Written by realnotperfect. All rights reserved. (Some rights. Credit realnotperfect if shared.)
Valentine’s day | For the LOVE of writing
This was written for two people: one of them motivated me to write this at all.
The other doesn’t need to be named.
FEBRUARY 11
I at least said it politely.
“You can’t make me write a LOVE story.”
Or I tried to say it politely, anyway.
I remember looking at the clock earlier today, at or around 5pm. My English professor still smelled like cigarettes.
I’m writing this on my phone now, because my favorite pen is missing. I keep these notebooks for one reason: I use everything I learn.
From anything, from everywhere, and from everyone; whether I “LOVE” them or I don’t love them.
In fact, it could be exactly the opposite.
He looked at me with his massive, barely-styled beard and brown cap. He was the one who said hats weren’t even allowed in classrooms. His shadow was twice the size of mine (of course it was), but in THE BAD WAY. He was also the one who poked fun at my friends because they liked styling their hair differently, or wore different colors, or because they didn’t openly approve of a teacher’s in-classroom use of recreational drugs.
But that’s all beside the point.
“How on earth are you even a professor?” I mumbled to myself. He didn’t hear me, of course, because he never bothered to listen to anyone.
“You, Elijah,” he said, pointing at me, “are the best writer we have IN THE ENTIRE CLASS.”
Okay, so:
1) My name is not Elijah (but there was no point in telling him that), and
2) I don’t know if I’m the best. I like to write, period. But given the caliber of some of these people and what I saw literally every day, maybe he was right.
And
3) Why would I do something I’m ACTUALLY GOOD AT for someone who doesn’t deserve it?
He continued his loud and unsolicited tirade (just one of many), without checking to see if I was even paying literally any attention. But this was typical of Mr. Sudesh Hepokrates, a professor everyone hated, who said more words than the words he could even understand.
“Write just one love story for the contest,” he yelled more at himself than he did at me, “just one, Elijah, and the entire class wins a trip to Connecticut!”
Excuse me.
Connecticut?
I looked at him. As a student, I was mandatorily forced to show him some kind of respect.
Excuse me, CONNECTICUT?
“Do you understand me, Elijah?” he said. “A free trip for all of us!”
All right, so let’s enumerate my thoughts.
1) UHM NO GO FIND SOMEONE ELSE
2) WHO THE HECK IS ELIJAH
3) Do it yourself! You’re an English professor, right? RIGHT?!
4) I write the following: Music, lyrics, nonfiction, psychological fiction. Which you would literally know by now if you knew how to listen. But it’s clear that you don’t.
5) I tend to write things that are (considered by some) disturbingly savage, and/or sometimes terribly brutal, and
6) You are asking me to write a love story for a Valentine’s day event. A LOVE STORY.
I repeat A LOVE STORY-
7) Given everything, you’re asking me to provide you
with
A
LOVE
STORY
8) FOR A FREAKING VALENTINE’S DAY EVENT?!?!?!!!!
TO WIN A FREE TRIP TO
C O N N E C T I C U T
I know, a lot of thoughts at once.
I looked at the cap on his head while he continued to scream. In red embroidery, it read, “I LOVE THE USA. GO SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL MCDONALD’S.”
Well, he certainly looked like he ate a lot of McDonald’s. I let him scream while I patiently took notes, wrote down song ideas, and sketched cats. It was 5:05 at that point- time to go home- but not while he was still yelling at me inside that Valentine’s day-themed classroom. Pink and red hearts, everywhere. It was a waste of colored paper and trees.
And also, I could have chosen to respond with something like:
a) “Sorry, Mr. Sudesh Hepokrates, but WHY WOULD I CARE IF YOU GO TO CONNECTICUT OR NOT?”
b) “And why exactly would I want to go to Connecticut?”
c) “I thought you said you could afford vacations in Paris and Manhattan; Connecticut is literally across the street,” or
d) “You do realize that Connecticut had more than 97 murders just last year, right?”
I read in a magazine that this year, there have been twelve murders in Connecticut, so far.
I smiled to myself. I liked that last thought. I calmly allowed Mr. Hepokrates to keep yelling at me.
Then I smiled, and I responded with:
“Can I just do a poem, Mr. Hepokrates?”
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
FEBRUARY 12
I love the way you say hello,
but only to feel like you’re heard.
I love your screams from down below;
how you act like things you never earned.
