OriFic Deep and Quiet Voices (I'm Listening)

and i think the story is completed. i want to think of some other variations, but i'm sure you guys can write it much better, now that i got the concept down in the synopsis.

thanks for reading thus far.

 

Prologue : My Name is Mike

Spoiler: Prologue

"I just wanted to say, my name is Mike. It's been such a long and arduous year, but I finally finished college. It feels so good."

"Still, when I look at those around me, those around my age—most of them already so successful, and it took so long for me just to finish school."

"Even as I finished my education, I learned nothing much. I'm still useless, I couldn't hope to get a decent job, not even those that I like. I'm the furthest away of being a hard-worker. My future is bleak."

"It may sound little strange talking to a static radio like this, but I really need someone to listen, since right now, I feel really, really sad. It's been a while since I have someone who will pay attention to me."

"Um, well. First of all...how should I put it. I have a hobby. I pour my feelings to it, but I'm afraid to let people know of it, and when I do, people never look at me. No matter how much I worked. I'm still that good-for-nothing, regardless how much I tried."

"That's how I basically got discouraged when I wanted to start a career based upon my hobby. When they said, you've got to try harder, I don't know if I could still keep up. I want to give up, but if I give up, I don't know if I have anything else in life. It's so complicated really."

"Here is why I wanted to talk. I hope, that in the future, there will be more and more people who will appreciate my hard work. I am lazy, because I know, that even if I work hard, I won't get the reward I deserve. If only I could be rewarded accordingly when I tried my best, I will always be doing so."

"It may be selfish to me, but I know, if I have the right people rooting for me, even a useless person like me can do great. I really need your help, I truly, have no one else in this world I can count on."

"So please, whoever on the other side of this radio, please, help me. I do not wish to be alone forever."

During that time, where a radio was supposed to emit a static sound, Mike's voice could be heard everywhere in the world. It had made quite an impression on some people, though there were quite a lot who ignored his calls as well.

No one knows what happened to Mike after that. Though, after Mike's call of plea, people had figured out, more or less, the existence of Radio Heartache.

Mike's first step forward was only the beginning of more desperate cries to come. A crime to either help themselves or might be, their final message.

Somewhere, out there in the world. One wants to believe, that Mike was never there again, since he was happy in another place, where he would finally get the appreciation he deserved.

 

Good luck with it.. i like the story line somehow, hope the next chapter come out sooner


See? I'm Listening

 

ya gw ini mikirnya lebih pada kumpulan monolog aja sih ketimbang cerita yg penuh intrik tapi gk tau juga mungkin ke depan'e bakal berkembang ke arah mana.

anyway, thx a lot udah mampir

 

Halah.. meski cuma monologue, menurut gw ceritanya cukup menarik kok untuk dikembangkan.. gw sih ga bisa nulis,
tapi mungkin gw pembaca yang baik, yang biasa nya bisa nentuin sebuah cerita menarik atau engga dengan sedikit lirik doang

kalo ceritanya terlalu komplex juga gw males baca, biasa langsung gw lewatin, tapi tadi pas ngintip dikit .. ternyata lumayan juga buat bacaan sambil guling guling di kasur

 

well klo gw sendiri bukan penggemar tipe cerita yg terlalu kompleks juga lol

ya, anggap aja ini kayak suatu variasi radio curhat mirip2 yang ada di galau jikan fm ya bisa2 aja sih dinikmati sambil di kasur.

