with all my little 'projects' existing here and there, engaged or not, there are some i start that i just don't want to continue... for the reasons:
1) i get bored of them.
2) the suck. something awful.
3) i can only justify it by compromising my better wishes for myself.
there are some projects that are surely pending, but there are several that are blatantly discontinued. one thing happened to be:
'continue a train of thought all the way into a short story'.
story #1.
"'...with that, i give you the rights to my mustache.' he joked, laughingly. what clever gift was this, that he could provide with a mere picture and thought instead of purchasing something physical and valuable for his friend. they would laugh together about it, how cheap he was, and how overly grateful HE was, how the best gifts are free and how commerce is a bitch.
but that isn't what happened.
'cool, that is all i need.' HE claimed, suffocatingly. he found that kind of odd, but thought nothing of it. a few days later he received a letter in the mail from HIS lawyer, stating that any tampering with or shaving of 'said mustache' would result in a lawsuit. following the threat of law-action was a list recording what HE was entitled to as the owner to the mustache rights; that once a month, an image was to be presented to the beholder of rights to ensure maintained integrity of 'said mustache'. along with the month-month documentation, any compliment of 'said mustache' was to be written down and sent to the rights owner, as HIS self esteem had been waining as of late and liked to hear kind things about HIS mustache. HE also claimed the ability to boast back at the public about how wonderful HIS mustache was, and had full access to posting it's image within the public domain.
'wow. i love my friend' he thought, admiringly. what a clever game he had turned this gift into. the signatures were sure concerning though. watermarked and stamped with judge-given authority... this document sure seemed like the real deal. instantly something inside him began to brew. he thought it felt a bit like... hatred... but he couldn't be sure. he deducted it best to just leave the mustache be, and continue on living his life in the manner of a well groomed mustached man. confident. resourceful. beneficial to the aesthetic qualities of common man. weeks went by and no change seemed to have occurred within any realm of his life. his concern over the legitimacy of the letter remained, but so did the skepticism of the friend actually having taken the time to doctor up the plans for establishing dominance over his own mustache. the time had come for some facial accessory change, and he delegated to himself the responsibility of shaving it off. for some sporting fun, he took a picture of his wondrous creation and sent it away to be jokingly gawked at. he even threw in a few mock compliments in order to 'maintain the integrity' of the agreement. 'that was fun while it lasted' he concluded, playfully.
promptly a few days later he received a return letter, a less official one than the surely fake lawyered document, but with a certain weight of authority nonetheless. 'i'm glad you are doing what you are told. this pleases me.' HE had written, somewhat devoid of emotion and brotherly warmth. by this time he was fairly into his mustachless insignificance, and thought this was being taken a little too far. but with a little neglect and careful ignorance it would all fade and pass and this tiresome joke would cease to exist. which is exactly when he began to notice things that were.. out of place in their familiarity.
his uncomfortably became a rigid presence of paranoia as he began to witness street signs, hoodies on the youth, advertisements, all laden with the distinct image of his mustache. barber shops were offering his style, low price, satisfaction guaranteed for his emulated facial hair"
blah blah blah BLAH i got bored of myself and where this story WASN'T going. i hereby decided these stories are better left in my head for noone to read and for no resolution to be found. i was all stoked because i was going to end it with
"he would never listen to her again about how good he looked with facial hair."
and then feel clever about how we are driven to crazy situations to please the ones we are trying to impress.