When I Die

Sentience

The woods are lovely, dark and deep
But I've got miles to go before I sleep
And in these woods shall I keep
The promised sentience buried deep...
(counting fluffy electric sheep...)

         This entry's going to be full of jumbled up images, I think; coherence goes right out of the window. I mean, right out. I'm freewheeling here, dripping out drops of my imagination that I dare not otherwise. If you find it a bit too much, here's the disclaimer: GET OUT IF YOU WANT. THE CHOICE IS YOURS.


         Man is a singularity. Man defies every implicit and logical law that the universe abides by. Man is a disorderly parasite in a dimension that swears by order and geometric symmetry. Man is a sublime mistake. God's own Vietnam. Praise Lord!


         I am a leech. I suck people off, suck at their brains till their drained and miamed. I suck people's trust. I suck off their emotions.
         I am a taychon. I live off yesterday. Yesterday is now and today is both a million years away and a million years ago.
         I am a predator. I kill hope. I kill it every time I wake up.
         I am the prey. I am the prey of every waking ghost who defies belief.
         I am unsane. I live twenty miles north of saneness and twenty miles south of insaneness. The world for me is a perfectly normal place; and yet, the blacker black in a shadow crawls out and comes hunting out for me every time I look at it.
         I am immortal. In my yesterday, I shall live forever
         I am a telepath. I convey everything that is on my mind to others without saying a word: sickness, unsaneness, ugliness.
         I am a saint. I worship silence.
         I am the night. I creep slowly and engulf you when there is no light.
         I am a vampire. I lust forever for the waters of life.
         I stand alone. Like a crumbling mountain.
         I am the face. The face of strangled beauty.
         I am the eggman. I spread my seed of sadness everywhere I go.
         I am mine.
         I am the game. The game of the firedancer, with the stomach to battle in the belly of the beast.
         I am the battlefield. My breast is impregnated with blood and knives.
         I am God. A being who failed.
         I am an angel, fallen, rusting and melting.
         I am Legend. For there shall never be anyone else like me.
         I am a mirage. I am a shadow. I am sentient. I am sentience.

         Life goes on and on and things change sometimes and sometimes they don't. Sometimes the changes are nice and sometimes they hurt. So I wake up expecting to spend that day without wincing and worrying and I end up going to the same bed with exactly the same worries as the night before.
         Worries that thump at the base of my spine everyday with the same perfunctionary randomness.

         I try and I try
         And I seldom do cry
         But the same old friend
         Called life sucks me dry.

         I wandered upon a cloud one day, and on my side was a rabbit. It nibbled on a carrot and when I walked, it rolled the carrot along and lingered on with me. I entered a house upon that cloud. It belonged to a deer. I had a cup of tea, and the rabbit had another carrot.
         The carrot killed the rabbit; it was poisoned. The deer said the rabbit was supposed to die; it was all arranged. When I came out of the house and resumed walking, the deer walked with me.
         The cloud went on and on and so did I. I talked with the deer about daffodils. Then when I looked at it again, the deer was a snake. It slithered on my arm and twisted around my neck.
         "A long way to go," it said.
         "Yes," I said. We trudged on. The cloud rose up into a mountain. I climbed it. When I reached the top, I gazed all around me. The cloud stretched into infinity everywhere.
         Then the rabbit was at my side again. "Hello," it said.
         Standing on the mountain, I said, "Hi."
         "My name's Forrest, Forrest Gu-ump."
         "I am Fox Mulder," I said, for that day I was him.
         "Do you want a carrot? My momma used to say that life is like a box of carrots; you never know who's gonna steal it."
         I took the carrot. Only it wasn't a carrot. It was the barrel of a shotgun. It was aimed at me.
         "My momma also told me not to talk to strangers." It pulled the trigger.
         When I closed my eyes, there was no pain; only a voice. The rabbit now spoke in granny's voice. "Die. Just die."
         I always obeyed grandma.