 

bahahaha tapi serius, tulisan ini cukup inspiratif juga buat gw..
gw jadi pingin ikut belajar coret coret cerita juga di sini wkwkwkwkw

ya untuk sementara sih baru angan - angan tapi siapa tau suatu saat bisa jadi nyata wohoo

 

well ya, glad you feel inspired lah

okelah, santai aja nulis dikit2 dulu, ntar pas situ lagi mood ya post aja

 

wasik dah... iya dah nanti gw coba coret coret pas lagi iseng,
gw coba nanti bikin soal real life problem aja yang simpe dan ringan, siapa tau bisa jadi cerita horor yang baik dan seram #eh

ohh ya.. ditunggu kelanjutan ceritanya yakk.. semoga lancar dan lebih menarik dari yang sudah ada

 

oke deh, nanti bakal coba gw bikin lanjutan'e

 

Voice 1 : The Author

Spoiler: Voice 1

"Like I said, I don't want to write this story anymore. I can't possibly cope up to their expectations. Even if presumably, I wrote for myself, I'm still unable to work on all of these plotholes which grew more and more severe as the story goes."

There was a grunting sound in that sufficiently lit room. Someone was typing out the words in his head in his computer. He wasn't either old or young—more like, in his early thirties. He had trouble speaking his mind out, so he wrote it down. There was a static sound from his computer speakers; he himself had heard the urban legend of Radio Heartache.

Since he didn't have a radio, he used his internet connection to tune in that peculiar station. Normally, there would be something airing, but this time, it's dead quiet, and not just because it's deep in nightime.

He awaited, and awaited for someone to speak his mind out—in hopes he would find the answer he was waiting for—how to continue his story. Instead, it took him by surprise, that as soon as he typed out the words, the first voice he heard was the ones from his own mind. It bewildered him as he heard his own speech in fluency, while in usual, he stuttered so much even while trying to initiate casual responses.

Such as, during one time he went towards the convenience store to grab a cup noodle, and his eyes met a beautiful store clerk late at night—it's not just his words stuttering. Just as he went to grab some cents from his pocket, his hand trembled and made those coins drop on the floor. As he tried to pick them up, he ended up dropping it again and again a few times until it was the clerk who picked those up; she giggled to the man's bizaare acts.

He wasn't actually a famous Author. He got stories written in a magazine which compiled works of fiction by various Authors. It ran bi-weekly. Some were series, and others one-shots. There were also slots for rookie Authors to join and sent their work. As in rookie, was an Author who never had their own novel published, and never had their works published before in the magazine.

This peculiar Author's fiction was on the verge of being dropped out due to the decline in popularity during the past few months. The story was going nowhere, and he kept it a certain arc where the main cast were basically doing things that advanced the plot so little in each publication. There were various criticisms, some even downright hurtful, but this Author didn't care.

He just wanted the money; even though it wasn't much, it was able to keep him alive during these past years. The peculiar work of his started its serialization during last year, and it was met with quite a hype, though as the story went past its first arc, all of the excitement started to dwindle down.

His editor told him once: his greatest feats were about making a story concept an a good opening, but he wasn't good enough to execute a solid scenario from the start to finish.

"Mr. Tatsuma said, it was like I was writing just to impress people at the first glance. By devising something that is out of ordinary, but it actually something I know nothing about. I delve in so deep without knowledge how it should go."

Pondering about how he started being serious as an Author, he wrote about his editor's remark. He was quite dejected to it, even more, when it's someone who read his works a lot. If it was someone else, he could just say: you don't know anything about my work, you only read few paragraphs of it and said it's a mess.

He was supposed to have a meeting with his editor tomorrow, to finally decide which direction the story was going. Based upon the recent meeting, he knew, that no matter what he decided, the story's going to be kicked out sooner or later.

"I know this story is a mess, but I gotta put a good end to it." he typed.

Actually hearing the words he typed, as opposed to just imagining things, had sparked something in him.

"What if...I actually tried re-typing a peculiar chapter I was interested in? That way, I could actually hear the narration, the characters' dialogues and also, their depth of emotions—I know some things ain't enough to be described in mere words."

As he actually re-typed his story, it's not his own voice that came out, but the soft-spoken and inviting voice of a narrator, the brash indifferent talk of the main character, the raspy voice of the main heroine, and even those sound effects that were just text only were rendered as if it were a movie.

