by Benjamin Miller

Created on: February 24, 2010

Victims And Witnesses

Let me introduce myself, I am the victim Charles. My mind is nothing but a cruel reactionary process to a series of musical notes played at me by a world that developed me through an equation, for no other reason than to see what would happen. Live a stage life and it gets to the point where your skin is nothing, but a prop, and you just wish there were an understudy. That’s me in a nutshell, which—if we’re being perfectly honest—is about the size of my existence. It’s like I was never born, it’s just that the womb got a little bigger.

            An interesting question would be raised as tall as any burning flag (even at sea level is grand in the height of a heart), if someone were to ask me where I came from. Well no one has, nor would I expect anyone to hum such a tune as that. no, tourists—as humans are want to be called these days—never ask questions, they just stare on in a subdued amazement. See if you’re amazed half past ten when you started earlier than the clock itself, you’ll find that life is just a slideshow of places you’ve been… or maybe haven’t; you can’t remember, but the point is, not even that matters. Where do I come from is the question on the table. And before I answer I would like to stop and ponder where “tourists” put their propositions before the grand invention of the table… maybe the tables always existed.

            Right I have danced around my answer as if I had some kind of aversion to handing out a copy of my memoirs to hungry customers. I forgot about hunger, way back when, the great president eliminated hunger with this wonderful drug that replaced life with a cool numbness. I can’t remember if he was re-elected, but I can assure you there was definitely a lower voter turn-out. But I digress, like a train with no tracks yet still finds a way to get off path, makes YOU wonder where such a train has to go. And finally to my answer (I do apologize, as victims will often do, but really we all share the blame, the only real perpetrator is God and I’ll leave it up to you where he apologizes.) Simply stated, I was born a statistic. Since then I’ve gotten my own name, in this non-descript hazy future, let me assure you, you have to buy or earn a name, sometimes both. after a certain

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