         This time I was a girl. This time I was being raped. This time I was crying. This time it was like being thrust in and out of a well full of burning oil. Then he left me to die. But I didn't. The pain didn't allow me to.
         I woke up in my home. He was standing at my side. "Daddy'll be good to you because you was good to him," he said.
         Then he hugged me.

         I fall in the baseball field. Ron tries to kick me in the stomach and kicks in the groin instead. I clutch both hands between my legs and half my mind catches the NONONO I'm screaming out.
         "Nobody asked you to mess around with us, jerkface," Ron says.
         Fanney shoves me up by the collar and slaps my face. "Don't ever come here again, hear me? Don't ever come here again."
         Jay's punch stings through my back like a spear. And that's when I think that if I ever live through this I will kill them. I will kill them all.

         I will not get any blood tonight. I have no feet to go search for it. Anne said she would help me out, but she's gone away. Her hunger comes first for her, after all.
         For a while Anne and I were like husband and wife. Of course, there were things we couldn't do, things that a man and his wife do when they're... not like us. When they drink water and not blood; when they're free to bask in the sunshine.
         Then Anne found someone else. But if she comes back tonight, I'll make sure she gives me some of what she fed on. Tonight I will feed on her... I'll worry about tomorrow tomorrow.

         Time is my ally. It lets me walk on it. Time provides me with the answers and lets me create questions. What came before the chicken? The egg? How can you be sure? I know for a fact that it was not an egg, but a tomato.
         I changed things so that Hitler became an enemy rather than a saint. Osama was a preacher before I changed him.
         The Hiroshima bombing never did actually happen because some numbskull american gave the order. He did not give the order. I took his place and I did.
         And if you believe that your life is fine right now, buddy, I can go back and change things so that it becomes a living hell for you.
         How long do you think Bush will live? I know. I've seen it. I can change it of course.
         Arnie could be President. Caprice Bourette could be your wife if you want. Hell, Brad Pitt could be your boyfriend and would never have met old Jennie. I could go back and change your genes and make you pretty. I could make you Cindy Crawford. I could make you a singer. I could make you Johnny Depp.
         I could make you rich. All it takes is a lottery number, you know. I could make you poor. I could make your wife die tonight. I could cure her AIDS if you want.
         I can bring you proof of alien life. They do invade us sometime soon, you know; although my definition of soon is a bit different.
         I can do it all, friend. It all depends one one thing: you have to give me something I can't get anywhere else.
         I have money, I can have anything I want; anything I want. All you have to give me is something I won't find anywhere else. What do you have that no one else does?
         Can you give me your life? Can you? Can you trade your dreams and nightmares with mine? Can you give me your memories and live with mine? Can you give me my life back? Because I don't remember mine. I forgot it a long time ago. I died a long time ago.
         Time is my ally. Time is my friend. And friends stab you in your back.

         This time he was born a cripple. This time he never played football and soccer and baseball. This time he never kissed a girl. This time he made a pact with Satan. He wished for legs; he said that he'd do anything for legs. If Satan gave him legs, he'd owe Satan one.
         When he got his legs, he walked on the street and was run over by a truck. He'd paid his dues. He was born a cripple, he died complete.

         I am an alligator. I live in a swamp. I eat flesh. Here comes a man. Careful now, these things are alert. Oh, don't jump. Ah. There. Die, irritant.
         These humans are tasty.

         I was a fish. Swimming in the waters of the ocean was heaven. Then a man came and swooped me in a net and put me in a tank where kids came and ogled over me and fed me those horrible bread crumbs and I choked on one of them and died.
         I was a fish and I died a fish and there's nothing strange in that. I wonder why.

