Wow. Can I just say wow? My schedule has finally - FINALLY - shifted back to something actually human.
And dangit, why is The Lorax going to take so long to come out on DVD?
01. Alone
The Once-ler knew the feeling well. Alone. Lonely.
Mother let him be most of the time, sending him off with wave of her wrist, as much as a dismissal as he might expect.
His Aunt Grizelda called on him for chores.
Uncle Ubb never called.
The school kids called him spider-legs, scarecrow, freak.
Bret and Chet had each other.
But one was all he was. One. The Once-ler in name and in practice.
He learned to live. He had dreams, and the determination to reach them. He didn't need to rely on people.
One day, they'd rely on him instead.
02. Dreamer
The Once-ler stretches out, back on the grass as the truffula trees stretch on overhead. He's a far cry from his days as a child, yet really, not so different.
He lets the sway of the trees, the soft scent of butterfly milk, lull him to a half-daze, sleep touching his eyelids as they world draws away.
They'll love us, a voice whispers in the haze. They'll love us forever. We'll be needed. Never forgotten. We'll change the face of mankind. We can do this! We can!
His voice? Maybe. He smiles in sleep and lets the dream lay claim.
03. Greed
"The trees, beanpole-!"
"Oh, shut it! Why must I let a few twigs stand in the way of Progress?" the Once-ler shouts.
It's funny how it doesn't sound like him at all. Hidden away within his mind, what is this thing that wears his face? The Lorax yells and spits and bites as security drags him away.
The Once-ler is left pondering, wondering, faintly, briefly, when his dreams stopped being about helping the world and started being about mountains of cash.
We're just doing what comes naturally. We'll get bigger… and bigger… and bigger…
The green haze grows stronger.
04. Loathing
Look at what you've done!
The thought burns like the acid rain that still falls from the skies, blackened, polluted. His lungs burn with every labored breath.
Look upon your glorious work, O Great Once-ler! Do you finally see what I see this time?
He sees the face in every mirror. Features twisted, like a reflection in melted glass. Leering from every dark corner.
The mirrors are broken but the image remains.
How many dead? How many dying? Is your money lust sated now, you beast?
He's all alone, but he's always been that way. The voices never stop though.
05. Alone Again
The years pass. The voices grow hoarse.
The Dreamer is dead. The thoughts of what-could've-been have all but died, withered and anorexic from disuse. The faint gleam of hope - - a little seed, a tiny seed, but hope nonetheless - - teases it.
The Greed is gone. That voice died the swiftest, brought to a crumbling death when nothing more could sustain it. The Once-ler weeds it from his mind with every passing thought it makes, dreaming of profits from the last seed. He cannot give into temptation.
The Loathing remains, the sole friend and occupant. Some days it renames itself Anger, and he rages at everything and nothing, but mostly just at himself. Eventually, though, even Loathing, old friend, is too difficult to maintain.
And he's alone again.
That felt a little sub-par, but I'm a little rusty. Why is all of my stuff so dang sad?
Seriously, let's see if I'm even capable of filling something happy anymore. Any happy prompts, guys?
...I hope I didn't lose too many of you guys...