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Monday, 16 February 2015
quote [ People always ask me if there is a God, if I saw it. I turn around and tell them ?Yes?. And then walk away. ]
Brilliant Darkness, by Carlos Mart?nez
Reveal People always ask me if there is a God, if I saw it. I turn around and tell them ?Yes?. And then walk away. Perhaps it is not the best moment to ask, they figure, and they go away. Some people have tried to explain my isolation, my lack of interest in a book deal or some shit like that in the fact that I spent seven hours dead, while the nanites were working on my brain and body to bring me back, even if most people are left alone after five hours. But my friends kept on trying, injecting me with more and more machine-filled liquid, while at the same time massaging my chest and stimulating my brain. Shit, I have no idea if I should be thankful for their efforts, or if I should go to each one of their places to kill their descendants and then their families, down to the youngest one. And maybe their fucking dogs or cats or whatsoever. They have no idea what they have done to me. I know they meant good anyway, which is why I contain myself. In the end, they are going to be on the same road I was, whether they were good or bad people. They are good, I know, and that is what really pisses me off about all this. There is no heaven, no hell. No fucking Budha or a place where all souls gather to play chess with their loved ones for eternity. No place where Hitler is slowly boiling in hot water forever. Not that he didn?t deserve what he got, but all of us are getting the same. I think it?s just some sort or nature thing going on, but I am sure that I am not going to get that shit happening to me ever again. I am not going to be eaten by nobody. The problem is that I just cannot tell anybody about this. They?ll just say ?dude spent like seven hours dead. Brain?s fried up? and would not believe me. And who would. You have all those returned, all those people coming back to life with a message of hope in another world. Telling you how they got to meet Grandma, the one they never knew, and then describe her with so much detail that their families believe it and would not question what happened. It?s not fucking Grandma asshole, just the signature of your soul and some selective memory by?. God? The point is, the whole idea is to get you trapped, so comfortable in death that you would not want to return. You know how people after five hours return as functional idiots? How they are able to respond like robots to orders and questions, but they are not really there anymore? Most people say that they got too damaged in death and the resuscitation process began too late and somehow it fails after five hours. Nope, they got trapped, they fell into the trap. Their souls were so happy there that they did not wish to return, not until it was too late. As soon as I remember all this and I begin to shake and it can get really bad sometimes. But I have to control myself. I will gain the upper hand. I will not be trapped again, not now that I know what really happens. I don?t really remember the accident, but I know that it was probably my fault. You must use proper protection when dealing with electricity, but I felt particularly apt at messing with it. In the end, I guess it was supposed to happen to me somehow. I don?t believe in coincidence, maybe something else was at hand, wanting me to find the truth. And it certainly wasn?t this ?God?. The first thing I remember was something like the light of a train in the distance, coming closer and closer and finally opening as a wide tunnel, wider than the Universe itself. When I saw that I immediately thought, ?Jesus, I am dead!.? I was a religious man then. Not anymore. It is just part of the trap. Then I saw people coming to me, nice familiar faces. I recognized mum and dad, my brother Kevin and even my dog Bean, all there, waiting for me. Some other people were there, and I knew them. My grandmother and grandfather, my childhood friends, and so many others, filling the gigantic horizon. ?Ben, it is so nice to see you?, Dad said, and he never looked any better. He was the man in his prime that I remembered, not the old dried up skeleton which was all that remained after a botched cancer treatment. My mom was also the beautiful tall blonde I remembered from my childhood, not the fat alcoholic which ended trying to substitute dad with just about any fucker she met at the bar. No, it was all fine. And then I knew I did not want to leave. But I had to, I really had to. I had a family, a boy who was growing up and I wanted to spare him all the suffering I endured in my youth. And I wanted to be back with him. My family was trying to convince me to remain there, with them, in that paradise of light, while Bean was curling in my legs, doing his best to make me scratch his belly. I wasn?t aware of it, but my friends were unto me as soon as I fell to the ground and were pumping me full of nanites and stimulants and electricity, trying to get me back. ?Ben, Jason is going to be fine. You?ll take care of him from here. We?ll all do it?, Mom said. Then Dad came to me, took me by the hands and told me: ?You know it son. This is the best for you. You have to think about yourself from time to time.? But I was so worried about my son. I was simply too scared by my childhood to just let go like that. I just couldn?t bear myself to do it. Even if everything was so nice and my family was there. I still had a responsibility back home. And by that time my family and all those close to me began to change their behavior. They began to push me, to tell me that I should stay, that nothing was as important as being there. The dog stopped playing with me and began to pull my leg. My father started to yell at me, telling me what a bad son I was, always disobeying and unreliable, while my mother screamed that I was never a good child, that I had to obey for a change. That was not the way I remembered my dad, not the way my dog behaved. The two closest beings to me would never behave like that, they would never snarl at me, they would never hurt me that way. I was with that dog until it died. I was every day with my father after school, tending him when mom was too tired after being with him the whole night. I did my homework and fed him. I crawled into bed with him when he was in pain, the horrible pain that he felt in every cell of his body, and clung to him crying, wishing to find a way to tear that disease from his