How the Guitar Came To Be

How the Guitar Came To Be

Once upon a time, there was a woodcarver.
This woodcarver was the greatest of all lands, & had carved things for many people.

He had created houses, tables, chairs, beds, spoons & toys, and all other manner of things you can think of for the people of the land. He was always very proud of his work, knew his skills were envied far and wide, and yet unfortunately, the man was restless.
He had been searching for his whole life, high & low, for real understanding of truth, beauty, & love, and he had yet to find it within his life’s work.

Screenshot from 2018-07-04 04-15-11One day, as he was gathering fine wood materials in the forests by his home, he stumbled upon the Faery Queen, whom he had heard many great things about.

“Oh, Miss Faery Queen, may I please have a moment of your time?” He begged her, getting his nose right down next to the flower she was traveling upon.
She looked up, startled for a moment, that an adult human was speaking to her! But then, she knew this must be a very special man, to be able to seek the help of the Queen of all the Faeries.

“Yes, my wonderful child, what is it that you must speak with me about?” she asked, gently.

“Oh, Miss!” He cried, mournfully. “I have been faithful to my life’s work for a very long time, and I know that through your work, you should try to find fulfillment, but Miss, I regret to admit that I have yet to truly experience true beauty, truth, or love, and I must say, I would very much like to find out about those things before my bones become too weary to travel your lands.” He bowed his head and tears started to form in the corners of his eyes.

The Queen gazed with love upon the old man and smiled tenderly.

“Good Sir, here’s what I will tell you. There is an old cat in these forests, and he was once a mighty cat, king of all others. Find him, and tell him I sent you on a journey and that you shall be needing his help. He will help you, & tell you what you must do next.”

The old man felt his heart swell with joy and he graciously thanked the Faery Queen as she continued on her way.

He continued deeper on into the forest, not quite sure which direction to go, but trusting that he was on the proper path, and soon, he came upon a great, golden cat, with long strands of silvery hair, blazing outward like the sun greeting the morning horizon.

The cat looked as though he was sleeping, and his breath was heavy and slow.

The man got up close to the cat’s ear and whispered softly.

“Good King of the forests, the Faery Queen has sent me on a journey, and she thought you might help. I do not wish to disturb you, so please, take your time with me.”

The great cat lifted a mighty head and gave a long look deep into the man’s eyes.

“I have what you are searching for.” The King said, slowly.

“You must go back to your village, and for three days, you must carve a large rosewood tree into the finest carving your abilities can produce. After you are finished, take this gift I will give you, and stretch it along the wood tightly, secure it, and dry it in your kiln. Once you do this, you will know the true meaning of beauty, truth, and love.”

With that, the great cat’s jaws opened wide, & the man removed the Forest-King’s gut, packing it securely in his satchel.

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The man returned home, and did as the Queen & King had instructed.

After four days, he opened his kiln to see what had been produced.
As he opened the fire-oven, the wind rustled into the open space, and soon a vibrating tone like none other the man had heard before came whispering past his ears.

Immediately entranced, the old man picked up the delicate wooden carving with its vibrating chords, resting it in his lap gently. His deeply-weathered hands moved with a life of their own, plucking the strings slowly at first, but deeply, and eventually he was playing loud & wide, the haunting tones echoing throughout the hills & valleys of the great lands he lived within.

After a few days, a crowd had gathered, all who listened were held in pause at the beauty seemingly coaxed out of their very own souls.

Finally, after a week of playing, the man broke down and heaved great wails and sighs that could be heard for miles. “What is it!” The people cried, “That pains you so much? How could it be;” They enquired, curiously, “That you have played something so beautiful, yet you are haunted by its very sounds?”

The old man smiled through his tears and reassured them all.
“I don’t cry out of sadness, or despair, but rather a great veil has been lifted, and now!, Ah, Now I see…that these notes are in fact my own soul’s song…and I have known true beauty, truth, and love all along…I simply had never stopped to listen to its tune.”
He looked down at the instrument in his hands.

“This will forever be a tool to reconnect people to their own heart.
When people place their fingers upon these chords, may they always feel the truth radiate from their souls.”

