It was during that sleep madness. When you're neither alseep, nor awake, and nothing ever seems quite real.An idea came to me. It was a stupid, horiffic idea that I couldn't get out of my head.The idea was this. A superhero, who was a fop.I kept mumbling 'fop fop and away!' in my sleep.Maybe he could have another catchphrase. 'I'll fop until you drop'.I imagine him to have very large hair. A long flowing silk coat and a silver tipped cane. There would be ruffs on his sleaves, light, white and very, very lacy.
Describe yourself. He had always found that difficult. 'A lost soul, wandering through the remnants of the world. Envious of the moon, because at least it has the stars.'That wasn't true. He wasn't lost. He entertained no sort of opinion towards the moon. However, it sounded pretty and managed to create the illusion of being deep without saying very much at all.He thought for a while. Maybe that phrase was perfect. Illusions, foolery, trickery...those were the things he clung on to.Where would he be without his little bag of tricks, his language?Dead and buried.
'Do you really want to look in my mind?''Of course I do.''Why?''Well, I want to know you. I mean, really know you. Not just the superficial face that everyone sees, but the you underneath that. Underneath the make-up and painted faces.''Do you really want to? I mean, it's not exactly a pretty sight. My mind can be a scary place. Full of those monsters you used to believe haunted your bed and bats that claw fear in the walls of my mind.''I still want to see. I need to know you.''Well...ok.''Good.'
He continued with a shudder.'My God. Every waking moment we are faced with our mortality and still we get dressed and make friends and eat and walk and talk. My God...'It was at this point that the table collapsed. Flat on his back, he started to address the ceiling.'Nevertheless,' and he raised his arm as if to emphasise his point, 'Nevertheless...right now, at this moment, I can think and I can feel. And to the best of my knowledge, so can you.' He gestured at his audience.'So for now, let's just dance our worries away.'
James tried to smile. It did not come naturally to him. When he was small, he would practise smiling in front of a mirror. For hours he would just stand there, trying to force his lips to make a friendly gesture. They rebelled. Whenever he smiled, it looked like one of those emoticons people used in messaging. Not a real smile at all, but people saw one because that was what they expected.Her smell had become more intense. It made his fingers wriggle in pleasure. The only other time that happened was when he played his piano.
'You know what?''What?''I think people are too harsh on themselves.''Hmm.''I mean, everyone seems to think that they are not good enough. Which is not good enough, really. You should be happy about yourself and your situation.''Well, what if you're in a bad situation?''There are always others in worse. And if you complain about your one, then you're insulting those in a worse position. If you get what I mean.''I think so.''So people should be happy.''And how should they do that?''I don't know. Smile every hour or something...''Wonderful advice.''Yeah...'