually seemed to be having a good time albeit being spied on.  Dick's attempts never got him anywhere.  He even started watching the damn commencements.  This was a step lower then Dick usually stands and he felt it in his shoulders.  They started to round out and not be so broad.  Manliness was steaming from his body by just being around these nuts.  He was an executive producer.  Yeah and he saw money.  Not really, it was directly deposited into his account but have you seen those zero's! 
    Sarah finally got her degree in ...Business and was ushered off stage.  There was people there that probably could hire some of these kids but instead, they just all clapped and cried in honor of the next step in life.  Denial and the destruction of dreams.  Everyone has two dreams.  Lazy and Success dreams.  Neither can happen but you, in one lifetime, will probably get close to one and so far away from the other one that you'll just remember having the dream. 
***
    The food stopped coming through my mouth.  I guess it actually came through a tube.  It has been since I remember.  Probably coma effect.  I found myself in front of this television with direct access to Daedra and/or nightly updates from The Ruler of The Fourth Dimension himself, Egan Maxwell Click.  He fills me in on the new, public news.  We don't really get to accept the television though.  NATO is trying to give us Vegetable Rights but it's proven false.  NATO doesn't exist in our reality so they don't really care about us.  Maybe they don't even know about us but I know about them.  Like some light house or obelisk. 
    Egan informed us that the bird wasn't giving us our daily nutrient.  It would usually bite the worm but the worm wasn't giving.  The worm was biting it.  The Worm provided it's first strike in years.  They used to be so passive, so I am told from a glorious mouth microstrewn through even gloriouser amplifiers. 
    But we won in the end.  Worms will be worms until they realize that they are blind.  Keep eating dirt sucker.  Thanks for the soil haha.  And the bird goes back to the tube and throws up our food and we take the multi-hosed tube (maybe there a processing plant) and we each get an individual one and suck on the taint until it tastes good.
***
    Dirk wasn't making it very far.  He thought he could pin point Daedra's defenses and squeeze himself back into his old position.  Out in the wild they are called campers.  They find a casual spot and pop tent over and over.  They get obscure through their lack of details and they are as happy as can be.  Maybe Daedra really didn't love his tears or his mix tapes or some stupid fucking poems.  What are they without some substance?  You know that normal stuff, the stuff that connects you back to reality, well Dirk didn't have it, according to Daedra.  He never lived because of his lack of social dreams.  Why wouldn't he want to meet everyone?  Daedra believed this but didn't actually partake in her own blessings.  Like I have previously stated, Daedra is a denial loner.  She feels bad for what she's doing but does it anyone, by herself, because that's what she wants to do.  Not a good match, never a good match.  But Dirk won't give up even with his ridiculous name.
    So instead of getting the picture, Dirk squatted in Daedra's city.  He used to manage his own Arby's but now he has to start all over again since he quit.  No city cared what Dirk did in some run of the mill suburb.  This was a new culture and he was meant to forget the old memories. 
    Dirk was panicking living in his new closet apartment.  He spent all of his saving's for a furniture designer so he could actually get a bed in there that flips out into a love seat or a dining table.  Every piece of furniture transforms into something else.  It starts to become strange when you forget what is in the next spin.  Couch to coffee table to bean bag.  Who ever he hired had to be some engineer that needed to stretch his wings.  Mind boggling. 
    Dirk couldn't let go and it, or he, was sad all the time.  Reporting on his present day whereabouts would be easy and boring.  Wait, what is he doing you ask?  Well he is just sitting on his couch watching the Olympics.  He carries around a belt attachment for his tissues.  He never knows when he might explode into tears.  He can't leave because when he cries he has to take a shower so no one sees him even though he lives by himself. 
