Tag Archives: Fiction

Imagine a human race like me

Imagine a world where everyone was like me…

image

(I‘d be the one floating on the left.)

There would be no earthquakes because we would all just be featherweights –with very low BMIs –floating on the planet; and there would be nobody throwing his weight around and acting like a bully.
Seriously, I don’t bully people psychologically or otherwise. People may have felt bullied by a normal part of me, but I try to discourage it when I notice it.
Also, there would be no need for parachutes –for same reason as above, Sherlock! Sincerely, he that is “humble” need fear no fall. I don’t shatter when I fall or commit errors or am having a rough life.

We wouldn’t need elevators up skyscrapers because –yes, you are right –I am long. Not just tall.
I really don’t know how to feel inferior. I have this delusion that makes me believe no human being is eternal. We be all mere mortals. Only one ultimate Creator. I really am not moved when a random mortal refuses to acknowledge the fact. “For his/her pocket!” Denying that fact doesn’t place the fellow above me.
So, there would be no bullying or inferiority complex. None to look down your nose at or humiliate and none can feel humiliated.

We would not need microscopes or telescopes because of the bird-eye I have.
And there would be no need for lie-detection. We know the next fellow is a human lie-detector and can see through us. No, that is not why lie-detectors would be useless. It is because we would all be smart enough to know how to keep poker faces –at the least –or throw the next fellow off with a misleading body gesture; and because we know the next fellow is thinking like this, we don’t bother trying to analyse each other. I didn’t mention the machine because the mechanical lie-detectors are way too easy to evade for this race of humans.

We would all just be nervous bunches of people suspicious of each other, not because we are actually evil by nature, but for the inevitably unnerving pupils that I have.

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(Left. Tried rolling my eyes a bit so as not to scare you with my direct gaze.)

As a “complement” to my warm personality, my eyes generate atypical reactions from people who gaze into it.

Before I turn in the continuation at my next post, I would love to see links from commenters to their posts on what the world would be like if all humans looked like them physically. Nothing deep or philosophical please. The only exemptions I may possibly permit are Julien (of julienmatei) and Paul (of poesypluspolemics). A world like those two would be simply unimaginable. Hahahahahahaha!!!

Are you game?

S T R U C K ! ! !

English: African Lion and Eland Antelope skele...

English: African Lion and Eland Antelope skeleton diorama to be displayed in the Museum of Osteology. Photo by Jay Villemarette (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

So hear
You know I am already a fool
When it comes to you
I stalk you like a haunter
A haunter ill-prepared
To apprehend the victim
So that each time
I come close to you
I am all amped up
Adrenaline pouring through my blood
As I prepare to hop on you
And claim you for myself
But at the climax of my anxiety
I am reminded that
There really is no way to bring it through
This lack makes me burn hotter with sickening desire

For a moment
You look in my direction
Just in time to see me on fire
Oh darn! I reek of burns
I try to run away
But the trail of smoke betrays me wickedly
You try to reach for me
But, again, I think
What will be the end to it
What happens after you catch up to me
Stand and stare me in the face
So I run
Adrenaline oozing through my sweat
A strong pheromone
On someone dreading attention
And you chase me
Why you do I don’t know
But I won’t even dare to ask that
If and when you should catch up with me

I just run
Like a foolish lion
Who faced a horned antelope
To discover late
That he hadn’t grown any tooth or claw!

The Showdown

English: The "sigil of Lucifer", use...

Fuentes del angel caido - Fountain of the fall...

Fuentes del angel caido – Fountain of the fallen angel (Photo credit: chrisfreeland2002)

Stained glass at St John the Baptist's Anglica...

 

 

Prologue
This 6th day of the month of January in the year 2013 AD, I, the Enchanted Seer, give this prophecy:
The 31st day of April, 2013 will be the debut of the well-known spiritual leader, who actually is named Deceptor Luciferibus. He shall desire to make an appealing public appearance and win the hearts of the masses. I see him aglow in the full worship of the media as the lights pour on him and the human world watches. Then one called the Enchanted Writer shall approach him in dialogue.
——————————————————————————————-
Enchanted Writer: Sir, you daze many when you miraculously turn stones into food to feed many of your followers. Further, many have referred to your motivation and ministration sessions as soul-doping because of the euphoria of these beautiful experiences.
Dec. Luciferibus (shall smile somewhat warmly, but knowingly): Please, don’t thank me.
Enchanted Writer: Then, how is it that these people leave your grounds and still go on to lead depraved, unchanged lives? Is giving them these things proving to be all they really need for living?
Dec. Luciferibus shall smile somewhat nervously, but knowingly, and clean a bead of sweat.

Enchanted Writer: Sir, you have met with the Creator-God himself we have heard. Is this a false allegation?
Dec. Luciferibus (shall smile quite sweetly): I am afraid it is not false.
Enchanted Writer: Please, could you give me a photograph of you and the Creator-God for a keepsake? Permit me say “I am SUCH a fan!”
Dec. Luciferibus shall quickly manufacture a picture of him beside an old huge man with white heavy beard, both of them looking splendorous.
Enchanted Writer: Sir, like I said, I am such a fan. I have also a picture of myself and the Creator-God but it has nothing in common with this.
Dec. Luciferibus (shall then smile quite fearfully): Who are you?
Enchanted Writer: I am sure you know who I am, Sir, and are just teasing me. After all, you are notable for just knowing things, aren’t you?
Dec. Luciferibus shall then be visibly shaken as he pockets a damp handkerchief.

Enchanted Writer: Sir, we heard you grew up in a monastery, and having achieved the height of spiritual enlightenment, want to start a new religion enshrined in oneness.
Dec. Luciferibus shall smile artificially and eye the Writer maliciously, subtly, without saying a word.
Enchanted Writer: Sir, pardon my DIRECTNESS, but does this new religion point at all to the Jesus Christ, who died and lived again to save the lost and degenerate souls, as God?
At this stage, all the floodlights and spotlights and camera flashes shall blow out!
————————————————————————————————-
Epilogue
I, the Enchanted Seer, have written down the words of this prophecy in the Bible –Matthew 4:1-11. The choice of the people to, or not to, follow the Deceptor and the dire consequences (if they follow) are yet unknown, but I shall have died peacefully whilst eating monkeybrain sauce and my sagely bones laid to rest before then.

The Mad Village Poet 1 (original)

English: Homo neanderthalensis. Skull discover...

English: Homo neanderthalensis. Skull discovered in 1908 at La Chapelle-aux-Saints (France). (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

These are a collection of poems I wrote whilst working in a village/countryside setting. Please, refer to my post @ https://ifeelshadows.wordpress.com/2012/07/16/my-idyllic-village-experience/

How fast time runs!
Can it overtake life?
Are they even in a competition?
The rain falls on the sun.
The rivers run fast and dry.
The seas overflow and cease.
Who can see the end of it all?
I am just a lonely man,
tired of keeping the company of a pen and a book.
Boring speechless brothers!
Who can tell a good story?
Maybe a good tale of boredom.
Whilst I shamelessly flaunt my hatred for writing poems.
And am I to regard myself as a thinker?
Are Homo Sapiens better than Neanderthals?
Are spirits better than mortals?
Does the cup of immortality come cheap?
Is boredom so costly?
Am I just another croaky bull-frog, or a quiet cute toad?
Tiredness comes easy; sleep comes hard.
And because of the delay, I have to waste precious ink,
And shed blue blood on white dress.
Many days of some man’s short life are crowded with boredom.
So, let me broadcast my boredom.
Or, is it that obvious?

Oh! And not a bored fellow who has enjoyed reading this piece to tell me that.