Paranoia Requiem

An Introduction to the Works of the Artist of the Story

Across a sea of chaos lies a chapel bathed in harmonious light, ever welcoming souls

doomed to obscurity. Within the chapel lies salvation for the mind as it struggles to make

sense of nightmares that encumber it. As a lost soul tries to bring order to the chaos, it loses

texture and a refined taste it accumulated over years agony and anxiety. There is no true cure

for the scars that nightmares have inflicted upon the soul, as tragedy is a pain that wants no

remedy. Regardless, souls will cling to the light like a dog wandering the silent streets of a

city at witching hour. This agony of personal despair blossoms from a life wrought with

isolation, humiliation, wretched carnal pleasures and an intoxicating need to belong

somewhere even if it means more desolation of identity. Stories are a way to express inner

monologues in a digestible way, but surrealism throws a wrench defined logic and twist

reality into a greasy beast of indulgence. In Lost in Obscurity and A Taste of of Life by the

Artist of the Story, the tales focus on the journey of lost souls as they attempt to restore sanity

to their broken lives. Influences such as David Lynch and Salvador Dali in surrealistic culture

and careful revision brings order to chaos in the stories by the Artist.

Surrealism in art and movies impacts the stories by instilling a dream-like narrative for

the reader to get lost in. The short story A Taste of of Life nods at the work of David Lynch

by destroying expectations of a linear narrative. When the reality that Zacharie is living in a

nightmare loop becomes apparent, this is inspired the Lynchs Mullholand Drive when the

first half of the movie was a red herring. This gives clarity to the surreal nature of Zacharies
life and guides the reader to an ambiguous destination. On the other hand, Lost in

Obscurity is more closely related to the art of Salvador Dali than a movie. Vivid descriptions

of a nightmarish city and the loss of moral anchors are akin to depraved, lucid dreams seen in

Dali paintings. The influence of Dali breathes life into the black city as the Forgetful Derelict

reorganizes himself. Though the story and the poem by the Artist of the Story are steeped in

dream logic and become wound up like a yarn ball, the clarity of surrealistic influences allows

for the reader to unravel the mystery of these tales in a succinct, understandable way.

Influences are one step in the process of making a compelling story, while revisions refine the

idea.

Creating surrealistic works of fiction takes a concentrated effort because it can easily

disorient the reader and leave them bewildered. In the original draft of A Taste of Life, the

tale was wrought with obtuse language and lacked refined detail on characters like The Noise

and the Girl of Value. With outside influence, these details were changed in the final draft to

make it acutely obvious what each character symbolized in the story. While some aspects of

the story will be left ambiguous, making the entire story disconnect from reality is hurtful to

the bigger picture of the story.

Dreams are a useful blueprint for all types of creative fiction. Though nightmares are

often what the viewer sees in surrealism. Themes by the Artist encompass isolation of the

figure, representing feelings of rejection from outside influences. From the viewpoint of the

Forgetful Derelict and Zacharie, the people are described as harmful individuals that use the

characters for their own agenda and toss them aside with ease. Isolation and the interference
of others delve into the psychological aspect of surrealism and add meaning to the adversity

of the characters. So, the influence of artists and the interference of an outside touch cater to

these tales in a way that makes them feel more personal and involved. While the chapel of

light is the reward for a life of hardships, scars empower the lost souls and give them the

strength to rise above the nightmare and be triumphant in the face of tragedy.
 Lost in Obscurity

Another tap on the glass

Bewitched by sickly sweet embrace
Skipping thoughts between drinks
A familiar misery building in the heart
Once more on a train to the black city

A wandering derelict finds compromise

Shifting aimlessly within the twilight
Pearly white ambition seeping from closed shops
Creatures of woe embracing profane delights
Cursed by a myriad of lies

Sitting in the place where the derelict always belonged

Contemporary poison dispensed with uproarious fanfare
Black creatures fear his sentiments
Taking away the only pair of shoes
The forgotten ghosts cling to his feet

In an alleyway surrounded by lying eyes

Confidants fill him with pitch black resolve
Eating from his breast another indulgent beast
That pearly white sensation ever so daunting
Crackling skin and forgotten mall shops awaken doubt

The black memory begins to surface

Regret serves the bird and kills the stone
Cameras spill photos of the present
Memories pile on a doorway to escape
But into the presence of the wrong self

