“Chad! Yo, wake up!”
I had found myself asleep on the beach--a practice that I had almost made into a ritual over the course of the last three months. The beach was special in that regard--it made being homeless seem easy. More than once I had thought of just living on Miami Beach, begging tourists for beers, fighting seagulls for pieces of bread, and just sleeping on the sand and bathing in the warm night water. Unfortunately I found myself better than such actions. One of the truest things I had ever read in a college textbook was the fact that men -from a very early age- already have an established sense of self worth that cannot be effected by the actions of others. We have a very strong sense of where we are on the food chain, we can doubt if we’re right…but we’ll either settle for less or be happy with more. A man’s required amount of respect is very apparent from the day he finally decides to stop sucking on his mother’s breast.
I fumbled over and stared at my friend, squinting my eyes in the state of drunkenness mother nature gives to you as soon as you wake up. The eerie feeling of knowing exactly where you are but having absolutely no sense of where your mind is at…
“What man?”
“The waves bro! They’re coming in super strong, let’s hit the water! It’s hot as fucking balls right now.”
I blamed Muse on the fact that moments later I was jumping into waves and getting pushed around by the ocean like the 125lb mound of flesh I was. The idea that when I was with my friends I was Invincible was directly perpetrated by them. The fact that we could fight one another, run up and down for hours getting beaten up by the very forces of nature, and eat fattening foods and still say I was fine. It was directly their fault.
It’s sad to say, but almost every bad decision you will ever make in your life is enabled by your friends.
You don’t think it, there is a joy with believing that every decision you make is your own. That you’re a leader and everyone surrounding you is a follower. Being pushed around the waves, I couldn’t help but realize how false that was. The waves were dictating my movements, but we were clearly in different classes. Isolating yourself from your own comrades is a very real practice as we’re all inclined to think that we’re either lower or of a higher class than the people we hang with. We compare every aspect of our being to the people we consider allies and we pick things we’re better at than them to hold on to. The people on the beach were better looking than me, they were making more money than me, and they were overall happier than me -- but I was smarter than them, so upon my own little island I sat content.
I thought as I continued to chase waves under the illusion of friendship that I was always isolating myself from them in some ways.
When I laughed at their jokes but really thought of my own troubles; When I disvalued their own relationships and hyped up my own shallow nonexistent ones; When I belittled their life experience and marginalized their sadness in comparison to my own. A personal obsession with being right, a sad fact was that even though we had taken this trip to achieve some sort of communal enlightenment…I was being selfish.
The truth was that examining my own island on my own was far more important than being on an island with four other just as confused men.
I rose from the waves, breathing heavily. My friends continued chasing after the crashing torrents with the utmost fervor, but I guided myself to the beach and plopped myself down on the sandy towel I had brought with me. I cupped my face with my hands and then turned my gaze to the sea…
Alone on the beach, Soldiers Key never felt so small.
Chad, you have a good sense of timing. The beats you place in your writing are effective; this comes out in your other posts, too. You have a nice cadence with your sentences.
ReplyDeleteI like your endings, which consist of single sentences that appear to sum up the entire work. This is what I tend to do myself and you know it's because that is an effective way to end a piece.
Most importantly, you seem to learn more about yourself and what you want in life as the post goes on. This is evident in your other writings. It's great that you use the medium as a way to collect your thoughts and better yourself; that's how I use it, too.
In regards to this being an experiment in narrative as opposed to expository writing, I'm afraid it's still completely expository. You have dialogue (actually, one instance; the other times are just characters making a statement with no response) but it doesn't seem to have much purpose. It takes us into the world for just one second since that is where we have the most action; the waves rushing on, getting near the island.
You use your prose to discuss the issues at hand. The entire piece is spent in a metaphysical discussion that deals with women, comparisons with other people, the exact meaning of the barracuda, etc. I've got to throw a cliché at you: you tell instead of show.
First of all, you need a story. A narrative narrates a story; you have none. Getting to the island might seem like it, but it's very insignificant since you spend so little time on that. Second, you need characters. The four friends serve no purpose other than to be a springboard for a discussion on how everyone has an issue. Keyword: discussion.
I would venture to say this is an event you experienced at one point. You actually did all this. Part of what clues me into it is that your main character is literally you because you use the name Chad and because the writing is expository. I'm not saying to change the name, but to consider it. Even when writing a narrative concerning events and problems you experienced, you need to create a new world with new characters that reflect the real one.
A good expository piece it is, but a narrative it is not.
By the way, if I could offer some non-writing advice? Certain places tend to breed the same kind of people. There's a wide variety of places that in turn instill people with new characteristics. At the same time, there is such a diverse amount of people in the world that there's never a reason to generalize. If the women you and your friends come across behave similarly, remember that it could be because of the city you're in and the society inhabiting it. There are different ones in different places; just remember that.
Hopefully this was helpful. Good luck with your next work.
I think that what's killing me is my overall weakness in narrative, I need a purpose in my writing. The piece isn't over yet, but I agree I need to work out of my own expository bubble...
ReplyDeleteThe trick for me is finding out how to do all of that--without compromising the theme of the actual piece.
I'd hate to say it, but over the course of two days you're the third person who has told me that in someways...this city and my own personal investment in it is holding me back. I don't want to be so arrogant and think that it's pointless, but maybe traveling is something I should do...something I should earnestly think about doing...
Who knows, thanks for the words of wisdom Javi, I always take pleasure in you reading and analyzing my often all too personal work.