The Doctor points out the bubble-like alien parasiting my
brain. Looked like an embryo was growing there. A second me. Swiping a
second-hand consciousness. Paying me neither rent nor mind. Yet taxing me a
tithe of my cells. The bare faced cheek of it. Tithe not shaved in a month now.
To my delugeded pain receptors, the razor felt like it was scooping out the
inside of my skull. He indicated that the tumours were now squatting against
the language centres of my brain. Journeying to the centre of me. I say
squatting, squat-trusting may be more opposite, I mean apple sit. I doughnut
what I mean. Less than hole.
These days find I can't finish my sentences. Used to finish
those of others in my eagle anticipation. I was agnawing like that. Ignoring? Shoe on the other boot now. The ironing
being others have to guest my words, to figure out what I'm trying to slay.
This thing willow the death of me. Though there willow no me to speak of, since I
would have longing surrended any bill utility to espresso myself. The memories
will be longing lost, since I will lactate the romps reculling them. I will an
empty, wordless shell. Like cancel the crab, chew more up of me (that one I did
on purpossum, I'm not quiet shotput yet, not when I shotput what's left of my
mind to it).
They slay I'm slearning my words. Languish is defecting me. Splaying
possum. Langwish I...
17 comments:
Love this. My Dad (an English teacher) lost the words he loved following a stroke. He could talk round a word, but not remember what it was. This gets it totally.
Oh, this is brilliant, kinda scary and amusing at the same time. Nice wordplay.
Innovative word play.
Adam B @revhappiness
I found this so very heart breaking. You wrote this with such feeling attached to it that I believed it was the character talking for real. How sad, how frustrating, how depressing it must be to loose one's words.
Very cleverly written Marc.
Terrifying. Brilliant.
Very evocative. Nice use of language to convey the digression, gave me a really good image of the scene.
Excellency doner kebab....err...brill-o-pad! Wheelie!
I agree with Steve and Simon: kinda scary and amusing, terrifying, brilliant.
The progressive deterioration of the language was poetic, like watching a building collapse.
Sad, interesting, funny, inventive. All of the above. Nice job, Marc.
Poetic, lyrical, climactic, but most of all evokes empathy from all language and word lovers - how very horrifying and debilitating! Great flash Marc.
Brilliant and sad. How he loses command of the language, really good way to show that.
Brilliant and sad. How he loses command of the language, really good way to show that.
Brilliant. That was so cleverly written I don't know what else to say. Bravo.
Loved this, I could see/feel/hear it all. Such a true representation as well. I know of a man who began his descent by losing proper nouns first. For instance, he could call his dog 'dog' but not by its actual name. Excellent writing.
Theres a lot of passion behind this and you write with such meaning, as if this is really happening to you. Great piece - one of your best I reckon
An ending like that genuinely terrifies me. I think this perfectly captures how much we take language for granted.
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