He noticed, that his weakness in developing the story was his way of describing things that were way too plain to make the story interesting. The development after the first arc, had left him with not much motivation due to the way he wrote, was like he merely described it as something that happen in the past, as opposed to him experiencing a powerful sensation right at that moment.

As he revised his choice of words and how the scene went by, it began to evoke a much vivid imagery, even if just in the medium of voice alone.

"I finally decided. I'm going to just drop this story during the next issue. I need to work on it from the scratch. With this voice-over medium, I reckon I can make something much more interesting. I will resubmit this as a light novel series to a major publisher—this is what I'm going to tell to my editor."

Though, that was the last thing he heard from the radio tune on his computer before it slowly reverted back to static noises.

He thought: well, most likely I didn't feel depressed anymore.

The next morning, he got a message from his editor, saying that his story was already dropped from the next issue.

"Can you please post an announcement that I would be submitting a reboot to another publisher?" his reply to the message.

"People just want to forget such atrocity exist. Someone incompetent like you won't have any future."

"My future is not yours to decide."

It was a bold reply, as if making a bluff, that they were losing someone very important.

The editor didn't reply.

He told himself, money might be short, but he'll get by.

Even if he didn't actually hear the details through the medium of sound, he invented himself a new way of writing which would make it enjoyable for him to write, as an experience, not simply penning down great ideas to impress people.

His draft was finally complete before he had to get in debt due to the shortage of money. This time, instead of closing up to the editors only, he decided to ask for feedback from his neighbors who were in the appropriate age audience, mainly high school to university students.

The feedback was generally favorable, but even as he received something that he used to think as harsh, he just shrugged it off, saying: well, I hope I can improve that aspect the best I can, thanks for your input.

Hearing his financial problems, the college students cooked him meals occassionally.

After garnering enough support, and sufficiently healthy meals, he submitted those to various major publishers. Of course, it wasn't immediately accepted during the first tries, but after an umpteenth time, when he heard of an independent publisher which took interest in his idea, he departed from Tokyo towards that place, along with all of his belongings.

He decided, even if he didn't get accepted, he would want a change a scenery from the vast urban areas to a somewhat rural place. To make a long story short, yes, his draft finally got accepted, and the laid-back scenery of the villages truly helped him relax. More importantly, the cheap costs of living in the countryside had made it much easier for him to live comfortably.

Contrary to your expectations, the light novel actually wasn't that popular. It had generally mixed reviews. At least, the royalty from the sales was a bit more than enough to cover his living costs.

One important thing to take note of, was the stack of fan letters sent to him from time to time. This was probably his first time being an Author, in which he heard people genuinely loving his work, regardless on how not many people thought of it as good.

The light novel series ended in a good note, and he started to get offers from major publishers in Tokyo due to his success, but he'd rather stay in the village.

It was a year later, particularly 2014, that he finally wrote his first major hit. He wasn't quite an early starter at the age of 32, but he finally pulled it through. He stayed with the publisher which established him as an Author, and he made them big enough to circulate his light novel series nationwide.

That was the story of Kazuma Kenichi, the Author of the light novel series, Darkest Power, which was adapted into anime that's airing during this Spring 2016.

We hope you enjoy the ongoing series as much as we do.

In honor of Mr. Kazuma Kenichi, we would like to close this chapter by presenting his favorite quote:

"It is not others who decide your own future. It will be there for you when you think all is finally lost."

 

Voice 2 : The Lazy Bum

Spoiler: Voice 2

"I do not wish to do anything. I'd rather sleep all day than having to bother with stuff. Life will be much better if I didn't have to work to get money I wanted to play games all day and sleep whenever I want—such is the life I desired."

"If I will have a job, I want to be testing beds. That way, I can play all day just so I can sleep at work. Could care less about starting a family, it's already a handful just taking care of myself."

"Why is this radio even here? Come on, it's not like I was depressed or anything. It's more likely that I was happy not having to do anything right at this moment-- or did it seem that I couldn't do anything at all?"

