Neil Young Tribute Roleplay
I don’t know why, but I couldn’t help but think of the I wondered what Doctor Strangeman would have thought about There he was, examining me with all the expertise someone of As my eyes adjusted to the light of the room, I recognized “Johny, in good conscience, I don’t think I can clear you to “What’s wrong with me, doc?” I’d always hated doctors, and I “You’re working yourself too hard, and as a result, your I shook my head at Strangeman, hesitant to explain my way I had also come to accept my detachment from reality without Strangeman held his tongue, knowing we had entered a “Listen. It ain’t like it’s no picnic for me. I just got to “Or a multitude of imaginary characters acting as one “Yes.” “If you don’t mind me asking,” the caveat reached a full “Glory.” The answer was simple to say, but complex to “Isn’t it all staged?” Everyone knew that the outcomes were “No more staged than anything else, really.” That was a lie, The doctor chuckled to himself and shook his head. I had him I was getting beat by folks I’d never even heard of; losing I didn’t have an answer for Strangeman, not one that “You know, the last time I walked away from the ring, I “I still don’t understand what bad could come from just “Both, I guess.” He arched his brows, and they poked out “I see,” he said, and then he went back to the pad. “So, seeing as how I’m not planning on going full steam He hung on my question a little bit, not talking except with
unfortunate circumstances surrounding Doctor Peter
Strangeman’s surname. Maybe it was that by some divine
coincidence, if you traced back to the fathers of his
fathers, fathers who had all borne fathers, eventually,
you’d find the poor sap who was originally called
Strangeman, not because it was his father’s name, but
because he had some peculiarity, be it some retardation of
the mind or defect of the body, he was given the name as
description. As my mind entertained the options, I combined
the two and kept thinking of a man with some bulbous growth
about his face compulsively succumbing to his perversions.
these thoughts. I wondered, and yet, I didn’t--at least not
nearly enough to say them aloud. It could have been a
sensitive topic for the doctor, despite the obvious distance
the Strangemen had progressed over centuries and
generations. Part of me wondered if I hadn’t already voiced
the thoughts. I was still piecing things together, awakened
by a sudden clap that startled memories from my mind until I
could do nothing more than concede their unimportance.
his expense should have, and I was powerless, save for the
genealogical assumptions I had over him. It was the only
card I had to play, so I clutched it tight to my chest and
let him feel his way around, like a hand groping through
dark to diagnose impediments.
his face from somewhere. It was so plain that it calmed me,
the rectangular frames he wore slightly decorated his pale,
round face. His hair was light, too, roughly the same color
as his skin, and he wore it neat as to not make any more
noise on his head than necessary. He sat, one leg over the
other at an angle which seemed appropriate, not clipping too
sharply about the groin as to appear androgynous, but not so
brash and open that his knees jutted out at vulgar angles.
He took notes about our conversation but would not show them
to me when I asked him later.
compete.” He was a practitioner of concern, good enough
where it came off genuinely, even if I believed it couldn’t
be genuine. We were practical strangers.
always had a multitude of reasons. It wasn’t anything
against them personally. I guess at the root of things, it
was just that they never really told me anything I didn’t
already know. I was always falling apart, and they wanted to
fix me, even if I’d still be falling apart, only at a much
slower rate, if they did fix me. Strangeman was different,
just like his great, great, great, great, great, great,
great, and so on, grandfather.
mind has been trying to explain the overload by putting
yourself in different theoretical scenarios.” He reviewed
his notepad, surveying his account of my supposed account.
“I think maybe the best thing for you to do would be to take
some time off, let your engine cool a little bit.”
out of it. I couldn’t quite remember what information he
managed to coerce out of me, but whatever it was, I was sure
it was something he wouldn’t understand. He was a man of
cures, and men of cures tend to view the ailment as an
inferior counterpart of the antidote. I, from my several
occurances across spacetime, was able to appreciate the two
as simultaneously coexistent states.
reluctance. I would’ve told him it’s a relative thing,
reality, if I told him at all, and I could define that I was
imaginary the same way he could define being real, and it’d
all just be the same compared to whatever was or whatever
was dreaming it. I was, however, never one to believe that
those things we can imagine cannot have imaginations of
their own, all the way around until the things that we
imagine imagine things that imagine things that imagine us.
For I have imagined it, and it made a very real circle out
of very unreal things. That’s what a brain was, according to
my theories: spongy matter made up of unobservable phenomena
called thoughts.
stalemate. I was under no obligation to follow his advice,
and he had no direct advantage to gain by giving it, so as
is suited for a stalemate, neither of us made any move, not
that there were any moves to make. If it wasn’t for the
silence, that’s how it would’ve stayed, but there it was,
nagging at me like a snuck pebble in a shoe.
do it, and if I got to do it, it just makes things easier if
I’m an imaginary character.”
persona across spacetime, as you’ve described?” It was a
genuine inquiry, and he did his best to say it dryly so that
I might realize the absurdity of the delusion, but I had
already bought that in the scheme of things, it would be no
more absurd than expecting each character to exist only
once, bound to an individual persona at one point in
spacetime.
stop there, as if he know that I would inevitably mind, and
this prefacing was the only way to ensure he chiseled an
answer out of me. “Why is it so important for you to keep
burning yourself at both ends like this?”
comprehend. Even for me. I don’t know why I wanted it, but
it fit.
predetermined, albeit influenced by a variety of factors
that play out behind the scenes.
and it took me a while to think to say it, and I probably
didn’t say it in those words, either. “The glory might be
imaginary, but ain’t that fitting for someone like me?”
there. In reality, there, I only had him with words. There
was nothing particularly important about any of the matches
I had coming up, and in truth, they were just chances to
expose that I was out of gas, desperately needing a
recharge, trying to tackle too many things at once.
to younger, hungrier guys who haven’t had bread, and putting
over niche names in their respective markets. I didn’t need
these fights, where victories meant nothing to me and every
loss left me questioning more and more what I was still
doing on that side of the ropes.
would’ve made sense to either of us, and there was nothing
he could really do about that. I was going to fight anyway,
and we both knew it, even if there was little fight left in
me.
swore I’d come back, do it right, and end on a high note.” I
gave Strangeman a glance as he scribbled down something
useless. “I wish I could’ve followed through with that, but
I guess I was just in too many places at once. Now, I’m just
waiting to fizzle out everywhere.”
taking some time off to get your head right. After all,
aren’t you ruining your reputation by going out there and
working when you’re not in peak mental form?” He rephrased.
“I’m just saying, what parts of your career do you want to
be remembered for...the good ones or the bad ones?”
over his rectangular frames. “It’s a lot more tempting to
stay when you’ve got a good reputation making it easy to
show up anywhere and get a nice pop and a nice pay day from
it. The way I see it, there’s only one way out, and it’s
through the mud.”
until I lose my mind completely, ain’t there anything you
can prescribe me to make sure that part of the ordeal goes
as painlessly as possible?”
the sound of ball point on paper, finally scribbling out
something useful, though I’d be damned if it was any more
legible than anything else he’d scrawled out about me. I
figured it made about just as much sense that way.
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