         He sits in the bar with the gait of a fat man. He is a fat man. He eats burgers and drinks milk and grows fat with the alarming redux of an earthworm thrown in an anthill.
         He meets an angel. One real hot piece of action. She's slim and curves out in all the right places. He wants to say one of those pick-up lines from 'how to get any girl you want' and doesn't say anything. She looks at him with one of her dark blue eyes. That's what's wrong with her; the other eye's gone on a holiday. She winks that eye.
         She talks to him and fifty minutes later they're at his house and he's getting ready. When he slids off his clothes she looks at his fat body and licks her lips. Then she comes closer and her lips are at his neck and he thinks she's goinna kiss him when her hand slides neatly and sharply into his stomach and all his blood spills out. Outside a dark thing flutters in the window. "Here's our dinner," she says to the thing outside.
         The thing comes in.
         He dies watching them feed on his fat.

         "Everything's eventual," the Oracle said. He didn't believe her, but he had to. The Oracle was never wrong; a bit irrational at times, but never wrong.
         He walked away from the bench where she sat feeding ravens and climbed into the helicopter. He could fly in this world, but he'd rather use a machine.
         And this thought scared him to death. The machines still held the same lazy comfort for him as they did before he walked down the rabbit-hole.
         Inside, Trinity said that Morpheus was waiting back in the ship. He looked at her and kissed her and then the chopper blew up to bits. He lived; they had to patch his face up and give him a mechanical eye.
         And a mechanical peewee.
         When he entered the matrix the next time, he saw through his mechanical eye the things the matrix wanted him to see and pissed in the matrix's garden with his mechanical peewee and decided that it still didn't make any difference. It felt just the same. Then he knew why: his heart was mechanical. And it wasn't ruined in the blast. He was born with a mechanical heart. He was a machine. If only Morpheus really knew the truth...

         Jake is a slob. He jerks off in the basement of his shitty little apartment everyday; and dreams of being rich. One day, he wakes up being Richie Rich and flies away on a plane. The plane never lands, because the plane crashes down. Riche Rich is still alive; but he can never use his wealth because he is in a coma; he will die in a coma thirty years later.

         I was a little girl in a playground. I was playing with my little princess dolly Polly. A boogeyman came up behind me and ate me. I am him now, that's the nice part. And now I play with a bigger dolly who looks very much like my mom. The only thing is that now this dolly always looks terrified instead of Polly's smiles. I hate this dolly and will kill her soon.

         I am a drop of blood; not just any drop of blood, a blood-drop full of AIDS. I am entering someone's heart now; in a moment my virii will divide and multiply. We will kill this man soon. It's what God sent us to do.

         I never thought that this moment could ever happen in my random existence. Josie's hands were on my chest and my hands were on her legs sitting down on the bench in the park. Her face was sublimely beautiful when she kissed me.
         She caressed my hair and I held her hand. We kissed for a long time, just about forever. Then she said, "I love you."
         "I love you too," I said, and kissed her again.
         When we got up from the bench and walked out of the park, her head was on my shoulder and I held her as close to me as I could.
         In that moment I knew what true love really was. My lips were turning blue like her, she said. Poison did that to you; and the poison told me that love was seperation.

         I will be myself again, soon. I will roar through the wind like a F-14; the skies will be my playground and the sun will be my beacon. I will be what I was back on my homeworld, before they decided to bump me off in this stupid blue green planet going round and round this stupid golden light.
         I will look down on the world below me and feel proud and happy for being up there in the air and being above every one else.
         But for now I'm only a microbe; I've got millions of years to grow before I can fly.
         But I will; someday or the other, I will.
         I wonder what I will do when I get there, though.

         He washed his hands clean. There was no point in going all dirty in the crowd, after all. Hands were how they judged you down here; clean hands got you in, dirty ones kicked you off.
         There were a million things that could go wrong once you were undead, but the worst was getting infected.

         I am a hunter. I hunt in the night when the moon shines bright and everyone looks at me and frights and I've got every right to stalk them.
         I'm a good guy, basically, but sometimes things go wrong and I turn into a wolf. Then I kill people, yum yum. I am a werewolf.
         They don't like me, which is strange because they are a bunch of people who like ass-clowns like Jay Leno and Marshall Mathers.
         When Eminem says "I'm gonna F your life", they smile. When I F their life, they cry. Strange people, indeed.

