brains

dear child

"You."
He said to his child of two summers.

"You are not mine, even if you were part of me.
You are not a trophy, i can polish and show my pride through
You are not a puppet i control to do as I believe,
nor shall you be a puppet to others."

a tear flowed down his right cheek,

"I... I am but a teacher for your path.
I am but a receiver of the universe's creation.
I am but a lucky man to see such creation exist,
and grow."

his body felt warm and shaky

"You have no debt for me,
for I am blessed to have you,
You are the one that showed me the most valuable of experiences,
the highest of joys, watching a smile on a pure and beautiful soul.
I am forever in debt, and will always repay you."

the sun rays, through the patched window, shimmered his tears of happiness

"I am forever in debt, for you are my only claim to glory."

Why smile?

I little kid was sitting with his dad in a bus going towards the central part of the city. He was observing the people around him, and saw them in their own world, looking at their hands, looking at their iPods, looking at their books, and gazing into distances.
It was normal for the little kid to see that, but his mind still wondered why so.

The bus stopped to drop people and pick up new people going the same way. The little kid was staring at the people passing by, trying to find a different face, trying to meet another's eye.

A young man stopped at the front of the bus, standing, with his earphones in his ear, just like the others, the little kid thought. But the young man looked different to the usual people he sees, darker skin, hairy face and head, and he was nodding his head to his music, it seemed for the little kid.

The little kid was confused, and even more confused when the young man looked at the little kid and gave a great smile towards him. The little kid turned to his dad and asked "Why is that young man smiling?", the dad didn't understand, and looked towards the young man, who was still smiling, looking outside the bus' windows. "Because he is happy, aren't you happy?" the dad requested with a monotone voice.

The little kid stared at his dad's answer and questioned "I am not smiling, does that mean I am not happy?"

Made out of Two

A little boy once sat on his bed, wondering with curiosity and confusion why wouldn't people understand the religion he follows.

To him, it makes complete sense, to him, he wanted to experience the judgement days and fight the evils, side by side with the holy man. He knew the truth, and the only truth.

That little boy sat in front of screens for hours, getting excited from killing artificial monsters and internet invaders, watching a civilisation being built, dreaming of creating one of his own.

Nothing mattered to him and his friend, but to win this game, and reach a feared level.

Glory came from a button click, a shout comes, the screen shakes.

Lose is a misery, killing his puppet is worse than an uncle dying.

I came back to that little boy's room today, I saw in sadness how his life still exists.

Revived by his friends and family, they still call him to check if he's behaving or not.

I saw his friends fight for a game on a screen, I saw him and shivered, those feelings coming back, playful violence is just a theme.

He saw his family buy without asking, without knowing, doing thinking they are helping, shouting at workers, frustrated from ink on paper.

"Here, read this, you will get 1000 virtues, and this will give you 4000." I shook my head, and said "I prefer to sweat and learn, than receive worthless counted praises."

I saw then that my body was stuck between two cultures, two people. A little boy that needs his family to survive, and a person trying to create change in everything he does.

I am stuck between two cultures, two people, one i grew up with, and one I am coming back to.

Burning Village

I watched, through a moving picture, as a village came closer and closer to my view.

The village was engulfed with orange flames, and I can see it burn slowly from a distance. A sense of hope emerged undetected in me, a hope of escape. A hope of all that was haunting me from that village is gone now, all that weight that I couldn't bare nor face.

I instantly felt a sharp jab of guilt stab into my heart, even though the hope of escape was blissful, I still did love that village and it's people. I do appreciate the nurturing it gave me. I do thank for creating who I am.

But still, I felt I have moved on, forgetting all those deeds, hoping I could repay them through helping the rest of the world. The stab of guilt was not enough to break through my forgetting black heart.

This is my reality. I have left what created and evolved me, and I have had no choice but to do so. To follow my heart, is a hard task to do.

As I approached closer to the burning village, I realised it was indeed alight, but minus the burning. My hope was gone, and I knew I had to face it now.

Face it now, or never in this life.

Remembrance Of A Long Dead Art

the art of Random.

an art that is a life style.

a life style that is a life.

the art lost to the now constructed cities and societies, lost to the organized events and dinners. The art of Random is an art of no thought about "what to do next, in 3 hours, tomorrow, the week coming, and in a month". The art of carrying nothing but a train of thought that lights and darkens every moment, every second.

The art of Random was a sub-conscious creation, where a human that lived in a forest didn't have much to do but walk around, look around, climb trees, dig holes, and hunt food. A world where every moment is what we need to think about, no past, no future, but only survival and moment-self-entertainment.

Try this, walk in a street you never walked, and turn into another street you never walked, and by doing so for a while, you will run into unplanned events and un-manifested experiences.

Sit down near a person and smile, walk into a shop and say something that flashed in your mind, jump into a puddle of water/mud, eat an unknown leaf, high-five a branch, do a dance while walking for 5 seconds, pretend you are invisible, or even eat a 2 hour long breakfast.

You don't plan to be random, just do it when it pops in your head.

City Among Critters, Prologue

Living by yourself in the wild? I thought about it a lot, for a long time, but something stopped me. What’s the point? I asked myself, humanity will keep going down no matter what I do, there is no point getting “enlightened” when the rest of them, or the vast majority, are lying to themselves, saying “This city is great.”