Depersonalized in a sea of false karass

Reconfigured in the hall of mirrors
The face of a boney king of nothing
Wandering in a starlight rhapsody
The forgetful derelict drifts away into the midnight lands
 The Taste of Life

Stirring anxiously beneath the sheets, Zacharie the trepid youth awakens to the

agitated grinding of the alarm. Wearing his doubt like a shroud, Zacharie embraces the

boredom of a new week without so much as a whimper. As he puts on his clothes, his gaze

turns to his window. Off in the near distance is the circus being built for the fall and it fills

him with motivation to move on with the tedium of school. The ferris wheel stands as still as

dormant giant waiting to be bolstered by life. Something about the movement of the wheel

puts Zacharie in a trance and intrigues feelings deep inside of his chest. Life always moves

on, regardless of whether he wants to go along for the ride.

As Zacharie begins his pursuit of a new school day, he finds a clothing store on the

way to the school. Staring through the window, he spots many fancy shirts and fashion wear

that he can never afford. What piques his excitement the most is a feather-hooded jacket on

display in the window. The jacket is the epitome of stylish and fills him with confidence.

Regardless of the price, the jacket is far too big for his tiny frame. With a frustrated pout,

Zacharie drags his feet to the stoplight in front of his school. Gaggles of faceless nobodies

squeeze Zacharie into place as he tries to cross the street. One such creature, a Vagrant in a

hoodie, stares at his phone with gleeful concentration. Upon closer inspection, Zacharie

notices that the phone is not even functional. The Vagrant fills him with disgust and reminds

him of a life style he is trying to avoid. A life of depravity and carelessness is no different than

being drawn and quartered by horses. Howling mothers, lonely souls and laughing devils get

their rocks off as Zacharie hurdles himself toward his school.

Shortly before class begins, Zacharie snuggles up to his favorite desk in the middle of

the room. Sitting in front of him is the Girl of Value. Zacharie has never been cool enough to

talk to her, so he quietly admires her from afar. The Apathetic Associate grabs Zacharies

shoulder and whispers gently to him. He beckons Zacharie to join the righteous cause and

add purpose to his life, but Zacharie has no desire to follow a rigid path of faith. In the mind
of the Apathetic Associate, Zacharie is a Little Peep that carries a big trumpet. The

Apathetic Associate wants to strip the shirt off the little bird and lash some penance into his

back, yet Zacharie is far stronger than that. He will fly strong and do the right thing in his life,

without needing a higher power. Sneaking up beside Zacharie is the Sneering Sycophant; his

hand grips his shoulder uncomfortably. He sees Zacharie is a Big Peep that will light his

way through the foolish mistakes of the Apathetic Associate. Zacharie is the morning star that

will guide him to salvation, so he covets him with deep idolatry. The Sneering Sycophant

caresses the body and feathers of Zacharie, inching towards his pants and attempting to

carefully do what he always wanted. But Zacharie pushes himself away before things could

go further. As the morning bell rings, the Associate and Sycophant move back to their seats as

Zacharie turns his attention to his teacher. The Noise is a teacher that wants what is best for

Zacharie and warns him about the dangers of following the wrong path. Wretched creatures

of indulgence will cave his skull in and sip his good purpose out with a straw. The Noise

wants Zacharie to understand that the best things in life come when you put in effort,

otherwise he will end up living on a street and burning his feet in a boiling pot of crass

behavior. The Noise envisions Zacharie covered in filth and begging for more; an unenviable

fate of the foolish. The Noise opens the door behind him and grabs Zacharies hand, guiding

him to a dark hallway. The hallway in front of him is not too righteous or unstable, but fill

Zacharie with uneasiness. Letting go of his hand, The Noise bids Zacharie farewell and slams

the door behind him. Peering off to the side of the dark hallway is the Vagrant from earlier.

Zacharie tries to run away, but the Vagrant grabs his arm. A disgusting smell emanates from

the Vagrant as he breathes down Zacharies neck. An overwhelming tiredness washes over

Zacharie and he drifts, drifts, drifts into a deep slumber.

