The Kanon

This is an old story I wrote on my phone my sophomore year of highschool. It was saved as a draft in my blog post. I’ve decided to share it with you all. This is The Kanon. Inspired by The Canon in D and the 2006 anime Kanon

 

We sat down at our table.

“Do you know what this song is?” Lori asked me while we waited. “No, I don’t think I do.” I said, shrugging it off.

“Hi, I’ll be your waitress for the evening. Can I get you two anything?” A young waitress asked. “Just two glasses of wine. We’ll be ready to order in a few moments.” I told her.

“Anything else?”

“No…well, I’m Tony and this is Lori,” I said gesturing to my date. “May we know your name, perhaps? I wouldn’t want to be rude and call you ‘you’ the entire time we’re here.”

She giggled and said, “My name is Michelle. Will that be all for now?”

“Yes, thank you very much, Michelle.” She walked away and I looked over toward Lori, who was glaring at me.

She rolled her eyes and said, “You are such a flirt.”

I laughed and replied, “Isn’t that the reason we’re on a date now?”

She ignored me and continued on about the song that was playing. “Like I was saying earlier, this song, it’s called The Kanon, with a ‘K.'”

“The Kanon?” I asked. That sounded vaguely familiar to me.

“Here’s your two glasses of wine, and a bottle to serve yourself. On the house,” She winked. “Are you two ready to order?”

“Yes, I am,” Lori said with a hint of sass. “I would like a T-bone steak with a Caesar salad. And for an appetizer, I would like to try the soup special for today.”

“Okay. And you, Tony? What would you like to order.”

“The same, except I would like grilled chicken in place of the steak.”

“Fries as well?” She offered me.

“Yes. For the both of us.” I said directing my eyes toward Lori.

“Will that be all?”

“Uh, one more thing. A beautiful woman like yourself shouldn’t settle for anything less than you deserve.” I said, smiling. She giggled and was off again.

“Now,” I started, turning my attention to Lori. “What’s so special about The Kanon?” I asked, taking a sip of my wine. “It seems somewhat familiar to me.”

“It should.” She told me. “The Kanon is a simple melody that repeats itself A thousand and one times, but becoming more beautiful each time it’s played. I was sure that you heard it somewhere because it’s the musical representation of Eutopia.”

“Your point being?” I asked, a little more bluntly than I intended.

“Imagine if life was like that; A constant state of euphoria that only gets better with each passing moment.”

The waitress arrived and set down our appetizers and said, “Your order will be ready shortly, Tony.”

“Thank you,” I told her as she walked away.

Lori continued by saying, “Imagine if we, as the human race, could reach a state, equal in the pure amount of bliss that is contained within this song.”

“I see where this is going,” I said, sipping my wine again.

“You’re trying to tell me that it’d be better in life if no one had to experience pain and that once our lives become that of repetition, that we should come to enjoy how we spend each hour of our day. But,” I said, sticking my finger into my wine and stirring it around. “You’re only telling me this because of how miserable I’ve been recently, aren’t you?”

She sighed and took a sip of her wine. Then I sighed myself and said, “But you’re right, you know. You’re right about a lot of things. And that’s why, despite the fact that I flirt around a lot, that you’re the only one I truly love.”

“Oh?” She said, raising an eyebrow. “Did you just admit to the fact that you’re a flirt?”

“I suppose I just did, didn’t I?”

“Yes, I suppose you did.” She said, laughing. “Does that mean you’ll stop?” She asked me.

I dipped my finger in my wine again and licked it, just as the waitress arrived who met my eyes as I did so. “Only if I’ll never see this beautiful woman again,” I said to Lori, eyes still locked with Michelle’s. She blushed and then smiled and hurried away to go seat a family who had just arrived. I laughed and looked back at Lori and said, “Besides, I doubt I could stop if I wanted to. It’s in my blood you know.” She took a sip of her wine and said, “I doubt I could go a day longer without kicking your ass. It’s in my blood, you know, and it’s been such a bother not letting my anger out.”

“And I love you as well,” I said, reaching over to lightly caress her face. I saw her entire body shiver, like a drop of rain falling in the endless sea, and heard her whisper, “If only you knew just how much I loved you.”

We began to eat, silent for a few moments. Lori drained her wine so I poured her another glass. By the time she finished that, she was about to pour herself another when I stopped her.

“What?” She snapped.

I shook my finger at her and said, “No more wine for you; not now anyway.” She was about to say something and then she stopped. She returned to silently chewing her steak when I said, “A thousand and one?”

“Huh?” She asked, confused.