    Dirk grew up with Dick as his older brother.  Dick is a man and Dirk is just a shoddy replicate.  Dirk just thought he could be his brother, couldn't be too hard, WE ARE BLOOD.  But it is and dreams are personal and Dirk now finds himself bartending at some Dive bar in the ghetto's of New York.  You know the bad part of one of the boroughs you all hear about.  Trying to compete with his parent's better half proved to be a lose-lose battle.  Not only would everyone around him realize his struggles but also they all started liking his brother Dick more then him.  It was just natural progression.  No one wants a Small Mac over a Big Mac.  But Dirk was too nearsighted to even think of a plan to set his own course and sail the waves of manifest destiny.  He is here now!  But he wasn't, he never was, and didn't want to be.  This motherfucker had a death wish on himself.  Instead of turning his misfortunes into dreams he turned his misfortunes into present reality.  His logic severely scarce now threatened his own safety.  But Dirk was too much of a pussy to do anything to himself.  He was hoping he would win the lottery to make everyone jealous (didn't work after he won a brand new Kia off of a scratch off) and that he would do something so CRAZY and cool to commit suicide too that it would be above anything Dick could every do (not true.)  Daedra ridiculed him for his Kia because it was manufactured in Korea and how could you support them.  They are building nukes.  Nice guy Dirk just wanted to slurp up anything his girlfriend at the time had to say. He believed her but for the true information, Kia is made in South Korea and that people are stupid.
Now he was down and out by himself.  A disastrous occasion might occur soon.  Dirk was clueless, the plotting has passed over his head, easily.  Everything that was happening just glossed over him because he was too busy trying to figure out his own life to even try and look around him.  He was an easy target to use.  His emotions got the best of him which made them easy to judge.  To predict I guess would be the better word.  His dreams easily defined since he was in middle school, it was as bad as watching a relationship uncoil. 
    But can't we all just feel bad for Dirk for a moment.  Dirk isn't a bad guy.  Hell he's hardly the protagonist to this story.  He's just a pawn in this silly game of life.  Dirk learned about time too early in his life.  Days, years, decades.  Life expectancy rates in America were high.  And he wasn't.  Each day was just another day to waste and hope for something to come his way.  Like a bus but he never even left his apartment for his craving to set in right.  It's like dreaming about the money you could win in a lottery but never playing.  It's like being born without consenting.  Dirk didn't ask for this and would have easily said no and he even knew it.  The light from his one window made it hard to sleep during the day because it didn't have any blinds.  His television received glare from this said sunlight which made watching shows undelightful.  Not even his apartment could be right and it hurt him to much to put it all in perspective.  Too bad he didn't live in Oregon.
    He decided to get up and break his television and window.  Let the sunlight ruin it all.
***
    Daedra actually wanted to start finding who was paying for her shit but she didn't know where to start.  Could she trace the card?  Daedra didn't really want to look into it and have the possibility that the card could possibly be cancelled.  That would suck a lot.  The nosing around wasn't worth it to her so she decided to go out for a drink at a bar down the street to spend some of that free cash.  It was raining everyday, raining money, and raining sadness.  Depression seems to be slipping into all the characters.  She wasn't just depressed by the confusion.  She was just in a funk.  That good old college, glass door, funk that doesn't leave until you find a job or submit to mediocrity.  It's when you realize that your prime is over, you probably can't be the best at anything anymore, and the millions stop dropping off if you want to be in the arts.  But she didn't even know what she wanted to do.  She thought she would of changed right into it but change just doesn't happen without a little effort.  She started wearing velcro shoes for Christ sake.  She stopped even blogging about her daily life because the hits were to low.  She never had it all and neither will you.***
    Dick eventually pulled out his dick metaphorically.  Egan Maxwell Click aka The Ruler of the Fourth Dimension just mentioned him in the news cast.  His picture was shown and Egan only had praise.  He called it the Law of Expansion which simply states that if a noun was to be an asset that the asset must become the thing.  It's very Economist Zen shit.  The way I understand it, disagree with my low intelligence as much as you need, but if a something is worth taking then you must absorb the positivity.  And as you grab, the more influence that follows the thing in particular.  You learn from it and the intelligence pops like particles down a reaction line.  But The Ruler didn't say anything about him, only the picture of Dick staring blindly into a camera.  It's actually a pretty good photo of him.  He looked a little sad with his eyes sagging low and his pupils pale.  Damn news and it's objectivity. They only ever releases the information that is important to us.
