45 - Marginalia (2)

- MONDAY -

Dear Reader,

My name is Odd-kun and I'm almost X years old!

Welcome to my journal!

I don't want to call it a diary because Dear Diary is not cool to right ("Obvious typo. You mean write, Odd-kun. Minus ten points. … See me after class.") so I will pretend you are real and that I am writing to you ("Hang on. You used the correct word here. So what the f—") in this diary I mean journal and that way I don't have to say Dear Diary.

I live in a big house with my friends, Sunny and Moeka.

("… Hello?")

("!!!!!!!")

("… Hello??")

("… V-Valerie!? Is that you!?")

("… Uh, yeah? Hi …?")

("… It's Alex.")

The three of us live together in Parallax Manor with Sister Lumo.

("Um. Hi. Alex. … So why the fuck am I—are we—in a child's diary right now?")

("I mean, we're not really in it, technically. We're more like—in the margins of the diary. … But yeah, welcome to my life, for the past … I don't even know how long.")

("This reads like it's the very first entry, though.")

("Yes. Yes, it's just the same Monday. Over and over again.")

("Ahhh. Like a Groun—")

("—'Like a submarine, Mr Wayne. … Like a submarine.'")

("… What?")

("What? … Shit, also, how did I do that? I got non-italics for a second there.")

("Hold on. Did you say that, or did I? This is all really confusing without dialogue tags.")

Tomorrow is Sister Lumo's birthday and today Sunny and Moeka and I baked a cake for her party tomorrow. I hope she likes it.

("Valerie, lemme ask you something, thoughbeit.")

("What's that?")

("What do you remember? … I mean, I remember you, and you remember me, obviously. And we both remember Odd-kun. … And we both know what he's describing here isn't real. … But then, what was true? What was real?")

("Um … I mean, we were all living together in the same house, right? I … I think we were kids, right? … It all feels like it was a dream.")

("Right. That's what I remember too. We were all kids, living together in the same house. But not like Odd-kun's describing here. For example—we could go outside, no problem. In fact … In fact! Yeah, I remember now! There was an entire village we lived in! Para … Para-something …")

("… Parallaxia! Yes! I remember, too! Okay, so then, let's lay out the discrepancies between what we remember and what Odd-kun's describing.")

("Okay. Okay. So—Where we came from … We were kids. We lived in a house with each other. That much jibes with the diary. Hey, I'm Alex, by the way.")

("I didn't … I didn't ask.")

("The house was big, but it wasn't … a hundred rooms. I don't know if Odd-kun's just describing that literally, or if it's just some kind of child-like hyperbole. And the house was just one part of our lives. There was an entire village.")

("Parallaxia.")

("Parallaxia, yeah. There was a lake, and—and villagers! Other people besides us! I mean, they were drawn a bit more vaguely, not well-defined like us, but—")

("Hey. That's another thing. We're, um … I mean, we don't have forms right now. We literally just parenthetical marginal text.")

("Yes, yes—and if you ask me—")

("I didn't.")

(A, ignoringly: "—if you ask me, visual depictions are inimical to true literary excellence. Ya, see, literature should encapsulate a thought. In fact, my aesthetic schema—")

(V, interruptedly: "Nobody cares. Also, uh. Did you just get a fucking dialogue tag and HOLY SHIT I HAVE ONE TOO.")

(A: "Nice. Nice nice nice. If we could only de-italic this shit, we'll be all good. Maybe if we could also stop with the one-new-parenthesis-for-each-line-of-dialogue thing, then we'd be even golden-er.")

(V, disgustedly: "I'm not sharing a parenthesis with you. Hey, wait—do you think we could do nested parentheses? (Just checking.) Heh, nice. I guess we can. Neat-o.")

(A: "We can, doesn't mean we should. Stylistically, it's completely classless. I hate it. We're not programming here. Nested parentheses in source code? Yes, perfectly fine. Prose? Nah, bro. Ain't no fuckin' way.")

Sometimes the scary man comes to our window and tells us that he can tell us the truth of the world. But Sunny and Moeka and I just ignore him and play by ourselves.