"Hey, at the very least, I could say my own honest feelings. Ah yes, money's been short during this month. Uncle doesn't want to care about my bills anymore. It's alright, it's not like I need to live that long. I could say that i lived my fullest for this day."

"I'd rather kill myself through sleep than having to work in a way I dislike. That's just how I am. In my bones and with blood flowing through my veins, there's just some unparalleled disdain for working my ass off."

"I always hold off everything up until the last minute. I kept thinking, well, if only things would be so easy and not that pain in the ass to do, I might actually be an accomplished artist. Yet, what could I do right now—modern art? I was too lazy to even do that."

"You know, even as the lazy bum I am, I never cease to think about life and how all of these things people think about are just so superficial. I do not wish to live the same way as they did. In my honest thoughts, I just wanted to be a NEET god. Not having to do anything, unless I want to. A life that doesn't have to be taken seriously."

"That is why, if you took my words seriously, you're also a fool, but a kind of fool that I want to associate with. I myself thought of my beliefs as ridiculous, but I couldn't really help it. This is the laziness that define who I am and what I wanna be."

"...and so forth, I want to keep on being lazy for the rest of my life. I vowed never to take any painful work, ever, not even during the most dire of situations. This is me, the Lazy Bum, signing off."

Actually, that was the first time that a person's message to the radio didn't get through to anyone.

Since, after all, no one was as lazy as him, or they might be far too unmotivated to even wake up and tune in the radio.

 

yeeey akhirnya keluar juga ceritanya, thanks ya ternyata curhatan gw didengar juga hahahahah

 

Voice 3 : The Graduate

Spoiler: Voice 3

"So, I finally was able to graduate from University and my parents asked me: when will you find work? I told them, I would soon enough, I just need a lot of time to think about the kind of work I really want to do."

"To be honest, however, I'm not sure if I was able to work at all. I mean, something like going in a routine schedule to an office building and do the most boring things ever for the rest of my life. I sure couldn't stand it."

"Add that with the long working hours and the co-workers that hated you more than anyone else just because you exist, the boss who didn't have the ability to be reasonable in the slightest. I know what it's like, I heard it from those suffering from work. To me, working in such environment was more or less the same as committing suicide. Though it would be long and painful."

"My first list of complaints wasn't about the things that the working people around me usually find. My biggest complain was that, I had to follow a certain schedule when I went to work, and that I also had to commute."

"I didn't mind long working hours if the job was actually fun and the people were understanding. Though yeah, I really hate having to commute when I, everyday, could just walk a little to class during my four years in the University."

"In any case, well, I was actually looking forward to find a job that's my calling. Since when I was in my room, I felt rather empty, I didn't actually have a purpose in life rather than just not wanting to work and have fun all day. I really have nothing much to strive for really."

"After that, I didn't really know. Maybe, all of it stems from the people I work with. In real life, I was really shy, I never tried to initiate conversations on my own. Never had any friends whom I could stick around with. I was always alone, but if I could work with people whom I would feel comfortable with and working in things that I love, I think it would be my dream job."

"The things I love involve writing my thoughts and feelings. I also love to play sandbox games and I enjoy peculiar bits of stories. Those that were simply fun and amusing, not to mention easy to understand, were amongst my top picks. Nowadays I nitpick every single story that I found, I need them to bring something new and fresh to the table, at least in a way that I wouldn't be bored, and I would get something out of it."

"Maybe, after all, my real enjoyment was about finding a story that I could fell in love with. Either if it was through books, movies, games, or any kind of medium, I sure love stories. Wouldn't really get out of my way to find them though. I just wait naturally as I experience my own kind of story: the series of conflicts and resolutions."

"I wasn't sure however, if I could make a living out of finding a story and enjoying it, be a some kind of curator rather than a critic, but I think, the main problem was me being so desperate to find my way through, trying to reach out to things that will get me out, from the trap of strenuous working hours in which a lot of people fell onto."