***
    Dirk thought about changing his life around as he sat up on his couch.  He began to stare blankly at the wall in front of him, nodding, and humming.  Going through his thoughts like they were pre-determined.  Like they have been on radio repeat for the last few months.  Trying to plan the next day, the next step, the next goal.  Then Dirk looks down unhappily and says "Daedra, leave me alone." Dirk said it with much vigor, with much contempt and uses it like a protection spell.
    But before he could cast it, before the magic words could take shape into energy THAT constantly surround all of us like an Atom, his apartment door became tapped on.  First the noise was lightly but the more Dirk didn't want to get up to help some stranger find a number in a phone book, the knocking because louder and louder.
    "All right already!"
    Dirk started to get up but he could hardly see.  He hasn't turned on the lights in at least a week which by the way, is his new record.  He actually closed his eyes to maneuver through his living room, passed the coffee table with toe stubbing veracity  passed the broken glass from the window, to the door.  But the knocking stopped.
    "You can't say I'm fucking too late for your spam!"
    Dirk thought he was fine until he began talking.  The words out of his mouth were mean, hateful and he didn't give a shit on top of it.  Broken hearts should give him a one up on everyone else.  At least for a few months, possibly a year.  Can't they just feel sorry for him.  But he was forgotten.
    Dirk tried looking through the peephole but could hardly get it to work since his apartment building always kept their lighting at a casual dim.  At night it could go from this casual dim to sleepy intoxication.  The light could fall off you as you made your way to your bed. But who the fuck was out there?
    The sound of glass shards being broken into many littler shards echoed off of Dirk's wall.  He was still curious about the stranger at the door to turn around but he did hear it.  I could tell by scrunching of his shoulders from the noise.
    Dirk opened the door to a pitch black hallway.  The lights flickered.  Someone's behind him, approaching him in all black like a shadow.  Dirk goes to close the door and catches him in his sight but his motion is already too late.  He shuts the door and the black figure pushes him aside and locks it.
    "Oh no oh no oh no."
    "Jeez can't you be a man for once in your life."
    The voice sounded familiar.
    "Take it all."
    "There is nothing to take.  It smells like shit in here."
    "God, why me?"
    "Just sit down."
    The figure motioned to Dirk to go lay on his couch.  Dirk's eyes were crying, more then usual at this time of night.  Dirk lays face down and hugs a pillow.  The figure hovers over him.
    "Why do you think I'm going this?"
    "Oh god, oh god,  Spare me!"
    The figure shakes it's head.  He's wearing a mask but he has dark moss green eyes.  Dirk puts his face onto the pillow and squeezes more.  He continued to cry and wheep for terror.
    The figure took out his knife.  The flickering of the lights in the hallway made the knife's shine against the luminated white walls.
    He slid it into his back once.  Not a jab but slowly though and went all the way in, to the hand, and pulled it back off and wiped it against the pillow by Dirk's head.  Dirk tried to fight it, he thought he would die with more honor then in the back in the dark in his apartment, but his struggles that looked like seizures only held up for a few seconds until the knife struck his heart.  His body seemed to perish from the weight of the half foot blade.  The wheeps and cries for god quickly left the room as the figure went out the front door as the lights in the hallway were dark.
***

Daedra recieved the news a few days later through facebook.  His brother Dick was holding an event for him.  He didn't necessarily call it a funeral but that's what it was.  A get together of people you only see at these things.  We call them family.  Not that many people showed up though.  It was in an inconvenient part of town, where two highways intersected.
The funeral home was full of the classics.  Benches outside of the hall.  Fake plants to really give off that homely feel.  Old carpet to show you that death has existed forever and that dirt and use makes anything worthless and garbage.  The book cases stacked with bibles, evolution, and civil war general books.  Old guys running it walking around like priests.  Then you catch the manager at the Funeral Home watching over the "party" making sure it's going well.  Funeral managing is risky business.  Chaos can unfold with not enough ranch for the wavy chips or if there isn't enough coat racks.  No hat racks, that's a joke, but seriously you don't want to also have excess either making the patient or the dead guy (Dirk) look like no one cares about them.  That's a sad way to go.  What a sad sad day.