(A: "… Okay, anyway. Back on topic. Similarities and differences. Sister Lumo protected us from the monsters that sometimes tried to attack the village. Yes?")

(V: "Yes. Sister Lumo. Friendly smile. Protected us in our child forms. She could shoot lasers because she's part … machine? Or something.")

(A: "Right. And she wasn't missing. At all. She seems to be missing from Odd-kun's illusive reality here.")

(V: "And that scary man Odd-kun keeps going on about. That's not—I don't remember anything about a man. … He must have something to do with all this.")

(A: "Maybe it's a village monster in disguise?")

(V: "Maybe.")

Anyway, it's really late now and we have a big day tomorrow for Sister Lumo's birthday.

I hope she can show up.

(V: "HEY! HEY! ODD-KUN! WAKE UP! YOU'RE TRAPPED IN A DIARY! THAT'S NOT THE REAL WORLD YOU'RE IN RIGHT NOW! ALSO YOU'RE NOT A CHILD!")

(A: "Yeah, I tried the all-caps thing too. Not gonna work.")

Goodnight Reader!

I'll see you tomorrow.

*

- MONDAY -

Dear Reader,

My name is Odd-kun and I'm almost X years old!

(A: "Hi, Odd-kun!" V: "Hi, Odd-kun!")

(V: "Oh, gross! Did we just share a parenthetical space!?")

(A: "What are you so freaked out about? … You're the one who smells. I should be the offended one.")

Nice to meet you this is my journal I'm starting one I call you Reader because I don't like 'Dear Diary'.

(V: "Wow. Terrible, awful sentence. Much run-on.")

(A, pet-peeved: "You know, a very long sentence does not necessarily a run-on make. As long as you have the proper conjunctions, or if you chain the independent clauses properly with prepositions, you can pretty much sustain a sentence indefinitely.")

(V: "Okay? … But that was actually an example of a true run-on, though. No coordinating conjunctions.")

(A: "Well, y-yes. I'm just saying …")

(V: "And you know, another thing. I've never really been a fan of the diary format when it comes to storytelling.")

(A: "Oh, that sounds really, really interesting. Yeah, you should tell me more—whoa! Hey, I figured it out!

(V: "… What?")

(A: "So that's how we get non-italics to display! We italic the italic and then it cancels out into non-italic text! …")

(V, sighingly: "Okay, whatever. I don't care.")

(A: "Sorry. You may continue with your hot take.")

(V: "Okay. Yes. Diary-format stories.")

(A: "Epistolary, yes.")

(V: "I thought that was for letters.")

(A: "It can be two things!")

(V: "Anyway … Because it's like—it's aiming for verisimilitude, right? Like you're reading 'found footage'. Okay, 'footage' isn't the right word, but you get what I'm saying."

(A: "Oh, look at you. 'Versimilitude'. Miss Fucking Pseud over here—")

(V: "So there's no narrative tension, right? Because if a character is writing a journal entry, that means they're in a position where they're able to do so. So they're safe from danger. If they write about a dangerous situation, or a fight—well, obviously they've already escaped from it, or triumphed over their enemy! So it's like … what's the point? We already know the outcome.")

(A, wagging finger: "No, no, no. See, I actually do have my own problems with these 'found footage' stories. But not for the same reasons you do.")

(V: "(How did you wag a finger? We don't have corporeal forms.) … Oh. Oh, I see what you mean, with the double-italics cancelling out.")

(A, nauseated: "Again, with the nested fuckin' parentheses … Anyway, like I was saying—stories, or more accurately, literature, encapsulates a state.")

(V: "I thought you said it encapsulated a thought.")

(A: "IT CAN ENCAPSULATE TWO THINGS. … And as such, all stories take place in a far distant future, where all the events it depicts have already happened. Imagine the story as a finished state. It's being told from a far-off vantage point, told linearly, as that's the only way we as readers, as humans, can understand it. Why do you think the archetypal, platonic ideal of a story always starts off with, 'A long time ago, in a land far, far away'? … A story is true thought. Literature is thought transmutated. In fact, you know what the purest novel is? It's just my idea of a story, and all the events that it comprises, beamed directly into your head, like telepathy.")