“The Kanon. The same melody a thousand and one times, right?”

She nodded and I asked, “Do you think it’s possible to write the Kanon?”

She looked at me like I was crazy. “This isn’t the type of music that you sing to. You of all people should know that.”

“No no no,” I said, finishing my grilled chicken. “What I mean is, do you think we could write a story based on the concept of the song?”

“We?”

“Point being,” I added quickly. “Do you think we can tell the same story, one thousand and one times, and make it better each time?”

She smiled and said, “I’m not sure, could we? And even then, what would we write about?”

I pondered the question as the waitress came over to give me the bill, and also her number. Before she could ask, I said, “I’ll pay in cash.” And then added, “Anything extra is yours.” and winked. When she went away, I slipped $500 under the bill.

Lori stared at me and I said, “Just a little extra in case she wants to buy herself something.” She sighed, defeated, and then I said, “We can write about this.”

“Erm, giving a waitress a lot of money? Tony, are you high?”

“Not as high as you are apparently,” I said, poking her nose. “What I meant was writing about our evening here. We can call it the Dinner under the Kanon.” I joked. She rolled her eyes, and I said, “But seriously, we could write about this.”

“A thousand and one times?”

“Each story different, not necessarily better. Not even in order. It could be about totally different things, in completely different places, but would always involve us and the waitress in some way or another, always beginning with us getting food, even if different. Hell, our first story could be about us getting McDonald’s.” We laughed, and then I said, “We could call it Distortion. It can be a series of short stories. It’ll be like any other series-“

“Except it’ll be short stories and just be shy of a little more over a thousand.” She interjected.

The waitress came over and took our plates and the bill, but before she could leave I stopped her, gave her a small kiss on her hand and said, “Enjoy your life, beautiful. Enjoy it, for you never know what you’ll become or who you’ll inspire. So don’t just strive to be better, strive to be happy.”

Michelle smiled. Blushing, she whispered back, “Thank you so much.” And then went back to work.

“And for our first story, let’s make the waitress a jealous widow,” Lori said, somewhat like an announcer.

“Only if this is the very last story.”

She thought for a moment, and said, “Alright.” and smiled

Just as we were leaving the restaurant, The Kanon began to play from the very beginning once again.

“Genesis,” I said. “The first fragment of The Kanon,” Lori added.

‘Yes, I really do love her.’

“We sat down at the table. ‘Do you know what song this is?’ Lori asked. ‘No, I don’t think I do…'”

 

Sabotage – Idle Thoughts

There are the things we know we should do, and then there are the things we do. Oftentimes, the things we do are not in alignment with what we should. I don’t mean to insinuate that everyone is a failure who can’t handle their own responsibilities. What I do mean is that we tend to sabotage ourselves when it comes to doing things that lead to happiness. Just think about that for a moment. We all have vices. These guilty pleasures do make us happy, but at a cost. We trade a different kind of happiness for this moment of escape, even if we only feel worse immediately afterward. Especially if we feel worse afterward….

Why do we as human beings continuously do that? Cashing out on simple pleasures when we know we will only feel worse in the morning. Risking a job for 5 more minutes of sleep; risking a relapse in celebration of breaking a bad habit; taking a big break for a little effort that you know amounts to nothing. It doesn’t matter how you justify it. If you feel the guilt riveting in your soul, then you understand what I’m talking about. Whether you care to admit it or not is another thing altogether.

I think it’s necessary though, that pain. It’s easy to get lost in short-term pleasures that abandon us in our times of need, but sacrificing everything for that one moment of joy is just as detrimental. All things in life require balance. Humans just aren’t that good at balancing things. We tend to operate at the most extreme ends at any cost, and it wears on us collectively. So many of us still have many dreams and desires that seem impossible because we refuse to change the way we think. We are cynical creatures, but we don’t have to be. I’m not saying believing that today will be better than yesterday will make it better, but it won’t make it worse. Sometimes we just need to remember that these moments will pass. Sometimes we need to remember that we aren’t these moments, no matter how much we believe it… And that’s okay.

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Fall in

Fall into life some days. No need for practice or patience; just fall. Awkwardly, like a child attempting to walk. Like yourself attempting to walk so long ago.

All of us were once children. Innocent and curious. We were eager to experience that which the world had to offer us. Snowflakes that melted onto our noses, ovens that mother scolded us for getting too close to, other humans that were as tiny as we were. Other little children with big eyes and tiny hands, just as eager to explore the world as we once were. Just like us, they came into this world fumbling around, stomping furiously at the earth to claim their ability to walk no matter how many times they fell down. None of us studied or practiced walking; none of us waited until it was the right time to walk. We wanted to do so, and so we did. Granted we may have fallen and hurt ourselves a few times and cried a few times more. But, here we all are: walking.

