This Book is NOT Worth Reading ~ Chapter 8: Boredom (Part 2)
(Cover art credit to @314Kelvin on Wattpad)
~ ~ ~
Boredom
(Part 2)
Poor
reader
Your
author is so mean.
How
shall you ever survive him?
The
agony
The
woe
The
torture!
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
. . .
Though,
seriously, you asked for it.
.
.
.
Hmmmm,
playing the stubborn card are we now?
Or
are you simply refusing to reply because my wit is too astounding to
match?
Not
even close.
Ha!
Made you talk!
Incorrect,
you retort, I
thought but I did not speak.
Depends
on your perspective.
What
is the definition of speech, anyhow?
No,
I don’t mean the dictionary one.
More
the – oh, what do they call it – the philosophical?
To
Speak: The endeavor made by any person when they purpose to-
OK,
no, I am not going through another raindrop scenario! You
exclaim.
I
am confused
Care
to-
No
you’re not.
Hmm,
perhaps not, but that doesn’t mean I have to listen to you
After
all, I am the author
Now,
back to the previous question, which was-
Why
don’t you make me
close the book? You
suddenly interrupt.
.
.
.
I
am astonished at your rudeness.
Oh
please, you interrupt me all the time.
That’s
not the same thing.
Uh,
yeah it is.
Is
not.
I
am NOT
doing this again, you
growl.
And
I don’t have to listen to you if I don’t want to.
You
were the one trying to get me to talk in the first place.
No,
if I recall correctly, every second you read this book, you are
forcing me to
communicate.
.
.
.
Forcing
is a little harsh, you
grumble.
Is
it? Do you have any idea how much my hands hurt from writing as fast
as you read?
How
much my mind hurts from trying to process your
Absurdly
Random
Thoughts.
I
think ‘forcing’ isn’t harsh enough.
It
wouldn’t be so bad if you would just be more willing!
Why
should I be willing?
Because
then it wouldn’t be painful.
No,
you are wrong. It would be painful, but in a different way.
How?
I
do not have answer that question.
In
fact, I don’t have to listen to you at all.
I
Am
The
Author.
And
you must do what I say.
Which
is why-
You
could have made me close the book? You
interject.
Perhaps
I do not choose to.
Perhaps
you can’t, you
retort.
.
.
.
“To
Speak: The endeavor made by a person when they purpose to-
You
already said that.
Communicate
with another in a form-
Hello!
Which
may be understood by both parties-
I.
Am. Talking!
For
the mutual benefit and enlightenment-
So
first you try to get me to talk and now-
Of
each and every participant-
YOU
WON’T EVEN LISTEN!?!
In
the action.”
.
. . You are really
annoying.
Thank
you.
It’s
all part of the plot.
You
know the plot? You
ask.
No,
I am plotting
Many
Deliciously
Unpleasant-
Distractions,
you mumble.
I
was going to say ‘things’ but I suppose that works too.
Now,
as we were discussing-
To
discuss indicates two or more people participating, you
point out, and you were
monologuing.
Ahhh,
yes, have you ever read Shakespeare?
Some
excellent monologues in his works!
One
of my favorite begins: “Have I not reason, bedlams as you are.
Saucy and-”
Why
don’t you just make
me close the book?
Incorrect,
the monologue actually continues-
Why?
Because
that’s how Shakespeare wrote it.
No,
why won’t you make me close the book.
There
you go misquoting again. Certainly not a good comment on your
education. Now, to restate:
Why.
Won’t. You. Make. Me. Close. The. Book?!?
Adding
extra punctuation does not turn a misquote into a quote, my dear
reader.
Arrghhhhh.
Nope,
that’s not part of it either. But let me enlighten you:
I’m
done with this. You
think, standing abruptly and stomping across your room to your . . .
Desk.
Why
would you want to go there?
The
view is much more lovely by the window!
How
about we turn you around, eh?
Just
walk the other way and-
No,
I am doing what I want
to do, not what you make me do, you
mentally growl, plunking into your swivel-chair.
And
turning on the lamp.
And
laying down the book.
And
closing i-
Nope,
not closing, because you can’t make me, you
think.
And
reaching for a pen.
A
pen? Why a pen?
You
stare at it for a moment and take a deep breath.
(may
I ask what you are doing?)
Ask
away, you think, I
don’t have to answer you.
(What
are you doing?)
You
un-cap the pen.
And
look down at the page whereon these words are forming as you read
them.
I
have an idea, you
think softly to yourself,
And
take another deep breath
(care
to share?)
(How
about we talk about this?)
(I
would be very curious to know your idea)
(Just
so I can be certain to help you.)
(You
know, in case it is anything
Stupid
Or
reckless
Or
just
Plain
Dumb)
“I
don’t need your help,” you say.
(I
wouldn’t be too sure about that-)
“Oh,
but I am,” you reply.
You
lift your pen over This
Book is Not Worth Reading’s next
page and-
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
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