(V, checking watch: "Yeah. Yeah, that's really … so interesting. But I don't know if this is really the time for a discussion on aesthetics."

(A: "IT IS ALWAYS TIME FOR AESTHETICS. THERE IS NOTHING MORE IMPORTANT IN THIS WORLD.")

(V: "What 'world'? The margins of an age-regressed protagonist's diary!? We don't even have corporeal forms, dude! … Also, this is hardly literature. This is a child's diary. Not even a real child, at that.")

(A, superciliously: "Perhaps the true literature of the modern age, comes from the voice of the children.")

(V: "… Seemingly profound at first glance, but that doesn't mean anything. Okay, look—I think it's time to address the elephant in the room.")

(A: "… Which is?")

(V: "We're fuckin' dead, aren't we?")

(A: "…")

We spent all day baking a cake, me and Sunny and Moeka. It was a lot of fun and the cake has lots of frosting and is real yummy.

(A: "… Yeah. Yeah, we died in Parallaxia.")

(V: "The true reality. … And now for whatever reason, Odd-kun is caught in this fake reality. … Is he dead, too?")

(A: "No. … No, I don't think so. I think that you and I have died, in Parallaxia. And also that Odd-kun, and Sunny, and Moeka, are all … in a fake illusionary world, inside Parallaxia.")

(V: "Do you have a source to back that up?")

(A: "My source is I made it the fuck up.")

(V: "So, what? There's Parallaxia, the real world. Where we all were. And for some reason, there's a smaller world, inside Parallaxia—the reality of Parallax Manor, where time is looping. … So what, were we also in Parallax Manor as well?")

(A: "I mean—yeah. Because I was the first to break out of Parallax Manor. I remember, when I first ended up in the margins, I read that you were in Parallax Manor too. So I must've been there too. But I don't remember that. I just remember Parallaxia. … Here, you know what? Let me do a visual diagram.")

(V: "… You can do that?")

(A: "No idea. … Let's find out. Hhhhnnnggggg …")

Parallaxia (True reality; we died here)
>> Parallax Manor (Constructed reality within Parallaxia; Odd-kun's diary; time is looping)

(A: "Fuck. Me. Wow, that worked. That really hurt to do. … Is my nose bleeding?")

(V: "Dude. We don't have corporeal forms.")

(A: "Okay, but that diagram makes sense, right? True reality is Parallaxia. And Parallax Manor, where Odd-kun and the others are, is a constructed reality where time is looping, within Parallaxia. We were in the loop too, but we … died, and now we're here.")

(V: "Are we … dead for good? … Can we return to Parallaxia?")

(A: "…")

The bad scary man sometimes looks through our windows. He is scary and has only one eye and I don't like him. But Moeka she is the oldest so she is not scared and tells us to play away from the window so we don't see him.

(V: "Wait. Wait wait wait. I just thought of another thing.")

(A: "What?")

(V: "Parallaxia is true reality, but … we thought we were kids there. It's only after we died, and freed from the inner Parallax Manor loop, that we recognized our true adult selves. Doesn't that mean … Parallaxia is … false as well?")

(A: "…")

Well it is late Reader so I will see you tomorrow. Tomorrow we will have a big party for Sister Lumo and I hope she can show up.

Tomorrow will be a fun day.

*

- MONDAY -

Dear Reader,

My name is Odd-kun and I'm X years old.

I live in a big house with my friends …

(V: "You know what would be a fitting soundtrack right now?")

(A: "What?")

(V: "… 'Oddl**p'.")

(A: "Heh.")

(V: "Whoa! What was that!? Did I just get a chuckle out of you!?")

(A: "… Shut up. No you didn't.")

(V: "I totally did!")

… I hope Sister Lumo will show up to her birthday party tomorrow.

It will be a lot of fun.