But I figured out that they got no choice, they haven’t heard of any other city, they haven’t seen a city in a jungle or a city under the sea. They have only seen it in their imagination, dreams, and screens. The dream of living in a beautiful perfect city is just that, a dream.

I don’t blame them really, the same way I don’t blame people following a new religion, when they got nothing to live for, or something to live for that doesn’t really make sense, what else would they do but join the new religion when it gives them truth of what the fuck is this world is on about, even when it’s of myth and magic.

What are humans if they have got no story to follow?

A question that appeared in everything I read and heard, every time I see a person following something, to me, really dumb, I understand why they do it. The story.

The story that will not only give you purpose in life, not only give you an “ultimate truth”, not only give you a reason to be a good person, but also immortality. Don’t we all wish we were immortal? What is the point, you might ask yourself, of living, if the only life time you have is just a lousy, fast-paced, up-and-down 60 years. I am going to heaven, fuck yes, I love that idea, I don’t want to shut down, I don’t want to live again and again in the same ball of earth, i don’t want to float around as a ghost watching people for eternity, hell no.

And that’s why I got a story to write, not a religious one, nor a mystical one, nor a-way-to-live one. A story for the hell of having a story, a story that will take us in a journey, period. Doesn’t matter what the story is going to end up, if it will ever do, all we care of is the journey.

This story started with a blog called “City Among Critters”. The philosophy of this blog first started with the pure need of whining, whining about the city critters I lived among, critters I looked down upon for being the stupid living creatures they are. Stupid in the sense of having so much possibilities, but never exploring even 2% of them. It was a whine about the shit city system we live in, in the way we relay on food imported from a town I never heard of, or luxuries from a country I always hear of, yet not from an environment I live in.

Why waste energy, power, and time on something you won’t be able to depend on all the time? I asked an architect friend once, and heard no answer but the usual “That’s the way it is, and it works.”

So here is the unusual story, a story not of myself, but a story seen through me, a story for everyone to account about. Don’t take my advice, take my opinion.

Shapeshifters - A Theory of Supernatural Humans

Where people try to find magic and mythology, they forget they can find it here, right where they shit and speak, their self.
Where people want to disappear into the land of energy and power, they can't see that it is here, right where they sit and walk, the universe.

Today, I claim there is such thing as Shapeshifters, maybe more accurately be called Personality shifters, but for mythological sake, and avoiding the use of bad sounding names, we shall call them Shapeshifters.

Who are the Shapeshifters, and what can they do?
Shapeshifters refers, in the mythological world, to a person that can shift his/her shape into another's, sometimes into an animal, or an elemental form.
Basically, someone that can change their form to whatever desired, or however their ability limits to.

In the "real-world", Shapeshifters are persons that are able to change their personality representation, without putting on a fake mask, to better suite the person they are communicating to. Simply put, they can make everyone comfortable with them if their ability extends to maximum human capabilities.

Of course they are constrained by only the people they meet around them, Shapeshifters take certain attributes of those people and transfer them into their's, secretly. By doing so, the other person can almost see a mirror of himself, or a mirror of what would be comfortable for him/her, and feel safe and secure around Shapeshifters.

Please do not confuse Shapeshifters with ass-kissers, for they still reflect themselves, but because they are a flexible being, and their self is a secret and complicated thing, they have no cares of changing small things in them to better illustrate and communicate their ideas and talks with others.

Sounds scary? Such power can create a dangerous being. But you must release for such being to become a Shapeshifter, he/she needs to be on a high level of awareness and consciousness, therefore they won't easily use such powers to gain superficial needs.

The most frustrating of all, you're almost unable to learn their true self. And with Shapeshifters themselves, sometimes they lose the understanding of their true self.

It is a power with a double-edge.

Zombies of Amber Forest

The zombies wore white gloves, looking indifferent to humans.

They walk again out of the forests, just like their God walked a 1,000 years ago.

Today, on the human Day of Death, a celebration and remembrance of the fallen knights of Vatricka, the zombies have come after many centuries of observation of the human race.

Today, the celebration shall become a day of moaning and sadness, they, the damned and wicked have become the wise and the swift, they, the zombies are no more the mindless corpses their ancestors have been, they have learnt to replace their corrupt conciseness into a clear mind.

Kadli, the elder of the zombies, still remembers the story his master told. The story of how Tashig, The Saviour, have replaced his corrupted brain with a human's one. The Wise Tashig was lucky to find a Zombie Scientist brain to replace his own. He has chosen a number of fellow strong built male zombies and attractive swift female zombies, and, by killing a number of intelligent humans, replaced brains of brothers and sisters with theirs.

The Saviour has taken the 20 re-birthed zombies and the rest of his race into Amber Forest. The foolish humans, happy to have survived the zombies' plague, never touching the leaves of Amber Forest, were ignorant to the powerful enemy growing behind the forbidden trees.

Tashig with his 20 followers have sacrificed the rest of their race, unable to control or save them. They have first used them to scare and kill any curious humans, and when the human leaders marked Amber Forest a forbidden land, they have used their fellow corrupt brothers and sisters to repair their ruined faces and to fill their empty stomaches.

The zombie race was never one to carry emotions, their curse was more a blessing, for they had the guts to eat their fellow brothers and sisters for the greater good of their race. And that made Tashig a God to the newly born race of zombies.

Now it was time for Kadli to fulfill his God's prophecy, with Tashig's shadow over his shoulder, he shall revenge the zombie race for their years of suffering by the human monsters.

Today, the sky is black.