Guest guest Posted November 17, 2004 Report Share Posted November 17, 2004 A little sketch of a child: He's a little guy, been about four years of age all his life, and he's been telling jokes that send people away for some time now. He has found that the more he tells jokes that no one wants to hear, the more he needs to tell them. He just can't stop. This thing in him just has to run to the end, and that might be a very long time indeed. He's currently controlled by the dynamics of rejection: constantly courting it, expecting it, terrified of it, and tipping over into drama just to keep the whole thing going for as long as he can, back and over again always into the same psychodrama he has been playing out for years now. He did it in the playground at school, he does it in all his personal and professional relationships, he invents places he can do it, and he has invented a way to allow him to do it but never actually experience it, never let that experience work its way through him. Because he likes this psychodrama. It's who he is. But he's drythroated in it. He wants it all to stop. He craves intimacy but he sends it away always. He knows it will kill him. He's afraid of it. It comes so close, and then he starts spewing words again. Close, then come the words, loud and brash and crass. He's like the comedian who gets no laughs but always reaches his target market of people who feel that there's just something wrong with them if they don't find him funny, so they hang around for a bit. He mines this seam. Eventually everyone leaves anyway because desperation smells bad to everyone after a while, and there he is now, still onstage, sweating, hoarse, begging, every utterance from him in bold, capital letters. Everyone just leaves and he needs a fight. He needs someone to just kill him and get it out of the way. He will never go to the killer's place, so he's depending on a killer to come to him, shoot him on the stage as he sweats. It will probably never happen. And if it did, he'd just milk the last moments of his lifebreath for more drama. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted November 23, 2004 Report Share Posted November 23, 2004 Hi Bit, Sorry for this delayed reaction to your sketch. Although you didn't mention anyone by name, it's clear that this is intended to be a critique of somebody here in the forum. This sort of thing isn't allowed here because it tends to create an unfriendly atmosphere. It also discourages other people from contributing because they have to worry that they too will be the targets of this sort of analysis. Best wishes, Rob - " the wild bit " <singfree <realization > Wednesday, November 17, 2004 9:40 AM story of a boy, a brother, one of us > > > > A little sketch of a child: > > He's a little guy, been about four years of age all his life, and he's > been telling jokes that send people away for some time now. He has found > that the more he tells jokes that no one wants to hear, the more he > needs to tell them. He just can't stop. This thing in him just has to > run to the end, and that might be a very long time indeed. > > He's currently controlled by the dynamics of rejection: constantly > courting it, expecting it, terrified of it, and tipping over into drama > just to keep the whole thing going for as long as he can, back and over > again always into the same psychodrama he has been playing out for years > now. He did it in the playground at school, he does it in all his > personal and > professional relationships, he invents places he can do it, and he has > invented a way to allow him to do it but never > actually experience it, never let that experience work its way through > him. > Because he likes this psychodrama. It's who he is. But he's > drythroated in it. He wants it all to stop. He craves intimacy but he > sends it away always. He knows it will kill him. He's afraid of it. It > comes so close, and then he starts spewing words again. Close, then come > the words, loud and brash and crass. > > He's like the comedian who gets no laughs but always reaches his target > market of people who feel that there's just something wrong with them if > they don't find him funny, so they hang around for a bit. He mines this > seam. Eventually everyone leaves anyway because desperation smells bad > to everyone after a while, and there he is now, still onstage, sweating, > hoarse, begging, every utterance from him in bold, capital letters. > Everyone just leaves and he needs a fight. He needs someone to just kill > him and get it out of the way. He will never go to the killer's place, > so he's depending on a killer to come to him, shoot him on the stage as > he sweats. > > It will probably never happen. And if it did, he'd just milk the last > moments of his lifebreath for more drama. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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