His parents showed up.  His aunts and uncles.  It's pretty much a family reunion in here.  Everyone is talking about each other like there wasn't a dead guy staring at the cieling.  This wasn't really different then Dirk's everyday activities.  No one really paid too much attention to him.
Daedra only walked up to his casket once and the smell of the poporri turned her off and made her want to sneeze.  She had to stare outside and crunch her face and stare.
Dick just stood by his brothers casket and stared at something for a minute or so.  He wouldn't lay his eyes off of it.  It was moving and everyone else in the room that was talking to their cousin they haven't seen since grandpa died is that is now a communications salesman and might have a job opening decided to turn and feel swayed.
Someone stood up, even though most people were already standing, and tried to deliver a speech but since they were sitting down for an hour giving out a long form speech about how they are doing stumbled back into his seat.  His parents scratched their noses and looked around if anyone would say a word about Dirk.  No one did have anything to say except Daedra and Dick and they seemed to be absent.
They were else where.  Doing other things if you catch my riff.  Daedra got Dick'd.  It was like some invisible barrier has been removed from their life.  Oh yeah, Dirk.  It was still his funeral.  But they didn't do the deed in the funeral home.  That was risky business with life and death facing you in a dead, pale face.  Oh yeah, that was Dirk's face.  But the sex was good, out in a Benz on rims.  It was luxurious.  The interior was to die for.  It was nice leather with heated massagers in the back as well.  Even if it was a luxury sedan, it was still cramped.  Even the Kama Sutra couldn't provide positions to bang in car.  Nothing could fit just right.  No full movements where taking place.  Both their eyes were closed to really force this thing.
Everyone cleared out of the funeral in a uniform fashion.  No the place wasn't closing but someone proposed getting a kegger and finishing off Dereks life the right way.  No one corrected him.  Daedra and Dick had to hide from the crowd as they laid on the floor of his car.  They thought this could be a better position but they were wrong again and just moved on with the crowd as well.  Actually Dick kicked Daedra out of his car and rolled down his window to smile and skid off, burning rubber and screaming noises.
***
Daedra tried to move past that night at the funeral home.  That was one of the weirdest days of her life.  Sex at a funeral home sounds like some real blues. Really everything has seemed off since that night.  She has started to throw up early in the mornings.  She must be pregnant or got sick off that fucking chicken salad they were serving for dinner.  A sandwich for dinner is preposterous   Neither really mattered since important things were happening on television.  It's political season and everyone is trying to prove that they are right.  Liberal know it all socialites are trying to be all hippy bullshit on our ideals while the Republicans sing nationalistic anthems and cry until they get there way.  The crying is bi-partisan though.  It's like a soap opera in front of my life.  Or her life.
We don't really talk about politics much since there is only one ruler and he just gives us laws and life.  We owe Egan Maxwell Click our lives so we must accept his constitutions and theories and regularity on a whim and live with faith and not think about it too much.  Thinking gets your in trouble, here, anywhere, and simultaneously nowhere.
Daedra didn't really want to move today or any day   After the loss of Dirk, she didn't really go out anymore.  She didn't usually but maybe the funeral was her swan song.  Everything just hit a point of absurdity where she finally patched up everything with the living by sleeping with Dick and everyone kind of disappeared.  That was an episode/scene that you would call a fucking finale.  Some character development really shone through.
Daedra is starting to feel watched.  She constantly looks at herself in her television screen and processes the reflection and herself trapped in the box.  She would look over her shoulder while being comforted by her couch.
She thought she started hearing footsteps in the hallway but it was just her neighbors.  She really needed to get out of this apartment but who would she call.  A friend?  That's ridiculous.  What could a friend do that she couldn't?  She would occasionally get texts and put her phone back in her pocket.  Or maybe she was just checking her reflection?
***
Dick has been on the news broadcasts more and more.  It's a sudden shift seeing more then just the ruler.  They seem to be acting like politicians in the other reality or universe.  Shaking hands and always smiling.  Rubbing each others freshly manicured hands and chuckling about nothing for a photo.  Kinda gay or just really happy to see each other after a few days of campaigning.