body. I was with him when he died. What he was saying to me was not fair. What they all were doing, recriminating and pushing me, was unfair. And then it hit me, perhaps at the same time my friends were nearing the seventh hour of resucitation procedures, that something was wrong. This people around me, they were not my family. I felt a tug inside of me, a pull, and followed the direction of it with my gaze. The tunnel was there and I could see faces, faces which I vaguely recognized as my friends, out of focus and somehow strange. But my friends nevertheless. ?They are pulling me back. They are bringing me back?, I thougth. I moved into that direction, but as soon as I did my fake dad grabbed my shoulder and made me turn around. It was horrible. His face and body were becoming colorless, hollow, becoming one with the others, like if suddenly there were melted and joined. The dog was part of all that, everybody joining like an old photograph going out of focus and losing color, with all the depth real things have all gone, like when you remove the glasses in a 3D movie and then all starts to form a bubble, an empty space, little by little covered in black spots until all there is is black. An empty space of black, of nothing, but with a presence and the clear intention to keep me there. It was then when I realized I was half within something, something which was tearing me from the inside, making me fade. And I was feeling less and less myself, with the deepest cold growing inside of me. And it was then that I understood all. It was like that thing, that void, was inside my memories. And I saw so many things then. I saw the souls of men and women falling inside of it, the very essence of every living creature on Earth and the universe being consumed, disappearing in the void. And I understood that the void was alive somehow, feeding on me and many more, many more souls all over the universe, falling into the same trap it had presented to me before. No soul was too small, no soul was big enough. I felt the tug in the opposite direction again and jumped, with all my strength, and did it again and again, keeping the thing from sucking me dry. And it pulled me, and it kept trying, until I felt like I was plummeting into the light. I opened my eyes and saw familiar, tired faces around me. And then it was the dark again. I woke up in a hospital, felling like I had been trampled all over. I slipped in and out of consciousness for days, until I was able to remain awake. The doctors said that the tiredness I felt was perhaps due to all the nanites in my bloodstream, turning me off while trying to repair something. But I knew otherwhise. That thing almost drained me. A part of me is there, slowly being eaten through eternity by that fucker, and I was left with perhaps just a part of what was really me. My soul had been mutilated and reduced to stumps. And the stumps were not enough to fully live. And yet, I wasn?t going to let that thing get me again. I know that I can?t save everybody from that void, but I know I can save myself. I?ll be able to do it somehow. You see, the things I witnessed inside that thing are just to big to be remembered. The infinite number of souls devoured through history, through time and space. It is just impossible to remember. But I remember a few details. I remember a few times when the thing was unable to eat. Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Nuclear explosions, radiation accidents. Impossible spaceships crashing in incredible places. Amazing creatures reduced to nothingness by the acts of a rogue sun. I know how it is when someone dies in the heart of a melting reactor. It messes up everything. And how sorry that thing was for being unable to feed on so many souls going to waste. Even the soul ceases to exist in the middle of a nuclear explosion, a radiation burst. It?s just too much energy, too much fucking chaos. It dissolves everything and it ceases to exist. Even the soul. I am searching for places where nuclear tests are done, where a radiation burst can be achieved. And I travel the world to places like China, North Korea and Russia, looking for a place to put what little remains of my soul to rest. It has to be something big, but I will find it. You know how people commit suicide when they can?t take life anymore? Well, I am going to commit suicide of the soul, because I can?t take whatever is waiting for me in the other side. I have plenty of time. I have been looking for 95 years now. I was so pumped on nanites that according to the doctors there is no way to tell when I will die. My case prompted authorities to forbade the use of the nanites after the five hours period. They say I was lucky to come somehow functional after my ordeal. Fucking idiots. I know some people have done the nanite thing, but it is fairly uncommon and strongly prosecuted. Besides, human life is pretty long already, just not long enough as to be away from that thing. I left my child when he became an adult. And I have not seen him in 76 years. I can?t bare to think what would happen to him when he dies and sees ?me? greeting him at the other side. At a trap to keep him at close range to a predator. If only there was a way to stop it and save everybody, but there is not. I know, because it is one of the things I remember. There is no scape from it. It waits there and has waited forever and will remain forever, because time does not exists for it. And I know what it is, because it told me so when I was trying to get away from it, and I am reminded every time I fall sleep and see that nothingness draining my soul, angry at me for trying to leave. ?This is what I made you all for. This is what you are?. So, when someone asks me if there is a God, I say ?Yes?, and then I walk away. I have seen it, and I know the exact reason he made us, as well as the whole universe. This is only a slaugther house.
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robotroadkill said @ 1:05pm GMT on 16th February
You did:
When it should have been
robotroadkill said @ 8:07am GMT on 16th February
You did:
'
When it should have been
'
robotroadkill said @ 8:08am GMT on 16th February
Goddammit my phony tags keep disappearing.
<-- Entry / Current Comment
robotroadkill said @ 1:05pm GMT on 16th February
Goddammit my phony tags keep disappearing.
Again, please keep it in one post per story, use the spoiler tags and if you are planning to post something big, maybe you can use something like Wordpress and link it here.
Thank you guys and gals and bring them on.