Okay, well I posted this in my personal thread, but it didn't get much response. Maybe it will here. I'm not really looking for "editing" per se, but any comments are welcome. Keep in my mind I wrote it at age 17.
"Games"
You can't play chess by yourself.
No matter how hard you try.
You have to have an opponent.
Someone to match strategies and tactics with.
Even if it's an electronic machine,
There has to be something moving the opposing pieces.
Say you play the white pieces.
You wait a long time, carefully planning your first move,
Thinking about what reaction the black pieces might have.
But when you move that first white pawn,
THERE IS NO RESPONSE.
Then, in a tiny moment, so quick you could miss it by blinking,
Your opponent is there.
Your opponent's hand reaches out to move a piece.
But then, as quickly as it appeared, the hand is gone.
It didn't completely vanish,
But it moved to a checkerboard, and made a move there.
A safe move,
A move that you've seen a thousand times before as an opening strategy,
But this is the first time someone's tried it against you.
But what to do now?
One one side of your chess board, a white pawn has been moved.
On the other side of the chessboard, there stands an untouched army of black pieces.
On one side of a checkerboard, one black piece has been moved.
On the other side of that same board.
THERE ARE NO RED PIECES.
How in the hell can you respond when there are no red pieces?
Can you find them?
Are they hidden?
Why are your opponent's black pieces there and not your red ones?
Your opponent has two armies, and you only have one.
How can you make your next move?
To move on the chessboard, a black piece has to be moved first.
To move on the checkerboard, you need some fucking pieces!!!
Captured pieces from other games laugh at your predicament.
They're not really rooting for your opponent.
They're just amused that you failed to move when you were in control.
They seem confused as to why you started your fifty meter dash forty-nine meters behind everyone else.
Some other pieces seem to be rooting for you,
They cheer you on, and wish you luck.
But they can't find your red checkers for you.
Some of them seem confident that you'll find them.
Others are not so sure.
You were scheduled to compete in so many events.
Why the hell haven't you shown up for the rest of them?
It's one goddamn game of chess!
Or is it checkers?
You don't even know what game you're playing anymore.
How can you possibly be expected to win when you don't know what you're playing?
Maybe you're not supposed to win.
But even if you're not supposed to win, are you supposed to lose?
Maybe it's destined to be a draw.
After all, your opponent hasn't beaten you,
Only made it seemingly impossible for you to move.
You're in a stalemate.
Many players of other games pass by and don't seem to notice.
They've already won or lost their games,
Or they're warming up for the next one.
But yet you wonder if, out of your eyesight,
There's someone else in a stalemate with their opponent.
But even if you knew for sure, even if you met this other player,
Could you give each other tips?
Or would you just both stare blankly at each other,
Wondering the same things?
You've heard of stalemates like this one,
But you always thought there was a conclusion.
Maybe the pieces are scattered,
Or some other act of nature ruins the game.
Sure, there are no winners or losers in that case,
But there is an ending.
A solution.
A break in the monotony that is a draw.
You find yourself wishing that one of two things would happen.
Your fondest dream is that your red pieces magically appear,
And that you move them to the best of your ability,
And win the game.
A glorious victory that no one will soon forget.
But if you can't have that,
Then all your heart and mind wishes for some great hurricane to blow the pieces away.
A storm so great that the pieces are lost forever,
And all that remains of the playing boards is the space they once occupied.
Maybe not.
Maybe that's not what you really want at all.
Maybe you've convinced yourself that it would be better to have the game disappear, then to lose it, or even draw.
Perhaps, you'd really like a fellow player who knows of your predicament.
Not like the watching captured pieces,
But a real understanding of where you are,
And where you came from.
When you were thinking about that first move,
The first square you planned to move that little white pawn into,
You thought you had all the time in the world.
That everything would just stop and wait for your great initiation.
But all the other games went on without you.
All you were to them was one less competitor.
One less opponent who could take the prize.
Stop it!
Stop dreaming backwards and forwards!
Fuck strategy!
Fuck patience!
It's time for action!
You must find those red checkers NOW!
You're searching wildly,
Through boards and cases of other games,
Through the rubble of abandoned toyboxes of yesterday,
Through garbage cans,
Shopping malls,
Hobby shops,
Abandoned warehouses,
Toy factories,
EVERYWHERE!
You search madly, ravenously, forsaking all other aspects of all games,
Ignoring everything and everyone that tries to reach you.
Painfully, hopelessly, you plough through the remains and the debris,
Until, as you reach your final searching point,
The highest element of your dreams,
You reach into the final nook and cranny in
ONE LAST GASP OF COURAGE, AND.........
Nothing.
You find no red checkers.
Sure, everyone has black ones.
Everyone has white and black chess pieces.
No red checkers.
All the other games have ended now.
You stand alone on a battlefield,
With only your useless army to keep you company.
You stare across the board at where your opponent used to be.
Oh sure, the opposing pieces are still there,
Though they've collected cobwebs, and rust,
And all other evidences of age.
There's no one behind them however.
They're once again simply pieces.
Your opponent has long since abandoned this game,
And gone on to more productive ones.
Once again, you're playing by yourself.
This time you become the act of nature.
You removed the lifeless pieces of your opponent from both boards.
Then, one by one, you dismiss your army.
The King and Queen, your strongest competitors, are boxed for another time.
You say goodbye to the bishops, rooks, and the Knights, your mighty warriors, who step softly into the night.
Then you urge the pawns off the board, all except for one.
The one pawn that you moved,
The one glimmering light of your gallant attempt,
You let it stand for awhile.
Then, after a short time, even the lone pawn realizes the futility of his remaining.
He starts to leave the playing field,
And then turns, and gives you one last look as if to say,
"You tried, my friend. That's all anyone can ask for."
Then, after a slight smile in your direction,
The pawn slowly, and softly, walks off the board,
Leaving an empty grid, that stares at you with an empty, meaningless gaze.
You can't play chess by yourself.
No matter how hard you try.
You have to have an opponent.
Someone to match strategies and tactics with.
There has to be something moving the opposing pieces.
ALWAYS.
-- 2/5/94, 2:01 A.M.