Egan just says that's its foreign policy.  Is it foreign or extra terrestrial?  Extra dimensional.  But I guess foreign is broad enough to encompass the alternative whatsamagig.  Egan just wants us to know that everything's going to work out.  He's safe and calming and he reassures us that this is good.
He's starting to act like a real pussy.  Apologizing for doing things.  He didn't like that he never addressed our problems.  Hopefully all of us vegetated audience members will agree with me and say, we are happy we are at.  This is the most fantastic absurd life one could ever live and I thank you Egan Maxwell Click.  Rule on!
I know I should probably leave myself out of the story since I'm just the narrator but I feel like I am an intricate part in the details of Daedra's story.  She's just a god damn girl.  But I'm just here waiting to see what will happen.  Or what could happen?  I don't have any power to change anything.  I'm just an observer and it's entertainment since it isn't reality.  Well our reality.  But not all of our reality.  I don't know how to differentiate between realities and that's the best I can do.  We eat, live, and watch.  We probably have a collective conscious, the vegetables and I, since we view the same things.  We have the same nurture.
I guess I've never really thought about it on a grand scale before.  Our their children where I'm at?  Who is doing these activities?  We are activity less and people get to do fucking activities whenever they want!  Or do they not get to control their activities and our slaves?!  This is outrageous that this could even be happening under our noses.  And EGAN'S watching us or monitoring us through these food tubes?  Well it hasn't been too bad.  But it's injustice at it's finest blight!  I'm content.  But inequality is creeping threw the public sector, it's curdling over into the sewers of yesteryear.  And I probably wouldn't change a thing, worrying just leads to irritation.  You never want to mix those mental issues into your physical life and vice versa.  That shit's unstable.
***
Daedra's friend Stephanie tried to get her out of the house.  She called but only got her voicemail.  "This is Daedra's phone so please leave a message."  So unoriginal and stock that it would be more character revealing if she just left it as the robotic voice that says your number back.  Daedra didn't pick up her phone because she didn't want to leave the house today.  Stephanie probably wanted to her to come out to some bar so she could talk about how great or shitty her life was after graduation.  Everyone wants to talk about how depressing their life is and it usually is the same story from different faces.  They were all still clueless to Daedra's fortune, they all thought she just had a job so they never bothered contacting her between nine to five on weekdays.  How juvenile, no one works those shifts anymore in the new world.  Those jobs are already written into existence and our a badge of honor for the people that forgot work was for working.
Daedra still felt sick but didn't think too much from it.  She really didn't like throwing up but who did.  Her friends didn't necessarily mind and would occasionally throw up once a week from drugs.  These college kids call it the purge, consuming as much mind altering substances to make us all think that everything was a common sense conspiracy and the only way of resolving such conspiracies was to have faith in the drugs to show you the light.  The light being the solution to the mystery.  The plot of life, our lives being written in a tome a million years old.  Druggies were really falling behind modernity.  The inspiration from drugs has already hit a mecca and their inclusion on life was just an anchor, not a invisible lateral movement into the next zen/nirvana.
Daedra didn't touch them unless they were wrapped up in alcohol   A few glasses of wine before Desperate Housewives was a tradition.  A corkscrew was mandatory for the morning news and all its superficial commentary on youtube videos.  But drugs like acid just didn't seem to make her remove her clothes like they used to.  Maybe its because she has grown up or more accurately  drugs aren't fun when you take them in the solidarity of your own home, by yourself, underneath fake light and electric candles.
***
Dick over the last few months has just been waiting.  His sunglasses pass an arrogance streak across them.  His stance is already postured, arms on his hips like a white guy with a plan.  It's a lot like N.W.A. but no guns and instead of guns he just carries around lots of money.  Like stacks and stacks in briefcases money.  Something must be really looking up for him.