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How the Guitar Came To Be

Changes In The Way We Did Business

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It…she…it…it….she told me to stand…where it pointed….and ….Man, I don’t know why I fucking went over there man but I did and it…she…she pulled..my insides out…I felt ripped apart… like there was no coming back, I was dead and gone… Man, I didn’t even see a weapon, one second she was standing with her hands out, the next, I was screaming, I can’t…I can’t even go back there man….you can’t make me go back. I don’t know what happened to Ron, but fuck it man, fuck handsit.

I feel different, I can’t….really explain, it’s like I’m not allowed to know what’s happening…

…why are you looking at me like that man? …dude…DUDE! calm down! I’m not trying to HURT you! MAN!

CALM……DOWN!!!…….c…cal…calm down man…stop bleeding…..

Changes In The Way We Did Business

The Glitch

“I’ll let you fuck me if you steal a pack of smokes and some chips” She said.

I didn’t move.

She was the most popular girl in school, and thank god we go to school, we had to do a project together for midterm and she showed up at my house and now what the FUCK did she just say..?”

I couldn’t move.

She isn’t even looking at me, its like that didn’t even just happen.

“…well..?”
She says it so rudely.
My initial shock is wearing off.
I fast-forward into the futureland and see what could occur.
Of course, I had known all along that she was just another enemy spy sent by them…but I always have hope…you never know where you might find an ally.
“You have to go.” I say.

I turn around and leave. It’s better not to kill them if you can avoid it.

The Glitch

The Maybe

She never had a face.

Where others had skin she had thoughts.
words.
meanings.
intention.
interaction.

satiation.
hunger.

She was a maybe.
She tried, she tired of trying to become a face….one face.
She watched others…. she saw their moments all at once and tried to capture each one but just kept producing masks.

she tried to force herself to become……a person.
But….the fact that she couldnt never bothered her, she discarded her masks as fast as she created them.

She was a probably…..a maybe…a hasnt happened yet and a was never did.
And she never bothered.
But Probably.

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The Maybe

The Fishwoman

As she put the old, time-stained kettle on the stove, her throat swelled shut & another wave of heat filled her where gills should have been.

She had dreams of being a fish.
She never cared to wonder where the dreams came from, they just did.

Like her husband.

The fishwoman never had a certain direction, and always ended up caught in a thick, rough straw net. It never bothered her, not even when they would filet her alive and leave her wet & bleeding life… rent upon their decks.

Nothing ever seemed to bother her, asleep or awake, she just kept swimming.
But her blood boiled & bubbled underneath the skin, causing bends where thoughts should have been.

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The Fishwoman

Elephants Chasing Moths

I tried to follow her.
Well, no, I tried to catch up to her.

I first saw her in a downtown bar, but she wasn’t typical.
I was sitting in a corner…trying harder to look like a struggling writer in a bar than actually trying to write. I looked up to survey if anyone had noticed me, and instead I noticed her.

She had cold air hooked into her like a fog machine, and she ordered two shots of tequila, an american beer, and downed all three as if she was on stage at a talent show.

She paid in crumpled cash and rattled change, twisting and stomping out of the place like a bass note.

As soon as she left, I felt her absence choking me. I pushed my papers together, fumbled with my worn leather wallet, threw way more than enough money down and blundered after her…elephants chasing moths.

She was a mote in the distance, the tracks framing her perfectly in my memory.
I tried to catch up, but I knew there was no catching her.
You either ran on her time or not at all.

I wonder if she lives on those tracks….or if they’re only a way home.

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Elephants Chasing Moths

The Visionary

“There was a time…there was a time…there was a time…”
The words echoed and repeated infinitely, digging into the veins of the space and inhabiting the air like thick tar.His face pulls at itself, a tic beginning in the neck, distorting the skin & opening the mouth into a half-snarl, teeth flashing briefly. The intensity causes an arm to raise, fingers reduced to grotesque, disproportionate claws.

He could see the birth of the universe.
The golden threads, the shifting diamonds, the colors that lit his skin on fire.
He was awake for the first time in millennia.

As he lay dying on the sidewalk, a child watches him from inside her mother’s apartment, eating ice cream & dreaming about the snow.

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The Visionary