II
 After waking up from a peaceful rest, Zacharie enjoys a refreshing bowl of cereal. It

reminds him that days can start off the way he wants and fill him with ambition. Another day

of wonderful learning awaits Zacharie, and he wiggles in his seat in anticipation. Ahead of

him at the table looms his father, miles away and out of comprehension. His father stretches

his hand over the valley of shadows and through the travelers gate, reaching Zacharies soft

cheek. His fingers stroke feathers and rubs his beak. His father remarks that Zacharie is a bird

now and that isnt right. His son should be more of an established figure like a sawmill,

producing content and being a useful member of society. The hand recedes back into the

black expanse of their house and Zacharie leaves for school.

Another uneventful morning as Zacharie stands at the stoplight. A trinket shop

explodes open and he is sucked into the establishment. Darting to and fro the customers

whisper unceremoniously to each other. A tired-looking clerk with an owl head dusts various

statues and greets customers. A sparkling snow globe lies just out of reach and Zacharie

futility stretches his arms to grab it. The tired owl clerk walks up to Zacharie and hands him

the snow globe he wanted. Inside the globe is a blizzard surrounding a circus full of happy

people. Yet it was so still and motionless. He set aside the negative emotions and searched for

something that would impress the Girl of Value. She was so far out of his league, but perhaps

a gift would break the ice. When he thinks of her he sees a happy life full of promise,

something he strives to obtain. Stumbling through rabble rousers and unsavory gentlemen

left a foul taste in his mouth. He crawled on his knees and under a shelf to reject the silly and

pointless noise of the customers. Destiny smiles upon him as he finds a hairpin shaped like a

ladybug. It was intricate and complicated, like the Girl of Value. As he held it close, his eyes

became misty and he thought about a happy life he always wanted. He thought about his

friends the Apathetic Associate and Sneering Sycophant. They both care about him on some

level, but they are caught up in pushing him down a path of their choosing. Zacharie wishes

his friends would set aside their agenda and just be there for him. As he frowns about his

friendship dilemma, a trap door opens beneath him and Zacharie falls into the abyss.

Cold water drips on his face and he wakes up in darkness. Holding himself closely,
Zacharie walks through a dark corridor that endlessly drips water. His clothes were long

gone, off enjoying a vacation in cloud cuckoo land. Being naked was the least of his concerns.

Getting lunch was higher on his list of priorities. He ignored the lack of clothes and embraced

the shoulder of the nearest shadowy figure, gently hugging the back of it. The person turned

out to be a black creature with sharp teeth who smiled fondly at Zacharie. It was an

uncomfortable moment, but the black creature understood what to do. It grabbed Zacharie by

the legs and dangled him upside down. As blood rushed to his head, he smiled anxiously

back at the black creature. He was then promptly thrown down a chute like old laundry.

After what felt like an eternity, Zacharie lands in a shallow puddle of water at the

bottom. Water is pouring in from all sides of the room, but it goes nowhere. Zacharies

kitchen table lies in the center, taunting him with the promise of more cereal. As he sits down,

he is saddened to find that the bowl is full of water. Suddenly, the presence of another person

brings chills up his spine. Sitting right in front of him is a man with water endlessly flowing

up his body. His square glasses are fogged and hide any glint of expression, but Zacharie

feels a deep sadness upon looking at this man. The Undrowned gives a soft murmur of

approval at the sight of Zacharie. His hand reaches out and touches the cheek of Zacharie,

giving him a warm feeling of acceptance. In the glasses of the Undrowned, he saw the school,

the streets, his home. Zacharie was exactly where he wanted to be. It wasnt a place where he

followed a faithful purpose, nor was it soaring far above with with careless passion. He was

there, and everything that was nice and pure. He grabbed the Undrowneds arm and held it

close. It was a bond earned, not stolen from the cold breath of faceless crowds or harbingers

of indulgent behavior. This sensation gave waves of nostalgia that felt right. As the man

leaned back from him, he pointed to the clock. It is getting late and Zacharie has to get to

school. He waves goodbye to the Undrowned and wraps his body around the clock. It warms

him up and dries off his sorrow. But his clothes were still missing. Somehow that doesnt

matter. Zacharie drift, drift, drifts away once more.

III
 Trepidation devours Zacharie as he approaches his classroom. Grasping the ladybug

hairpin in his hand, Zacharie enters his class and takes his seat His classmates are murmuring

behind his back while the Noise is shakes his head in disapproval at Zacharie. Sitting down in

a familiar place no longer feels safe. His breath grows short as closes his eyes and tries to

ignore the reckless despots. Laughter grows in chorus in the adjacent classes as the other

teachers form a conga line into the basement. One by one they fall endlessly into the dark

basement, laughing as they fade into nothingness. Zacharie feels a pang of sorrow for them,

as he somehow feels responsible for their fate. He waves solemnly as his last teacher, the

Noise, reluctantly falls into the abyss. The Noise only wants what is best for Zacharie, but he

fails to follow his teachers path.