The camera doesn't focus on him anymore.  Like I said it's been a few months since I last seen him.  Probably around the time of Dirk's lame funeral.  The more and more he's on television, the less I see of him on the show.  He must becoming fazed out, maybe Egan is trying to help him or something.  For some ransom money at least.  We could use some extra couches over here buddy and at least a little variety of sodas.  Just fucking coke, give me a break man.  So ransom his ass to give us some goods.
Actually it doesn't really seem like I've seen all that much happen to me after the funeral.  Was that seriously the ending and now they in the process of tearing this story down?  Maybe they will have a spin off!  Reproduce that as much as possible but I bet it won't be as good as this one.  This was the first for a lot of us.
Since Egan is the master of the fourth dimension, that means that three preceding dimensions have been successful.  The audience doesn't really matter if we are the same or not.  We might be asked to stay or leave or not even told anything.  Free will can be a bitch.  But each dimension is a new story.  The logical rules behind each dimension are not understood.  If explored, they would be wasting the time of the next dimension thus not watching the story thus not being prepared to play the next dimension.  You could say it's like playing another movie with a physical blu-ray.
There are so many inconclusive evidence to support what is happening.  The only things you ever here about "the switch" is through god awful epic poetry.  They bring out the classical rhapsodes, the cellists, and anything that could be seen as nostalgic no matter what age you were.  These guys even looked old.  It was all on television like an annual parade but the dimensions weren't necessarily a tradition.  It's not measurable by our standards.  It's length is completely made up most people say.  The conspiracists blame the audience (ME, how could they blame me?) because we provide awareness to the alternative reality.  Our emotions fuel the story supposedly.  Now that's some stupid metaphysics.
***
Dicks a god damn showboat   He is starting to show up more and more on television.  Everyone seems so happy even though we hardly even watch the damn show anymore.  We are turned off or the television isn't playing anything.  The switch feels inemenient.  But at least I will be able to document the transisition for others.  I could live down in legitimacy like each ruler.  I'll be the first author.  I probably could of capitalized on being able to watch a much more productive reality and possibly use that to own capitalism.  I could of learned from alternative history!  But I guess we were all just too busy watching the story.  Isn't it always a good one since half the fiction is filled in by you.  We are all editors to the reality around us so what makes this scenario any different.  The story is ALWAYS good.  You just aren't trying hard enough.  I'm sitting here trying to observe while you observe me.  Is this some bureaucratic pitfall?  Do I have to talk to CORPORATE!?
But in all seriousness, Dirk is delirious.  Or he must be.  He's running the show and is working with Egan.  Dirk seems giddity but his mouth is usually shut.  He usually only talks in small, never large and never revealing his teeth.  He seems to stare passed the receivers shoulder like he was trying to find the horizon.  He facial expressions are always smug with a tried and true dimple on his right cheek.
The camera just keeps following him.  Walking to work.  Then where he works but in all realness, he just walks from location to location in the newest MMO.  Battles occur then back to walking.  Then he walks to his car.  Then his car drives him home.  He walks inside.  It's like his week.  Monday through Friday.  This can't be life. This can't be Dirk.
But it is.  It always is.
***
It's happening, it's happening.  The world is crumbling.  Not literally but I can or think I can feel the seconds being sucked up by a black hole.  Do black holes suck up or in? I guess it could only be answered by theorems which then will never be corrected.  Whatever, if it's wrong, if this reality is wrong and all our dimensions are off.
It's not like you could move a foot in your old body anyways.  The whole time we were just a yard away but we had the walls with windows and you had centipedes and nanobots.  We have miles and miles of nothing and your dimensions is just squared.  Ours is cubed bitch.
In a way that is unexplainable.  Sorry but I tend to shoot the gun if I can make a joke out of it.  Well I wouldn't kill a man over it.  Murder is only legal for some and it's for policing or governmental matters.  Superseding the tedious manners of folk, to revolt a certain idea.  It's all in the sake of futuristic castes and gene pools.  Diseases and weirdness, deviation versus nature.  Select inbreeding like the white trash we now call high class.