It was a cat. It had no name.
It worried a lot, but in the end it was the same.
It had a son, its name was It too.
And It and It had a lot of fun before they came out and bit you.
You killed It 1. Then It 2 was outraged.
It 2 bit you did too get to the point of this snafu.
It 2 died from your gun. You had a lot of fun.
And since you liked killing cats so much you killed one million.
Then you killed dogs. Then you killed men.
And in the end they wondered how to put Dumpty back again.
You died in a funeral pyre; they burned you till you screamed.
It's really no big wonder that you never woke up from the dream.
You came from your grave and killed. And killed everyone, you did.
But you messed up buddy, because there's so many people in this world
That you got bored and died.

         I am a force of nature. I fart like the wind.

         I slipped because I had no boots. The snow was fluffy but when I fell it hurt. There were no trees around me but there were twigs and dead squirrels. One of them woke up from the dead and said, "They came from within."
         Then I saw the lights in the woods and Mr Alien came out and said, "we come in peace for all mankind." Then it said, "Let's go."
         I did go and let me tell you one thing: Never trust an Alien.

         He was a telephone. He ringed and ringed till the owner got sick and threw him out in the garbage bin. There, he had a case of bad connection and talked with Mr In-charge-of-hell.
         Now he's a messenger from Hell; and if your telephone rings thrice before it stops, you know you've got him in your house.

         I am Mr Alien. Steven Spielberg is a first class jerk. I do not come to enlighten you shitheads with my advanced technology. I come to burn the goddamn place down so I could bring others over here and build something a little less beautiful.

         Leon sat in the classroom learning Algebra. X was an A-hole. Y was a big, brown A-hole. How else could you explain why the algebra (in general) and the two variables (in particular) were so full of crap?
         They even indulged in addition and multiplication; bloody gay fags that they were.
         And Leon was sure that Miss Stransky was in love with both X and Y. He said to Curtis, "I bet there's some real hot threesome Candid camera dings going on at Stransky's house, eh?"
         Then an X from his text book said, "Hello."
         Leon looked at it and wrinkled his snotnose. "Hi?"
         "We have no sex. We're sexless, Y and I. Geddit?"
         "Yeah."
         "And we've got something for you," X said.
         Then X pulled Leon inside.
         Two years later, Joe was studying Algebra in Stransky's classroom. He hated them variables. One was bad. Two variables were worse. But this sum had three variables. The sum he was trying to solve was this:

X+(Y*Y)-(34*LEON)=X-LEON

         Elvis has not left the building; he's in the potty. He's still eating his burger, although now the burger is, quite literally, full of shit.

         He played with the Praying Mantis everyday till the Mantis died. Then he found a horse to play with. The horse killed him. He always wondered who the horse played with now.

         I am my own. I am my own life. I am my own death. I am my own hand. I am my own feet. I am my own lungs, heart, everything.
         I am you.

         Finding Austin was difficult. He was lost three days ago and never came back. He was walking in the woods and disappeared.
         And now Austin was nowhere in sight. Mason knew Austin was dead. Don't ask him how he knew Austin was dead, though. He won't tell you.
         Killers don't confess their crimes so easy, after all.

         Stephen King went to hell because he didn't know the difference between IT and Mr Gray. If he'd known the difference, he'd have gone to Disneyland.
*note: This is not a degrading remark about King. I like his work a lot, and consider his to be one of the scariest minds to be in. If you don't get the point in this line, skip it.

         Shaw was shallow. He was a bottomless pit. He sucked people in and never let them out. He knew how it was with him. Once a girl named Alice fell down into him moments after a rabbit had.
         She thought she went to Wonderland. Actually she went right in his stomach.

         I die today. I know it because he told me. I die today and go to heaven. It doesn't matter that my name is John Fitzgerald Kennedy; I die today. I die because someone told someone else to kill me. He will kill me and I can't do anything because they want me to die.

