My recently completed short story, also known as “To Change the World”
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The whistle blew once more, signaling the end of the break. It was time to get back to work. Adrian rose cautiously out of his seat, watching his coworkers’ faces closely for any sign of suspicion. He was relieved when no one offered him more than a natural, passing glance.
Adrian went back to his usual post on top of the ladder. He stared at the miniscule components that cost millions of dollars to make, and whose fate lay in his hands. A thrill went through his body when he realized that all he had to do was to leave one single part untightened. Yes, then the rocket’s vibrations will knock it out of place during launch, and the whole thing will be doomed. And, better yet, Adrian would be saved; his nearly flawless reputation as chief engineer would help overlook this disaster. Best of all though, Adrian could spin it as whatever he wanted, since there would be nothing left of the site for miles.
A smile started to appear on Adrian’s face, first as a slight curl of the lips, then the separation of the top and bottom lips, and finally the tightening of the cheeks. It was completely unconscious and involuntary, but Adrian let the smile take his face hostage, even if for a second. His fingers trembled ever so slightly, holding the multidriver above the catalyzer. Taking a deep, gasping breath, Adrian dove inside the belly of the beast.
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I am mad. I am hopping, steaming, boiling mad. Though I’m usually a calm, but animated, person, something snapped within me. I should have seen it coming from a mile away, but these little grains of problems, complaints, bitching, started to grow larger and larger until suddenly, I realize I’m sitting on top of a fucking mountain. Something has to be said.
I joined tumblr because I thought it would be a great way to meet new friends who appreciated my work, gave me detailed criticism on my writing, and whose stuff I could comment as well. After a couple of rough, unexciting days, I finally fell into a groove of writing daily. I’ve slowly gathered a handful of followers, and then… nothing. No reblogs. Barely any likes. Nothing. What was I expecting? God knows, but it certainly wasn’t this.
Right now, most of the people that _I_ follow are, honestly, not worth the clutter on my dashboard. They post nothing original. They don’t _take_ the photos that they reblog ad nauseum. They don’t write fiction, they don’t do _anything_ worth many people’s attention. Where are the people who take the photographs, shoot the videos, write the music and the stories that everyone else reblogs into oblivion? I should be following them instead.
As asshole-ish as this may sound to some of you, this is the truth. This is what I believe. Maybe tumblr isn’t for me. Maybe I should have expected this. Honestly though, when it looks as if I’m the only one of the people that I follow churning out original, though maybe bad, fiction every _fucking_ day, and barely anyone gives me a lick of attention besides the occasional ‘like’ or the very rare reblog, something has to be said.
This isn’t personal. I just feel like I’m giving away my work, my creative efforts, stuff that actually takes _time_ to do, without any recognition. Fuck, I would be fine if people criticized my writing, completely destroyed it, but no one even does that. I write for myself, but I need people on the outside to help me get better. You haven’t been able to do that for me. Good day, followers.
While the other engineers gathered in their long-determined cliques and clusters, Adrian sat in the corner of the break room, leaning back in his chair. His eyes were focused on something very far away, something hidden behind the walls of the room, the hanger, the atmosphere, the solar system itself. His mind was twisting itself into unpleasant knots, as he mulled over the immiment launch of this never-before-seen technology.
He thought of how, if this was all a success, the astronauts would come as heroes, forever immortalized by the first ever manned rendezvous with another planet outside of the solar system. His thoughts began to turn over faster, clashing with one another, grinding their sharp, biting edges down into dull, blunt nubs. Suddenly, all of the clashing and machine squeals in his head halted and a glorious new idea began to sprout, like a plant under accelerated growth lamps. It surprised him, made his heart race, and tickled every deep desire that his id buried deep from his ego. Soon though, horror and disgust replaced his rapture. How could he think of such a thing?! What kind of person would even… even consider that? Adrian felt the shame steaming from every pore in his body. He hoped his colleagues didn’t notice his sudden change in demeanor.
Adrian closed his eyes and tried to silence the idea forever. He managed to push it back into the dirty, filthy cave where it came from, but then lost his willpower and let it burst out. It took over his mind completely, stronger than before. Adrian couldn’t repress this idea now. It was going to nag and bite at the folds of his brain, from the deep recesses of his subconscious to the higher peaks of his superego. There was no escaping it.
Adrian wanted to destroy the Pilgrim.
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It took me a while to realize what I was missing. Why my days seemed to empty and without purpose. It should have been obvious from the start, but I’m a slow learner. I have no identity. I have no constant name, family, address, friends, enemies, possessions, nothing. I thought I was just wasting my time in bed, feigning sickness and other illnesses. I thought I didn’t know what I was supposed to do, but then it all made sense. I needed an anchor. Every normal person has one. Even if they are living in the streets, with nothing but the clothes on their back and a plastic bag filled with crap, they still have that. It’s _theirs_. No one could claim otherwise. They have their name, their thoughts, their own memories. Again, no one else could take them. It’s one of the basic foundations of being a person, but it was something that I lacked. I needed an anchor, or else I was going to die.
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