It’s love when it’s all coming back,
the love of all your failed attacks.
You’re mad beyond your line of sight,
but you’re not even worth a fight.
Regret all of your guilts or don’t;
Love will receive the things you won’t.
I love how I can state the fact:
It’s love that you just don’t attract.
Your mind and only habitat,
are just mirrors to throw acid at.
And love would never want to go there,
where everything is your reflection,
where everything has to be you and you and you,
and you.
And I would never want to go where
Your every lie is projection.
Where the only reason you react,
is that it’s true, and that it’s true,
and that it’s true.
And while you talk to yourself some more-
You’ll never be what love can fight for.
It’s love when it’s all coming back,
the love of all your failed attacks.
You’re mad beyond your line of sight,
but you’re not even worth a fight.
Regret all of your guilts or don’t;
Love will receive the things you won’t.
- Danny
February 2024
“Love: The Valentine’s Day Poem (Everything Is Your Reflection)”
FEBRUARY 13
8:07 AM
BRIDGEPORT, CONNECTICUT
I write things a lot shorter and with a lot less detail on this phone. And I should keep this short for myself. I won’t exactly be the one who’ll give out any of the details.
Or will I?
Who said you needed to wait until the 14th to enjoy something you really LOVE?
Mr. Sudesh Hepokrates got exactly what he wanted- a free trip to Connecticut. It looks like my writing skills weren’t too horrible at all. I won another thing, though! I can’t help but smile to myself as I write this.
Thirteen pieces; the 13th on the 13th.
It isn’t headlines that I care for, but this one is a good one. A very short story- but a sweet and very, very poetic one. Literally poetic at that. Mr. Hepokrates won’t be screaming at me anymore.
Don’t ask me how Mr. Hepokrates is going back home in thirteen pieces and in a human remains pouch.
I had nothing to do with it.
Maybe Elijah did.
~
VALENTINE’S 13TH: A VERY SHORT STORY (OH AND ALSO A POEM).
This story was originally released on realnotperfect’s blog on Feb. 10th, 2024.
It was also posted to RoyalRoad.
Written for the Valentine’s day event
by realnotperfect (Danny Mier), author and songwriter.
realnotperfect’s book (The Overwoods) and albums:
tinyurl.com/KarmaIsAThing
youtube.com/realnotperfectofficial
Here is the bonus version from realnotperfect's blogs (with certain parts modified or expanded further, and extra creative bits)!
[https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgtTO6v59YhxXQYE6ZXoe37mGcewQH9LDq7v9YuGWxh6XUtJYwxoyZJcfrZpxzbKN44a3clmuh55tkdeWiIJsCDR5IVMMmOhieiyjriAuETFB1xbIu5imt71UeQFBtJVSedaRCpfFJ6ByfMMp2f5mypM6o5fK79KVR7Tah31xF2aHLBeXCp-GuOrMebQEi9]
[https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiTtUpRqyvKgc527saUhrgvkGP3dSMtYl7LaXykKEMYEAX4M1IdGtXCDMFoz2EHMyNexqIPlCyUx3G36fwKcYgJG7-5H4CwzedaHD9pQn200HbiBfR-ugByo0KrQO98R5Uihi6i8mjSQUknI8n7l5XAPrQugp2sn74hqfAox6u_M76WA21fFtHohq6B-OpS]
[https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjyLU007ID0wPOpoll7V1dJyGTPOc-r_G1zgsVzsiOx7kQV9OA0t2sHRQviWy6SRrUyimSOyiAYcgkjcymyFoTypNqLWk4_q8ii0YR5KgyGs5W-DoRhTeSLPf12A7YyDEYxVHBxDgfyHngSVqZoNmCSgPT8dMCfU7DTCE8tXEYx3gDf_iwrwXWrI9GngNGv]
So, where I live right now, it's 9:56 PM of February 14th, 2024; this will be submitted tomorrow on or around 9am-ish.
I really, really hope I win at least 3rd place! I also made a few changes to "Chapter 1."
[https://realnotperfect506913884.files.wordpress.com/2024/02/workproject2b-1_________v2.png?w=396]
And I will also share this, because it makes me happy:
[https://realnotperfect506913884.files.wordpress.com/2024/02/bloggeroverwoodsranking02132024a.png?w=1024]
[https://realnotperfect506913884.files.wordpress.com/2023/06/neovel-06-17-2023-a.png]
This is a diary now lol.
~