A Journey of Sorts

[Nightscape]

I took a walk today, in the meadows of Bartlesville.  After walking for hours, I was exhausted, but I happened to come upon an old woman who was feeding her puppy doggie biscuits.  She said to me "You there, do you have a light?", and I responded, "No, sorry old woman."  Suddenly her eyes flashed with rage.  "How dare you speak to me in such a tone!  I could report you!".  Unscathed, I continued walking.  After about twenty minutes, I saw an enchanted spring pond in the midst.  Since no one was watching, I undressed and waded in.  To my surprise, the pond was unusually deep.  Fortunately, I had remembered to pack my scuba gear.  I got out and outfitted myself, then prepared for an underwater journey.

As I delved deeper and deeper into the conspicuous pond, I noticed that the water was turning redder and redder by the minute.  Only until I nearly reached the bottom did I find this source of this mystery - it was littered with mangled, decapitated bodies!  Needless to say, I escaped from the pond as quickly as I could.  As I surfaced, I noticed a strange man was rummaging through my pack, and all the while grunting and squealing like some demented farm animal.  "You there, hilbilly, step away from the backpack!".  "Never!", he cried in a foreign tongue.  Of course, since it was a foreign tongue, I mistook what he said as an insult.  As you may know, I don't respond well to insults. 

I proceeded to wield a baseball bat from my undergarments and struck the crazed hobo down like a tar baby.  Despite his pleas for mercy, I was unrelenting in my assault.  Soon, horrible bruises began to show on his skin, and blood began to flow from all of his bodily orifices.  Within minutes he was dead, a lifeless husk barely recognizable as human.  I then took the body and tossed it into the pond, where it could rest with a trove of others like it.

My thirst for bloodshed had been satiated, and now I was more hungry than anything else.  I took out my cell phone and dialed a random number, hoping it might be some sort of chef.  The phone rang, and the answerer had a pleasant and cordial tone.  "Hello..."  Actually, now that I think about it, it was more of a sensual voice.  "Yes,  I was wondering if I could get some kind of pizza or something delivered to the enchanted spring pond out in the meadows of Bartlesville?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, we only deliver to Pawhuska".  "That's alright, I'll just try someone else then."  But as I hung up, a great eagle swept down from the skies!  I dodged the eagle, missing it only by millimeters.  As I took a closer look at the eagle, I realized that this was no ordinary eagle.  This was the Golden Eagle of Vicrum!  Alas, the great rare bird I had been searching for my entire life!  I jumped to my feet and chased after the bird with all of my energy.

Panting, sweating, exfoliating.... but no matter how hard I ran, I couldn't catch up with the bird.  After all, this is the Golden Eagle of Vicrum we're talking about.  I was so exhausted from the chase, that I decided to lie down and take a brief nap.  I had the weirdest dream.... but I'll tell you about that some other time.

[pianonut]

and i thought i was nuts!  nightscape, do you always carry around a baseball bat in your underwear?  is it some sort of macho thing?

[Nightscape]

and i thought i was nuts!  nightscape, do you always carry around a baseball bat in your underwear?  is it some sort of macho thing?

No, it's just really handy when I need to clean my teeth.

[pianonut]

clean your teeth?  i'm confused. you're not the student with the hard problem?  that would explain everything!

ok.  i have a serious question.  was working the chopin ballade #2 (dedicated to robert schumann) and was told to imagine a smooth lake (playing the first part as smoothly as possible).  when you wrote this story, i thought 'yes, here's the plot to the whole thing.'  chopin learns that at the bottom of the lake are people dead from a war (could this be true?) and then the whirlwind part whips up at m. 47.

was also wondering if the first part of the ballade could be telling a story about how, despite his extremely passionate side, chopin was complimenting (and not deriding) schumann (even though schumann's part is somewhat easier, and chopin's is rather difficult).  it reminds me of the fact that schumann had a home and family (away from war-torn poland) and the first part is sort of a homey scene wherever schumann lived with his family, and the second part a reality check of what chopin actually lived through (making schumann a little bit less 'jealous' and more understanding of chopin) and his self-imposed exile to france made him even more alone.  used to think chopin was rather negative, but i suppose that from all he went through, he actually was an extremely strong person to keep composing and not malign people as they often did him.

fact is often stranger than fiction, and your story made me think of this.