         Prince had a hard time being a dog. Bones were hard to come by; steak was unheard of. Then one day he became a man and found out that he still had a hard time. This time money was hard to come by; love was unheard of.
         Hindsight is a terrible thing, and it hurt his guts too bloody much when he realized he was better of being a dog anyway.

         I am an alligator. I already shat out the man I ate. A bird sits in my mouth now. It's pecking at my teeth. I could eat it right now, but what's the point? Ever wanted to eat an M&M after eating a chocolate cake?
         Here comes a scorpion. Danm thing stings like a scorpion--forgive my language. "Hey, Scorpion, baby; how'dyou do?"
         The scorpion says nothing but grows bigger and bigger and then stings me and the poison is me and spreading. I chew the bird.

         David Gilmour died because the world didn't deserve his music. Pink Floyd now plays live 24 hours a minute at the Restaurant At The End Of The Universe, where the Division Bell rings endlessly.

         I am LeoDi Caprio. I'm with Winslet on Titanic. We're doing our bird thing. Why're you watching us doing our bird thing from outside the movie screen? Come on in, I won't bite you.
         Good, good. Now come over here; look out, look at all those people watching you in awe! Isn't is marvellous, being on the silver screen? being a movie star? Yes, now sit down and watch us kiss live.
         Good. Now, remember how they say that anything can happen in movies? Well, come over here, stand at this edge, and do the flying thing like we did.
         Yes, now good. Slow, and take a deep breath. Good. Now I'm gonna push you in.
         Bye.

         My brain is an ashtray. Nobody smokes anymore, unfortunately.

         We could've been heroes, but I had to pee.

         Since life is short, Neam thought, why not just mess it all up?
         When he killed thirty men and was asked 'why'd you do it?" by the horsey looking press girl, he said, "Because God is mysterious."

         Marilyn Monroe was applying lipstick when Kurt Russel stomped in. "Hey, kid, get off my way," he said.
         "No way," she said.
         "Yes way. I'm a SOLDIER who has EXECUTIVE DECISION backing him to go in the STARGATE without so much as a BACKDRAFT."
         "No."
         "Well, then I'll call in somebody you know."
         Sly Stallone walked in. "They call us Tango and Cash," he said.
         Marilyn Monroe was shot in the head by one of them, the one who said "worse cop."

         How can I be strong? Don't you see without body I am nothing?

I am just a puny brain
Running on in an endless train
With a ticket to hell in a bloody drain
With everything to lose and nothing to gain

         This time he was a girl. A man was stroking her back. They were lazing around the swimming pool. The man wore a brief. She wore a swimsuit that showed more than it hid.
         Then another man came and lifted her off and they ran into a hotel room where they were locked in embrace.
         Then she realized she was in a Sidney Sheldon novel. And there was nothing scarier in the world than that.

         I am a dragonfly. I eat small bugs. I fly, but summtimes littleuns tie threads on my tail and hawl me along like a balloon.
         One day I saw a butterfly. It was damn beautiful. I went to it and asked if we could fly together. It said yes. We flew and flew and she landed in a spider's net. I didn't get stuck in there because I wasn't as big winged as she was.
         The spider ate her.
         I saw the butterfly again the next day. I flew again and the spider killed her again.
         The butterfly and I flew again the next day. This time I steered her clear of the spider's web. She didn't die. But a lizard ate me and I did.

         We are ants. We love food. We'll do anything to get it. We can bite and we pack a mean punch. But termites scare us 'coz they're like us.

         They were all soldiers of fortune. They all stole from me. But what they stole wasn't important to me a lot. I never wanted to be President Of The United States anyway.

         Life is a song. Unfortunately I don't know Russian.

         He woke up in the mirror and saw the crack in his head. He woke up in the mirror and saw the gash up his spine.
         Did the mirror lie? Obviously.

         I am a black-widow. I killed my husband. Do you know why I did it? I did it for the family.

