Welcome to Stephane TV.
Ladies and gentlemen, this is your Captain speaking.
Crackle of static. A flash of light- A flash of light. "Thank you for tuning in. We have a very special show for you today. Today, I'm going to talk to you about love."
Camera zoom. Monitors in the background flash red. No, no... Too obvious. Red isn't love. Red is passion. No. Green... Blues. Swirls of all colors. A kaleidoscope of every color imaginable. Love isn't one feeling.
Fear. Anger. Hope. Frustration.
Sadness. Rejection.
Fulfilment. Happiness. One moment of happiness.
"They'll tell you that love is just a series of chemical reactions in the brain. But I'm here to tell you, it's much more complex than you could ever imagine."
Music building, starting off slow, building- building into something extraordinary. Building, tightening, swelling behind my ribcage.
In dreams, emotions are overwhelming.
There is nothing extraordinary about this chair. The chair I am sitting in. The sun filters down through the leaves, making patterns on the tabletop. I am collecting beautiful things, but I would have to pluck the sun out of the sky to collect this beauty. A rocket. I could build a rocket into space, further than anyone else has been able to travel. I could pluck the sun out of the sky...
but then there would be only darkness.
My coffee tastes like dirt. I spit onto the sidewalk and a little blob of mud seeps into the concrete. The cup is filled with sand and I pour it out into the bushes.
Now I need a refill.
[OOC: Stephane is sitting at a table outside of The Filling Station (a coffee house in the university district of New Tokyo). He is of questionable sanity, and it's also uncertain whether or not he is actually awake. Come, talk to him. He'll make sense. For a while. And no, his cup was not actually filled with sand.]
Crackle of static. A flash of light- A flash of light. "Thank you for tuning in. We have a very special show for you today. Today, I'm going to talk to you about love."
Camera zoom. Monitors in the background flash red. No, no... Too obvious. Red isn't love. Red is passion. No. Green... Blues. Swirls of all colors. A kaleidoscope of every color imaginable. Love isn't one feeling.
Fear. Anger. Hope. Frustration.
Sadness. Rejection.
Fulfilment. Happiness. One moment of happiness.
"They'll tell you that love is just a series of chemical reactions in the brain. But I'm here to tell you, it's much more complex than you could ever imagine."
Music building, starting off slow, building- building into something extraordinary. Building, tightening, swelling behind my ribcage.
In dreams, emotions are overwhelming.
There is nothing extraordinary about this chair. The chair I am sitting in. The sun filters down through the leaves, making patterns on the tabletop. I am collecting beautiful things, but I would have to pluck the sun out of the sky to collect this beauty. A rocket. I could build a rocket into space, further than anyone else has been able to travel. I could pluck the sun out of the sky...
but then there would be only darkness.
My coffee tastes like dirt. I spit onto the sidewalk and a little blob of mud seeps into the concrete. The cup is filled with sand and I pour it out into the bushes.
Now I need a refill.
[OOC: Stephane is sitting at a table outside of The Filling Station (a coffee house in the university district of New Tokyo). He is of questionable sanity, and it's also uncertain whether or not he is actually awake. Come, talk to him. He'll make sense. For a while. And no, his cup was not actually filled with sand.]