Most recent post

Vision 2 - The Unbearable Truth

-
Image
  The Situation - Red Alert JB , a middle-aged mail spaceship pilot. Starship piloting JB is held not by ropes, but by the cryo-unit's nanoweave swaddle—a tight, absolute embrace mimicking paranoiac wrappings. This material presses against him, preventing his shivering flesh from flying apart under the centrifugal force of his panic. He feels a cold burn and constant helplessness sinking in. His anxiety is a crimson klaxon, a "relentless tempest" of warring thoughts. He is mentally back in the cockpit, but the instruments scream in an alien language; every light and warning signifies impending failure. His pure instinct screams ABORT , yet there is no escape route. Confrontation Rising JB is shown the war of impulses tearing him apart—the "lunge and the retreat". His existence is reduced to the strained gasp: "I live for fucks sake, I don't know.” Full Assault a Violet Firestorm JB responds with explosive, automatic violence, his lungs burning from the...
Post a Comment

Godin Equilibrium

-



I woke up this morning and I felt a pain in my brain.
It was like all had changed and all will continue to change.
Nothing was left as the same.
And in this remorse I was the only one who  knew.
I just can't  believe it,   no-one would believe  in what I had to say.
So I yelled hard and long about all the injustices that has occurred.
I stomped my feet hard to the ground.
I punched through  the air to sporn my stance of knowing .
I spat deceit at society.
But no one knew for me and no-one wanted the goodness within my heart.
I became increasing alone.

In this life I can grasp the future.
I see visions of what's it's to be.
Messages  decrypt and whisper their intent to me.
I cannot find my way to you.
The more I warn the more you ignore me.
The greater the detail the less you want to know.
I began to hate you.

Where can I cry with my love watching over me?
When can I celebrate  when everything I state eventually unravels into loneliness?
The ground is trembling.
I feel it in my feet.
It disturbs  my standing.
I have lost my equilibrium.
But I cannot  reach out for help.
I will not reach out for help.
I pity your own mistaken and intended faults.
Strike me down whilst it's what you want to do.
I want you to stike me down.
I want to feel our pain.



Popular posts from this blog

The Puppet Master

-
Image
  Puppet Master The narrow, high-walled passage swallowed the sound of my boot scraping a broken cobblestone, the echo sharp in the dry air. Above, a sliver of unforgiving sunlight cut down, carving deep shadows where the damp, mossy scent of the gully was now replaced by the smell of dust and ancient stone. I paused, looking not just at my gloved hand—the leather scuffed from my descent, but at what was attached to it. Thin, nearly invisible lines, like high-tensile wires , stretched from the articulated cuff on my wrist and disappeared into the air above the path. I tracked them with my eyes until they converged on a small, stone figure standing motionless in the centre of the walkway. It was a crude marionette , barely a foot tall, carved from the same pale, cracked stone as the surrounding walls. Dressed in a simple tunic, its blank, oval face held a radiating sense of expectant waiting. Its arms were held out, palms up. I held the strings. Yet, the feeling was not one of cont...
Read more

The Kepler Kiss

-
Image
  The Kepler Kiss A Cosmic Coffee Experience Imagine stepping into a bustling café aboard a deep-space station, where the air hums with the gentle vibrations of starships docking and departing. As you make your way to the counter, your senses are immediately captivated by the aroma of a futuristic beverage—the Keplar Kiss .  The Visual Delight Served in a matte-black ceramic mug , the Kepler Kiss is a sight to behold. Its rim glows with a turquoise light, casting an ethereal glow that accentuates the coffee's deep, cosmic allure. The drink itself is a masterpiece, with its surface shimmering like a miniature nebula . Swirls of indigo and violet dance gracefully, interspersed with flecks that resemble distant stars. As you gaze into this cosmic concoction, wisps of steam rise elegantly, forming spiral patterns that subtly mimic constellations. An Atmosphere of Retro-Industrial Sci-Fi The café is a harmonious blend of retro-industrial textures and high-tech sci-fi ambience. The...
Read more

Godliness in Stone

-
Image
  Scene 1 It smells like… time down here. Not just damp earth or rot, but something older. A primal scent that’s been waiting in the dark for a millennium. I’m recording this at the bottom of the scar somewhere in the anomaly. In my mind, it's called the Necropolis Gully . My helmet is trying to map it—casting these sterile, digital grids over the moss and the stone—but the data doesn’t make sense. It’s glitching. It’s shuddering against the reality of this place. I don't know why I'm here, looking at ruins. Just... debris. But in the ruins, I found the ghosts of a future that never happened. I was walking over shards of polymerised memories . This was once a city.  It was meant to be the heart of a new world that... simply stopped. It wasn't an engineering failure. It was a failure of existence. Holding that slate, I felt this... weight. The grief of the architect. The "wounds of unbuilt dreams." I realised then that this isn't a graveyard for people. It’...
Read more