I must go to her, I can feel her pain, her terror. I can feel her cry out from the abyss lost in the the eternity of the Styx. The entirety of time and space can drive a person insane. I must go to her and take away the pain. She saved me, she kept me from drowning. I owe this creature my very existence. The pain and misery the poor creature is experiencing chills me to the very core. I cannot leave her alone in this universe. I must bring her into the fold. What she has seen cannot be unseen. One cannot unlearn the very fabric and construct of the universe itself.
I walk from one part of the world to the next as if stepping through a door and I find myself in the middle east embroiled in religious dogma, the women here live a life of slavery and misery, In time I will change this and return this part of the world to its natural evolutionary course. Humans hold themselves back with the childish notion of punishment from an omnipotent being. To imagine the creator of everything to be such a jealous and dogmatic child is an invention of man. If they were to ever meet God they would be stunned by what they find. The creator is wise beyond comprehension and does not concern it self with trivialities. Religion is just a construct for control of the masses preaching punishment and reward for following the whims of those in power. If the populace were ever truly to awake from their slumber they would drag their would be gods through the streets and hang them from the nearest bridge. I will awaken them.
I find myself in the middle of a busy intersection, men in black uniforms and heavy assault rifles have checkpoints set up as women dressed form head to toe in robes are hidden from the world to protect the fragile sexual ID of their owners. These women are not wives, they are slaves.
Their lives controlled by their oppressors. There is no joy, no laughter only strict obedience and the fear of a gruesome death. This is not life, this is hell brought to Earth for these poor victims. Their only purpose is reproduction of more oppressors. It is a machine forged in the pits of hades, creating cruelty wherever it is. Humans are not objects for ownership and control. Each life is precious, each memory is an emerald to be treasured and added to the collective knowledge of the race. It is sad how history is forgotten and sugar coated to protect the elite.
I digress in my description, I tend to rant about my thoughts and I apologize to my readers.
I found myself immediately surround by several angry and confused men trying to understand where I came from. In their point of view i just appeared in front of them. I had not attempted to disguise myself so I must have been a fearful sight to the eyes of the children. Although by your sense they would be grown men, I see them as children. There is no maturity here, only sexual and physical control.
Like out of control teenagers struggling with raw emotion and overflowing hormones. Their aggression was immediate. To them I looked like a vision of pure terror. In my truest form I am nothing but a skeleton in a long black coat and black slacks. I am not the vision of the reaper so often depicted in books and television when i come to earth. I have no race, no ethnicity or culture so i appear as the bare bones of humanity, stripped down for the world to see. A cane adorned with a crystal skull held by 4 ivory skeletons and a length of dark oak rested firmly in my bony left hand. I had no time for these savages I needed to find my anchor.
I looked to each of these children and as they peered into the eyeless sockets of my skull one by one they dropped to the ground writhing in agony reliving every sin they had committed through the eyes and bodies of their victims. Their punishment was immediate and thorns came from the ground and enveloped them cocooning them in their torture to be reborn later to serve me. I strolled away as astonished and fearful witnesses looked on. Oh the stories that will be told of this event.
I will find her.
No comments:
Post a Comment