"I finally know, to make things work, I need to take my time and take a moment to inhale deeply the fresh air from outside."

"Maybe I'll found the right things for me to do. Finally being the right man in the right place."

As the graduate finished talking his mind out, the radio emitted the voice of an old man which he was familiar of.

It was his professor, who supervised his graduation thesis until he actually able to pass.

"Are you sure you weren't undervaluing your talents?" the professor said.

"I had no talent. In the first place, talent is just a load of bull—it's all hard work."

"It's because you think that you had no talent, which makes you never took anything seriously. Alright, how about I give you a talent? Not everyone has it, so it will make you special."

"What talent is it?"

"The talent to realize your own talents and how you can do your best to develop them."

As the professor finished his speech, the radio reverted back to a static sound. The graduate spent entire night pondering about what the professor meant by 'that peculiar talent', but it's more like he already slept all day, which made him unable to sleep a wink at night.

When he started to yawn, he was like 'oh well' and went back to his bed.

The answer will come in due time, he thought.

 

Voice 4 : A Certain Nobody

Spoiler: aaa

"I don't know why am I talking to a static sound. I just heard rumors from the internet, that this thing would make me feel better about myself."

"To tell you the truth, I was kind of a maniac for attention. Each day I spent yearning for the acceptance of others, and when they ignored me or hated me, I felt really bad that I'm starting to feel that I'm worthless."

"I want to find myself contributing good things to those around me, yet it's never worked out the way I wanted to. When I worked so hard on something, no one actually cared. Yet, there were times where I just went like whatever and that's where people came. They went by as they please. It's like most of your efforts didn't matter if it didn't appeal to them."

"Well, it's been a driving force in which made me went to bed early and slept at given time, since I was looking forward for the reactions to the things I worked on. I guess you could say, there was a positive thing about it, since before I tried clinging to their attention, I felt rather lethargic and have no real cause to live."

"Maybe, I've been taking things to the extreme. Like it was a part of me, akin to a desire to eat or sleep. Without all of these I would feel weak and vulnerable. The thing is, I could eat or sleep when I want to, but as for getting the appreciation, was it really up to me though? I think it should."

"It feels good to know, if yourself being appreciated by people is all up to your own abilities, instead of it being outside your control. I wish to think, that everyone out there had sets of preferences, no matter how 'out there' you're working on, there's ought to be someone who can appreciate your work, when you put your best efforts onto it."

"As a consolation prize, if there's not really anyone dropping by, I could say I've done something, and those fruits of labor would be there forever. It was a part of the past that will shape my own present and future."

"in any case, I might always feel bad about no one appreciating my hard work, but well, I've always been a nobody for as long as I knew. Even if I wanted others to take notice, I wish, above all, that these works would be the gateway to my own personal development, which motivates me to live a better life for myself."

"Even with all of that going on. I'm still unsure, whether my choices were right or wrong. I hope it was the right one since I opt for it, from the bottom of my heart."

That's right.

If you haven't realized already, the radio waves would appear as a static to those who weren't really depressed, but their words would reach out to those who could hear those static. It would be sent to those needing it the most. For those really depressed, it might probably appear as some sort of dialogue.

...though, it doesn't mean that the radio would always give the people what they wanted to hear. Sometimes, the cure for their depression would simply came with the words: stop being immature, just grow up already you prick.

It was just like the gifts from God. The one who supposedly knows best about what you want, but it's all up to you, whether you want to make best use of it, or simply ignore it.

The radio wasn't there to simply pander to those who were just looking for acceptance for their depression. Since they couldn't choose which message was actually there.

It was there for them to drive to the unknown, to accept the things they once rejected about themselves, which might be the main cause of unhappiness.

When people realize it, the radio's popularity dwindled down a lot.

The most who got things out of it, was actually those who were not depressed and just wanting to share something which would benefit others who were about ot end their lives. Though, as for how they would make use of it, in the end, it's all up to them.

