nos
💎 x16
Feb 22, 2017 12:44 AM
r, politely, a moment of your time; please, if you have it. Though who does these days? This crazy world seems to move faster and faster, day by day. Sometimes, I get so lost in it.
My apologies. Curtly, let me impose upon you an inquiry concerning a curiosity I did witness inside a jolly good match of Combined Arms. No, I insist on spelling Combined Arms out for purposes of inclusivity to all the novices of our most braggart of abbreviations. This inclusivity is a promise I made to my dying aunt who I'm sure is looking down upon us from that place in the sky. I think it's called an airplane. Oh, she is not dead yet, but we're all dying, are we not? I just thought I would mention that.
In any case, I want to make another unwarranted mention of a random soul by the name of C.L.G. Doublelift, who I am sure is meant be a colonel if not for the corrupted prefix before his name. And this is another reason I am steadfastly against abbreviation. Oh, don't get me started. You are getting me started, please. STOP. Oh, you tortuous starter! A lake of fire awaits you after our slow, mortal deaths!
Anyhow, my intermittent and pointless encounter with Colonel G. Doublelift was peppered with those of another seemingly quarrelsome man I knew from my youth. Someone with whom I believe you should be well acquainted..? Ah, yes, I speak of your fortuitous confidant and lover whose name not be uttered. Kaze. The name uttered, the lightning strikes!
Yes, I do suspect your friend to masquerade as that daring colonel but it's of little consequence and I will take my suspicion to the grave (to which we are all headed, as a friendly reminder.) Honestly, I'll probably forget this strangely coherent, yet surprisingly drunken correspondence by next Tuesday. Such is life.
No, I write to you about something else.
Kaze was always a good shot, I'll give him that.. which makes my most recent encounter with him all the more perplexing. Simply, he was dreafully awful. If I didn't know better I'd say he was an impostor or a fraud, though I hesitate to do so, as saying those sorts of things at an inopportune time tends to get one shot. Though, surely not by this doppelganger of a KaZe, he couldn't have hit a barn door on the side of, oh, a barn door on the side of.. He couldn't hit a barn door with a rake or something, how does that go? He couldn't hit a barn door with.. well, any sort of antique weaponry, I must say. Though, that is a rather unfair illustration to make about him. He should be allowed access to right and proper modern weaponry, of course.
Hoho, I digest, not knowing the reason for my digestion! This veil of time shrouding my vision! This ruinous and disheveled veil from the cheapest of bridal shops made from discounted fabric bartered for in a seedy Hobby Lobby down by the piers. This barbaric, capricious veil strangling my thought and smothering my perceptions!
My mind fading, just like that night.
Maybe it was my desire to see the yacht of my unrequited nemesis scuttled on the shore of apparent mediocrity. Or maybe it was the alcoholic elixir I had conjured from a bottle of vanilla extract and Listerine.
I can't say.
But it was not the Kaze I once knew, that much I can say. Though, perhaps I never knew him at all. Our myriad jostlings offering no insight beyond the facade of our aliases. How well can we know others when we barely know ourselves?
Well, perchance, you can shed some light on this matter, my dearest Z. You always were a good chap, whatever the hell that is. I would cover my nose if I were ever to sneeze in your company. And that's what I call a friend. Someone that will endeavour to not blow snot and mucus upon you from their protuberance of a nose.
And thus, in ironic paradox, let us pause for a few moments in mourning for the loss of time spent reading these scraps of text. Though, as Bertrand Russell (who is completely dead now and has perished from this earthen sphere, so shall we all) did relate: It's not wasted time if it's time you enjoyed wasting.
I am sorry for wasting your time.