So why we prevent ourselves from achieving new goals? Why is it that everyone is working towards their dreams, but few are living it? I refuse to believe that only some people are capable and others are not. If that were true, it’d be common to see people crawling around on the streets, waiting for the perfect time to attempt to stand. I hope that image in your mind is as ridiculous as it sounds because that’s honestly what is happening right now at this very moment. People are crawling around, waiting for the right time to claim their dream. The crawling itself isn’t bad. Before we fly we must first crawl. The frustration lies in this fact: Very few people attempt to walk, for fear of falling down and looking like an idiot. What we need to understand is that it’s okay to fall. Falling is actually quite necessary. You wouldn’t know what not to do if you didn’t fall flat on your ass as a child. There are some things you just won’t learn until you attempt to do something for yourself.

Of course, as we get older, we learn that we can avoid pain by treading precariously in paths already paved out for us. In fact, it’s perfectly fine to learn from the mistakes of others so that you don’t repeat them. What you can’t learn from others, though, is the experience. To be authentic, one must earnestly display qualities that could not be manufactured by society but are instead achieved through hard work and grit. Truthfully? That isn’t always a pretty process. I fell down as a child. I have scars on my body from playing sports too hard or making stupid decisions. But do I regret it? Of course not. I don’t regret falling over a few times as a child because now I can stand proudly on my own two legs. The only attribution I need to give in regards to my ability to walk is to myself. For all of you, it’s the same. We made our success through our own hard work, and that is truly wonderful. We crawl, we stand, we step, we run, we fall. Today we may fall flat on our asses, but tomorrow we will soar.

 

Summer’s upon us

It’s almost summer. Not exactly my favorite season, but it’s the time of year where academia is often set aside in favor of making memories. A precious time that I think we should all spend heeding to the natural process of a typical school calendar. The weather is nicer, nature is in full bloom; there really isn’t anything bad about the summer– save for the excessive heat, the fact that it’s not spring, etc.

But, that’s beside the point. School has been an excuse for me to not do a great deal of things that I’ve a passion for. Writing, for one, has been on a hiatus since last winter. Work, combined with school and the many changes in life that occur around this point in a person’s life, often kept me pretty busy. Whenever I did have time to write, I was either depressed or focused on indulging in some sort of time-wasting activity in exchange for instant gratification. And if any of the previous conditions mentioned happened to be false? Well, for those moments, I don’t really regret the time of writing I lost. I’ve made more friends and acquaintances to become a part of my life narrative. I’ve spent time developing as a person through the diversity of opinions. I’ve spent time sulking, but I’ve also spent time being picked back up by loose words of inspiration others tossed about, unbeknownst to them. I’ve been inspired by a collaboration of moments that I have experienced in the last year. Obviously, we all change, but I’ve seen the changes directly affect some of my writing.

Now that I’m a little older and have a job and some money under my belt, I have less excuses to not do the things that I am passionate about, I’ve no excuse to let words and moments slip by, lost in the trickle of time. I’ve no excuse to let my goals be restricted to the tick and tock of the clock, and I’ll be damned if I let a few of my fears stop me from experiencing the world.

But, I really just wanted to write something at this very moment because I have the chance to do so. Often, I realize, I’ve had the chance to do so many things. Every day I waste previous minutes that could be spent being productive and splashing my mental ink; the task that is desired isn’t always the one that I should be dwelling on, but I’d be a fool to not acknowledge that I’ve let the idea of the future keep me from making it happen right here and right now.

It’s good to be back on the pages.

Until next time.

Words Unfiltered: Nightly writing

I think I’ll start doing my writing at night from now on. It flows better with my schedule. I have the time then, and I’m often up. My insomnia is back, more or less, to varying degrees. However, it’s nothing serious. I still sleep better than I used to. Of course, there is a pile of drafts saved in my WordPress that I just changed to scheduled. No one probably believes me though. You’ll see when you see, that’ll be my proof. But let’s talk about something else. I’ve been enjoying school. It’s a little difficult, but only really because of my poor study habits. Sure, there are topics that are hard to grasp, but I try at the very least. I usually am able to absorb information more or less with ease. It’s been about 4 weeks of school so far? I like it. I mean, I haven’t been able to do some of the things I like, but that’s more so my fault more than anything, right?