People could give help and support they want, but in the end, no one could be saved if they couldn't ever save themselves—that's what people whom I looked up once told me.

As the words of the radio seeped through me and the voices reverted back to a static, I wonder if I can ponder about my life in a rather bleak outlook, so those uplifting voices would come again?

What if I got addicted to being depressed, so I could listen to their voices?

I don't know for sure, but what if, the radio would tune in based upon my own feelings as for today?

In any case, I kinda recorded the radio to my computer. It might be a pain shuffling through the small part of voices as compared to the static parts but I could just fast forward it and soon enough a significant portion would be unveiled.

That's how I managed to document all the voices in the radio in the first place, after all. Since not all of you could listen to the radio and probably won't encounter those voices when you need to, I might as well preserve it.

Thanks for your attention thus far.

 

CIee.. semangat banget pagi pagi udah posting chapter baru.. Ganbatee brb lanjutin baca sambungan kemaren

 

btw itu sambungannya gk terlalu berhubungan ma chapter2 sebelumnya sih

jd tiap chapter bs berdiri sendiri, klo dirasa gk menarik bisa langsung diskip dan tetep bisa nikmatin chapter laen'e

 

Voice 5 : Riddled With Boredom

Spoiler: voice 5

"It's been a while since I got something exciting to do. Nowadays, I've done nothing at all. As a result, this boredom is killing me. I realize I've got to say something or else my entire soul would die down in agony."

"First of all, I felt like, this world doesn't offer any kind of exciting things lately. I've seen most of the happenings lately as something stupid and pointless. Any kind of stuff they found exciting, I just found them to have a bad taste. All this time, I've been waiting for amazing stuff to come to me, yet all of it was just for naught."

"The same games, I kept playing. The new, games, I bought them during sales but never got to play them since I actually got no interest in it. I was just simply running them on idle for about 3 hours in hopes I got all the card drops. After that , there's always a chance for cards to drop in which I could sell for real money. Free money is always nice."

"In the shows I haven't watched yet, but already on my drive, I felt reluctant to open them. It would just be some boring plotlines. I could imagine something better and actually kind of out there and exciting, but I felt so lazy to write it."

"I just felt totally bummed to do anything. My natural state was something with activity meter so low I could nearly be considered vegetable. Like one of my joke dreams—I wished to be a carrot. I figure, it might be pointless to try to go based on my natural calling. I would just end up doing nothing and live an absolutely monotonous life. I need to change it right now, and right away."

"So, here's why I was going to say this. Just as I listened to your radio broadcasts, it actually was a haven for me amidst this banal life. It finally inspired me to speak my mind off."

"Well, to be honest, I hope my life would be just as exciting as what happened in my dream. Like the time I was driving a bus in some hi-tech suburban area and eventually crashed down towards the pedestrian bridge—everything just explodes beautifully after that."

"I wish life could be really fun, such as when I killed everyone they ever loved and hummiliate their corpses. I sure want to cause a chaos. If everything was just a dream, I might as well try to torture and murder everyone around me since this boredom surely made me want to try something wicked. I wish to cause pain to everyone else for my amusement."

"After that, I'm going to hang myself in my dream, and set a time bomb, just few moments before I died, a nuclear bomb would demolish the entire area and cause nasty mutations towards everyone hundreds of kilometers away. It would be nice to watch the entire world burn because I was just so damn bored."

"Let's just start with you there, who were listening to this voice right now. I'm going to kill you and mess up your corpse."

The recording was sent to the police but strangely enough, no one could identify the voice's owner.

Of course, no one died, since deep down, they're already dead inside.

From the very beginning, they were raised to not even be alive.

The society of walking dead.

 

Voice 6 : A Deep and Quiet Voice (Nobody's Listening)

Spoiler: Voice 6

"You know, I most likely shouldn't think at all, I really am no good at thinking."

"...."

End