         In the nineteenth century, Tiger the tiger was hungry. Deer the deer was also hungry and was feeding on Grass the grass. Tiger the tiger saw Deer the deer and came close and started to talk. They talked for some time and then Rain the rain fell down and Sun the sun went down and Deer the deer fell down and broke his crown and Tiger the tiger lived happily and well-fed ever after for about twenty-four hours.

         Granny said he was a bad boy. Granny said he was evil. Granny was always right. He was evil.
         He looked at Granny sleeping on the bed. He looked at the blood pouring out from her. He looked at the bloody knife in his hands.
         Yup, he was evil.


I think that's enough of a mindjob for the time being.
         Not exactly the kind of stuff you'd expect from a sweet old chimp like me, isn't it?
         I guess it's proof enough that I'm not sweet. I'm horrible. I'm demented.
         I'm everything that you ever read about every other psychopathic killer.
         It's okay with me.
         You might be wondering why in God's name did I ever write what I wrote in this entry. The answer is rage. Pure and simple rage.
         Earlier I used to swallow it down, now I know a way to release it: write it out.
         Try not to make any assumptions and connections here, please. I simply wrote down what flashed through me in the two hours I wrote this entry in. Like random snippets of a BEST FREAK SHOWS OF THE EIGHTIES kind of feature.

         Enough rambling. Onwards.
         The last few days went in a blur. They've been full of hectic activity. I won't talk about what I did, but it was boring, it was repetitive, and full of sticky pink goo (not in the literal sense).
         Talked to a few juniors, including Ash, yesterday. Gave them the one advice I think is the most important in a course like engineering: always carry a walkman.
         There's one junior from UK. And man am I glad meeting someone who's like me even in the least. I mean, after my brotherhood, this bloke's the first guy who's from outside.
         He spoke in that weird accent that is UK squared. Seems he plays a mean keyboard. Has got a Korg MS1. The weird thing is that I actually heard him play at his house that day, lives way too far off, and his playing is not bad. We've decided to have a freak show sometime soon.
         Ash and I talked about greatness. She thinks that what Ayn Rand said in Atlas Shrugged is right. She thinks that unless people really appreciate what you do, you shouldn't do it.
         I digress. I think that I've never, never, once in my life played an instrument or have sung for others. I sing for myself. I don't give a damn if others think my music sucks or if they think I sing like a donkey. I don't give a damn.
         She agreed reluctantly. She might've been a bit pissed off at my colorful profanities (appropriately laced with F words, most of them used in places where you find the word 'damn'). I don't really care if she thought I was wrong. I never have.
         A student commited suicide by jumping from the seventh floor of our college. Amazing. You know exactly what I was thinking when I heard the news.

         Sonya and I met up at the place where we all met when there were seven of us (and then there were six and then there were seven again and now there are only two)--the huge drum behind the school. Now the drum is gone, replaced by a multiplex (where they're showing Matrix: Revolutions now), but there's still a little patch of green back there where we meet.
         Sonya's thinking of going to the US to get a grip and get a degree. I told her to do what she thought was right. I think that's the best thing anyone can tell anyone.
         But if she goes, there will only be one left behind.
         Don't want to think about that now. Loneliness is a terrible thing. And it's best left outside the mindwarp.



         In other news, the chimp said today that it's been ONE YEAR AT WRITING.COM and he's had an absolute ball of a time here!
Man, I wanna stand up and bow before some people here:
SM first.
SMs second.
Pita. God. She's amazing, I guess every one knows that.
Kali. I think my saying your name says it all.
Amber. Princess.
Dyrad. I be a monkey, aye, I be.
ORACLE. You're one good lady, okay? One real good lady. And Mr. Moon IS A PRINCE! REALLY!
Talmerinder. Fellow gamer.
Bookwrite. I wouldn't have been here without this guy. So puh-leez put your hands together for the man!

There are a zillion more, but I guess you know who you are and I also want you to know that there's no reason why I didn't say your name here. I also want to tell you that I didn't forget you.


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