***
The television is never focused.  It's a panning shot of the whole world.  Lives for a day, camera time, watching with no hope.  Isn't the world goofy?  And were just all on Pluto watching from a distance while the distance overlaps us.  If it wasn't our turn to speak last year, why would it be this time?  Why would we want to talk now.
Who are we even talking too.  And why do I separate truth from my reality to fantasy in theirs.  In ours or whatever.  It's all one big teet.  The bird regurgitates for us and so does your universe.  It's just one big barf on our plane of existence.
But I guess we don't try to fix anything either.  Can I keep on complaining?  Of course.  Nothing will get done if all I use is my freedom of speech.  No one ever just paved the way through their voice alone.  That would be some weird did a tree fall in a forest if the tree was just by itself?
This isn't a cave either, we are free to watch another show.  I guess while looking out the window, there is a place I've never been.  That street and that street.  No one has been down there.  We are the cave masters by chance inside of another cave.  It's a peanut in a walnut type situation where we have the power... observational power over them.  It's so close to being real in some conversions, it would be.
***
Television is going in and out.  It was out and now it's on. It was on and now it's off and I don't really know where the location it is showing.  The royal family is there in their gowns.  The man looks happy and is standing, just staring.  The woman is giving the royal entrance.
The only one that is recognizable is Egan and he is looking down.  It's not necessarily a give up since it's how organisms work.  It's natural order in a designated system.
Smocks are worn on their faces and the only reason I know it's Egan is from his forehead.  It's wrinkeless and his eyebrows are too bushy and high.
It's out.  The vessel.  It's given off like a running play.  And down the long hallway.  Man, I missed it.  My whole life's work down a long dark hallway.  Well, whatever I guess.  The seed has bloomed and been taken away by some busy bee.
Everything needs to work and every body needs to work.  There is no way that male nurse knew that he was carrying a dimension.  Well OUR dimension.  You guys and your synonyms   Hardly any contextual clues to define that one, amiright?  Or is the change of words or even communication of itself being held back by such naysayers.  A dimension is a plane.  Like in the sky?  I digress into a peephole of mold and petri dishes.
***
The television has been off for a few days.  Jeez I have so many questions and The Master of the Fourth Dimension isn't here to give us our theorems to ponder.  I just need the information.  It's not like I can plea or plead.I can finally see the other audience members.  I remembered that I wasn't actually paralyzed to the couch.  Jeez do I feel dumb. A doctor told me that it wasn't actual paralysis, just faux paralysis.  The entertainment made me feel relaxed and care free just enough for me to just sit back.  I fell asleep sitting up.  I'm still locked in my room.  But I can at least look out the windows over at the other people.  Most of them were still watching the blank television screens but I thought I saw someone wave to me down the street.  They were they only one on the sidewalk and he looked familiar.  And too happy.
***
What is this happy day or something?  People take to the streets with a forgotten reason.  It's a god damn parade out there.  New faces to take out the old.  I don't want to move.  Neither do the rest of us.  The old out like policies and the new in like politics.  We panic because we are uncertain.  Our livelihoods are still black with no updates as the clouds turn to celebration.
It's so hectic, not knowing.  Or not knowing what to know.  You can only predict a situation so many times until you realize that none of your intuition is exact and you've never been a stickler for calculations.
Dick's yelling at Dirk.  They are both here celebrating in the parade of newbies.  Jeez now I have to feel old and conservative to let this shit happen.  Dick's saying that it's his baby.  Dirk is trying to convince him with a smile on his face that it's his baby.  They aren't yelling about whose actual baby it was because that's simple.  It was Dick's but Dirk is trying to play semantics.  Yeah Dick might have had sex with her and got his sperm all up in her eggs but how did she meet him.  In what circumstances were they in that they could finally leave that lust behind and keep their loins in line.  I'm pretty sure they were at Dirk's funeral.