As I said earlier, my insomnia is back, though not as bad as it used to be. I manage to get around 4-5 hours of sleep at least, though I can average 6-7 during the week now. I’m often up until around 1 in the morning though. I don’t think it affects me too much, considering I’ve been able to force myself to sleep until about 11 on the weekends sometimes.* That also reminds me, I’ve been having some strange semi-lucid dreams as of recent.

I’ve been doing math and chemistry during my state of half consciousness while I’m still asleep, but am aware of dreaming and near awakening. I can say that it is a direct impact of me practicing and making sure I am ready for my exams and quizzes in college for sure. However, I’m not too sure how useful it is. I know the chemistry I was doing last night wasn’t making much sense (though it did vaguely relate to the work we are currently doing). I wonder if I’ll do it again tonight. I can say that the dreams themselves were random, but I was consciously trying to solve problems by the time I was getting read to wake up.

Huge topic change, but I can do that; I’ve revisited this game called ingress. For those of you who don’t know what it is, look it up. Maybe I’ll make a post about it sometime later, but not now. Right now? it’s 12:37 in the morning, and I have a chemistry lab at 8:35 am. I’m listening to Pandora, and preparing to lay down and hopefully enjoy my thoughts. That’s always the hardest part of going to bed.  I won’t delve into that now though. Once you get the bad thoughts rolling, they keep on coming throughout the night.

I’ve missed writing. And I’ve missed you all. I’m trying

Until tomorrow, or next time, whichever comes first.

*I don’t know if I mentioned this (probably not), but it’s almost virtually impossible for me to sleep past noon. My body can’t handle laying in bed for so long, and by the time it’s 11, my mind has been spurring so much that the sleep wasn’t all too useful anyway.

Words Unfiltered: The past is the past, isn’t it?

So I put on the Sir Sly station on Pandora. I was about to start writing a short story, but whatever song it was that came on first had me thinking about the past. You know, you never really think things are going to ever truly be over until they are over. All the good and the bad. I mean, thinking back on it, I’m not sure how much of things there was that I really enjoyed. It pales in comparison to the few good moments. Not that there was never any good, it’s just that the time where good was the overwhelming majority, it didn’t seem to last long.

Life used to be so simple when I was young. I’d go to school, come home, and play games. I didn’t know much of the world aside from the bit I learned in school, which wasn’t much, and the walls that surrounded me each and every day. To me, the world was simply the name of the place I lived. My address was important, but the world was where my address was located.

I had a fish once. Her name was Goldie. As you can probably guess, she was a goldfish. I also had a dog once. I’m not sure if she was a golden retriever or if she was a mixed breed. She probably was a mixed breed. Her name was Cocoa. My great aunt died one time while I was in the house where I had my dog before I moved and before I really understood what death was. I woke up to my cousin Shine crying and crying. Her and my father were in my great aunt’s room. She had just came back home from the hospital the night before. I remember my dad going out to help her up the stairs.* She died that next morning. I remember at the funeral my father couldn’t stop crying. I didn’t understand much, but I knew that he was sad. I went up to him and rubbed his back as he cried and told him that everything would be okay.

My goldfish Goldie was a birthday gift that I chose over a party that my mother had planned for me. I don’t know how long I had the fish, nor do I remember how old I was when I got it, but It was all my responsibility. You see, my father has schizophrenia. It doesn’t affect him because he takes his medication, but this was during a period of time where he stopped taking it for a little while. In his augmented reality, for whatever reason, he needed to flush my goldfish down the toilet. I was terribly sad. I was…devastated. I started crying and I just could not stop. I kept crying and crying and crying. This was sometime after my birthday.

I wasn’t sure where I was going with this, as I never do with my writing, but I understood the true sadness my dad felt for the first time. I’m not sure if I really understood death at this point, but I understood that what I had was gone. People had been gone before, and we had to get rid of our dog before we moved, but this is the first time I had witnessed something being taken from me right in front of me.

The world is, for lack of a better world, weird. It’s always been either really small, or seemingly massive, and it never ceases to be either or at random times. The internet opened up the world to me, but there are just times where I feel lonely. With something as powerful as the internet at my disposable, you’d think that I always feel connected to some place or that I’d never really feel alone, but…I don’t know. It’s just, looking back, I realize that certain things are over and that they are over for good. All that’s left are memories of them, and sometimes, we can never really understand why those things happened or if it even mattered at all in the end.

I guess, that was all I really wanted to say.

Until tomorrow, or next time, whichever comes first.

*A note for myself that you all get to view, but I’m going to talk about how the world can feel like a cage and how it can feel huge at the same time.