I crashed through the 4th wall and meta Nat

[tectak]

I crashed through the 4th wall, and meta Nat
 
It seems that I have both eyes and mouth, and maybe sometimes ears, but as the song says, ”I  ain't got no body.” I’m a literary Shaman, but as soon as you quit reading I cease to exists, or maybe I’ll get lucky and get stuck in your mind. Still, I have no back story like where was I born, what color of hair I have, and so on. I have nothing that defines me. I have thought a lot about this (“obviously”, as I roll my eyes), and I think it would be beneficial if I had a name, so… you can call me Nat: Nat the Narrator, but just “Nat” will do. Of course there remains the problem that we can have no discourse with each other. You can hear me, but can’t respond, and vice versa, or some such. However, I think I have a solution, if you are willing to try, and by you I mean the person currently reading my words. Maybe you could remember me (Nat), when you are in bed and settling down for some sleeping, but before you are asleep, bring me up and then while I am in your mind we could have a conversation. The writer of this cares not a wit about my welfare, he simply uses me then cast me aside. If I had a butt, I’d fart in his face. So please take me into your mind, give me a body, and maybe some clothes out of the Victorian period. The writer of this would never wear something that constricting, as he is very claustrophobic (and very fat). Maybe after awhile you could give me some hair. As opposed to the writer, I am tall and thin, while he is… well, short. Which probably has something to do with him having only part of his left leg.. He used to be a philosophical anthropologist, or at least that’s what he called himself (if he had called himself stupid he would have suffered less, and been more accurate). He was trying to observe a new tribe, in South America, but they caught him doing so. The particulars are probably not needed, but as they are embarrassing I will tell you anyway. He was on a hill where he could look down on this tribe, and was doing so through a set of binoculars. What he was observing was a couple have sex right in the middle of the village. Well you can imagine what he was doing while he “observed”, and as the couple finish several minutes before him the noise he was making exposed himself to the tribe. The unfortunate thing for him was these people were cannibals. They chopped off his left leg right above the knee, then cauterized the stump to keep it from getting infected. They like to keep their meat fresh for latter use. Unfortunately for the poor cannibals there was a group of DEA agents nearby, and when they heard him scream, they came and rescued him. Oh, sorry about lapsing into the narrative, but at times it is unavoidable as it is inherent in my nature.
Anyway, if you could take pity on me and call me up for a few minutes each evening we can have a conversation, and if you were to do this every night, you could help flesh me out. That’s not strange or weird is it? Anyway, I thank you for your time, Nat.  
 
–Erthona
 
©2014      

Dale, you may be fictional but you are STILL functional. I don't like everything you write but what I don't like isn't everything....and I DO like this!
Best,
tectak