Dick nods to me.  Dick says no, it's his child.  It's his gift.  Hopefully the Granter likes it.  Well I guess I should explain.  The Granter is actually a person, a place, a thing, a noun.  It's not necessarily anything, we just give it a name to not confuse.  It's kind of like god but it's kind of like Mother Nature and Father Time too.  Or even Santa Claus and Jesus.  It's like Mel Gibson and Natalie Portman acting in a movie.  It's those characters we relate too but they end up being fiction.  Well the Granter is more faith based.  We hope and usually it does take our gifts and there has never been in incident where it didn't but we must still acknowledge that things can go wrong no matter the predictions.  The spread.  Dirk doesn't care about the gamble, he's just trying to stall us before each word, each motion, is captured.  When will this dimension finally climax?
The tension has already passed.  All the fear already was built up and now I'm just streaming.  Now I'm just counting the blank screens and confused looks on the dweller's faces.  We just look out the window at the new parade.  They fill the streets.  They pour in from some foreign source.  Nothing is crumbling but now I can feel over populated.  The space between the air and my lungs are beginning to shudder to the new noise.  Everything is new to the worn.  Everything is new when it's new.  And we old, we are older than anything new.  The new always seduced and the old always tries to plea for the same life.  It's only duality, it's all parallel.
***
I'm sure you got it now.  Well I do all of a sudden.  And now it's all over.  Isn't that how it always is.  We learn too late.  We realize only when reality is fleeting.  But isn't that how it's always is.
We got the baby.  His name is Arthur, the Master of the Fifth Dimension.  Everything is still blooming, life is entering our dimension like we just hit Spring.  These people must of came from the other dimension.  Your world because they were ready to watch, they have been preparing for it their whole life.  They were on the internet, watching television, re-posting scripted quotes.  I used to be like that. All like you on the internet.  In a community focused intently on my interests.
Then I became self loathing.  I wanted more, to see more, to get ahead of the intelligence, I suppose.  But you can never quite catch up.  Others know more, no matter what.  You always know more then others but they are figuring out their own lives.  I was just observing culture, neither influenced, nor attributing to anything.  I fell off like the end.
Death comes first and it feels like tumbling.  You could even be alive and feel death.  I remember thinking I was something but I was just a critic.  I always wanted to be known but had nothing to show, yah know?  And once you have it, you really don't know what to do with it, and thinking you have something is worse then having nothing but wanting something for your heart ache.  I tried different things but I didn't care and neither did anyone else.
Decay is second.  It's the staleness, the regular.  It's where the ending has been passed and now you just sit and wait.  You start to lose it.  Looking at the computer screen, watching the pages and pages and websites go, go, go.  Hyper can't even explain this phenomena   You just keep hitting next until you start down voting for reposts.  Decaying is like knowing everything, you have reached the outer limits of your interests and now you are stuck between thinking about living or just rehashing your damn life again.  Until we make this decision, will we know where you go next.
Life is a constant, like time, like the standard dimensions.  If you want to stay in your hobbies, you stay in decay.  The old stuff you start culting onto certain areas or artists and others you start to ignore for no apparent reason.  The new stuff, i.e. change, is ignorantly hated on because you have adjusted to the old.  You fear change because if you change, who are you?  We face these identity crisis every day when we pick out what we want to wear to work.  But if we try to expand who we are, realizing that we won't lose who we were and we can still become someone we were not at one time, we turn into birth.
***
The child is prince.  Egan's gone for good.  He either left into the negative area surrounding both our realities or he perished.  His funeral was celebrated with another parade.  Parades are happening all the time now like it's some festivity.  People have been vanishing from their windows.  So many that I can't tell if I'm still here or not.  These new members have been taking their place, walking in the apartments like they were some exploreres from the 16th century.  They look happy.
Dirk has been petitioning still, trying to become the new master.  Dick received his crown from the former master right before his disappearance.  This is how it is.  How it will be until innovation changes, until culture realigns itself with a new territory.  Until we follow new rules and regulations.
My body hurts like a ghosts would.  We fall through.  The series is over and onto a new pilot.  Who will be this years star?  Who will have there life broadcasted?  I've already been on both sides of the camera.  The perspective can't abolish me but I must leave.  No one has to ask.  The layers of reality our shedding and I don't have the will to try and stay like some of these watchers.  Death strikes again.  The ones that were watched become the audience.  Decay becomes another day.