To his right the Apathetic Associate is dressed in his bishop robes, feeding fervor and

intimidation to devout. They stare up at him with fearful eyes and penance is rained down on

the undeserving lambs. With the good purpose moving his hand, he washes the land of sin

and brings purity back to the world. His gaze is distant, as he is blinded by the light. For

today he will do the righteous thing and bring an end to the great darkness that threatens

humanity. But his precipice shatters and he falls with a tremendous fear in his heart, doubting

his faith in his final moments.

To his left, the Sneering Sycophant amasses his army of apostates and throws himself

into the crowd of wretches. They contort and emulsify all sense of burden as the world burns

down. He calls upon the chaos of humanity to stop the approaching madness and his

followers lift him into the sky. The morning star he covets shines brightly above, but fades

into eternity while the Sneering Sycophant frowns. He gets onto his knees and prays to the

star as it comes crashing down, screaming in terror as his failure burns him to ashes.

As Zacharie sits in his classroom chair, he begins to worry even more. The children were

no longer there, save for one, and the room was growing darker. Tears well up in his eyes as

he shuddered from the cold. The isolation was overwhelming, yet never left his side. The Girl

of Value was gone, replaced by a door. Was she ever truly real or just a figment of his
imagination? What he felt was the warmth of a happy life he never had; a dream rather than a

tangible person. Zacharie approaches the door and notices the words The Taste of Life are

emblazoned on it. The hairpin was now a key that seemed to fit the door perfectly. Tears flow

down his face as Zacharie looks back on the desolation behind him. Nothing remains of his

old life but sorrow and grief. With a twist of his hand, the ladybug key opens the door and

Zacharie steps into the light.

Rain drizzles down on another fall evening. The sight of blood on his feathered hood

causes Zacharie to grimace in regret. He is exactly where he needs to be, a path that his

teacher has trained him for all of his life He envisioned the statues, stories and songs being

made in his name after this was all over. It will be a splendid celebration that he will never

have the pleasure of witnessing. The life of a martyr never ends well. Life moves on,

regardless of whether you want to go along for the ride. Richard trembles with elation next

to him, even though his legs are gone. Zacharie could not make out his expression in his

square glasses, but he knew Richard was determined. He did, after all, plan this trap himself.

Richard made the dimensional cage in the clock tower and drew the Vagrant and his wheel

within it. The wheel took the shape of a doomsday clock, which was rather fitting for the

Vagrant. The Vagrant got what he desired, even if it meant destroying the fabric of time and

space. Zacharie lifts the gun up with his remaining arm and aims it towards the Vagrant.

Richard is using what remains of his strength to hold him into place. All of Zacharies friends,

associates and sycophants sacrificed their lives in vain attempting to seal the Vagrant away,

while Richard made it look so easy. Calm washes over Zacharie as he tries to retain his

humanity. What remains of his memories is a fragment of the life he wanted, sparking a sense

of guilt and regret. The wheel invades his thoughts and beckons him. It speaks of an idyllic

life that deserves to have. Strife devoured his life ever since childhood, so he never had the

opportunity to be himself. With his hand on the trigger, Zacharie began to waver. He knew

what was the right choice. Richards happy demeanor changed to horror as Zacharie aimed

the gun at the wheel. Before he could even react, Zacharie fired a shot and pierced the wheel.

The clock stopped turning and light engulfed the area. He could not hear Richard screaming,
nor did he notice the tower shatter beneath his feet. As Zacharie fell into the abyss, his

memories faded away. His eyes grew heavy, but he could see the Vagrant above grinning like

a crocodile. Zacharies eyes well up with tears as he drift, drift, drifts away.

Stirring anxiously beneath the sheets, Zacharie the trepid youth awakens to the agitated

grinding of the alarm. Wearing his doubt like a shroud, Zacharie embraces the boredom of a

new week without so much as a whimper. As he puts on his clothes, his gaze turns to his

window. Off in the near distance is the circus being built for the fall and it fills him with

motivation to move on with the tedium of school.

For a brief moment the ferris wheel started moving. How odd.