The World of Realms: A Narration
It came from a spiraling Black Hole in the middle of nothing. Slithering out, oozing in silver, gleaming against the vast space of black nothingness, It was an unidentified Being. It merely was. It merely existed; until out of sheer spontaneity, It shook vigorously and began to tear. Wriggling within itself, its dull gleam separated from its gray matter.
As the Being writhed and tore, It stretched and stretched and stretched, until the gleam that once glossed the gray broke free. It that was once one Being had thus split to become two: a wisp of sparkling gleam drifting in parallel with a blob of gray matter. The former became a world of spiritual beings, set adrift as an abstract entity; the latter became a physical world where matter had mass, density, and tangibility. There they existed, two Its wriggling in parallel amongst each other; and though the Being was now split in two, the separation was not perfect; tiny bits of gleam still clung to gray, and vice versa; and in this way, the two entities were separate, yet still connected through this imperfect split.
Pores of the spiritual It and the physical It then sprouted worlds with living inhabitants — organisms with their own potential for life, interacting with all that existed within their own realm. The spiritual realm beheld all that was intangible, that which included emotions and abstract concepts; the physical realm encompassed all that could be physically detected and measured; and thus, oozing and flowing about in parallel, gleam and gray became two separate realms, two separate worlds that existed amongst each other in harmony.
* * *
Close my eyes and breathe. Breathe. Through the nose, chest heaving up and down. Up and down. Up and down. My heart is pounding from the Rush. Thump-thump-thump-kathump.
The third time in two months. It just keeps feeling more and more euphoric every time.
* * *
Like playmates, gleam and gray collided as they writhed together in parallel, crossing paths, intersecting. At the points of intersection, the realms of spiritual and physical beings threatened to reunite. Seconds later, the entities uncrossed themselves and wriggled side-by-side again in empty space.
* * *
My nose isn't feeding my lungs enough oxygen. Wrench my mouth open, and gasp. And gasp. And gasp again.
God that was orgasmic.
"Are you okay, Sir? Sir? You alright?" A male voice is grumbling in my right ear. There's a beefy hand under my armpit.
My eyes wince open as feeling begins to trickle back into my legs. "Yeah," I wheeze, still gasping for breath. "Yeah, I'm okay..." I struggle to my feet, feeling pressure from the beefy hand under my arm helping me up, and manage to stay standing on my own. Good job. The first time this had happened, I had fallen over and almost crushed some kid who was nosy enough to dispel any sort of fear towards my jerky, seizure-like movements. I think I was about seven when that happened. The kid was only three. Four, maybe.
"Pardon?"
"Huh?" Is this guy asking me something?
"You said something, sir. The number three or four or... I dunno. Did you need anything?"
What a nice guy. I'm not being sarcastic either, I swear. Which is a change from my usual demeanor, really. That says something.
"Oh no, no. I'm fine." Guess I'm mumbling to myself again. I shake my head vigorously, an attempt to wake myself. "Look man, can I buy you a beer? I'd really like to buy you a beer."
I see the man frown, and immediately the frown becomes laughter. "Just for asking if you're okay? Is this some divine message for aspiring Good Samaritans?" The man laughs again and shakes his head. "No, I gotta get going. Thanks for the offer though. Take care of yourself."
I blink and, finally realizing how strange my offer must have sounded, feel awkward. What else is there to do but wave and watch the man clip clop away from me and down into the subway station?
I wonder if he's ever experienced this exhilarating Rush before, so many damn emotions all at once. It really is so orgasmic.
* * *
There's puke all over the floor and I can't believe this is happening wait a second what's going on here why is everyone staring at me I can't believe this is happening this anxious pit in my stomach isn't going away and the floor is spinning and people are milling around me and voices are echoing through through through and through my what huh what's happening I can't believe this is happening holy shit this is surreal what the fuck in the middle of nothing my briefcase that blond woman that short boy the L'Oreal commercial the sleek flip of hair and the puke is all yellow and voices voices voices shit there's nothing else but this disgusting pit in my stomach oh my God I'm gonna puke again don't let everyone see me puke why won't this go away my heart hammering my head spinning my fists are sweaty and OH MY GOD I'M GONNA FUCKING PUKE!
* * *
Looking around to observe as others struggled to their feet (and wondering a little about that man's Good Samaritan remark), Tony Anyone spied a women with short red hair sprawled on all fours across the concrete in the middle of Dundas Square. Her head doubled over, there was yellow vomit dripping from her chin, adding to the disgusting pool accumulating around her knees.
Her classy little navy business suit is so fucked.
Anyone wrinkled his nose as the red-head hurled out more chunks of unpleasantness. He could almost make out what she had eaten for lunch. Gross. Not many people had such a weak stomach, but when these rare gems were hit with the Rush, it was a hideous sight.
* * *
Newsflash: There is heavy traffic on the 404 as a result of an accident just north of Steeles that has been blocking two left lanes. A delivery truck carrying boxes of Q-tips was driving along the 404 when it suddenly veered out of its lane, brushing with two other vehicles to its left, and flipped over. The cause of this accident is not yet certain, although there is suspicion that the truck driver had fallen asleep at the wheel. He is being rushed to the hospital this very moment, in critical condition. Only minor injuries have been reported for the other two drivers and their passengers.
* * *
Out in the vast empty space, the spiritual and physical realm clashed once more. This time, tugging as they did, they only succeeded in becoming ensnared; and for those moments in time, bits of gleam and gray merged where they had become entangled, forming the essence of the original Being.
* * *
"I was lugging some groceries up to my apartment when it hit me.
"Where? Oh, in Parque de los Martires.
"No, it hasn't happened before. Not ever. You can imagine how frightened I was!
"They looked like they were made of mist, and they were sparkling a little. They looked like they were wearing glitter.
"Flying. I'd say it's as close to flying as I'll ever get.
"I think so, but I can’t be sure. There might have been other people too, but they were all in this weird silver form. Most of them I didn't recognize anyway. I saw a really big rat sort of floating along next to me, though. And some fish. Those were all silver. Oh, and there was my neighbour's three-year-old little boy, which was probably the oddest thing. He gave me a really weird look, but he actually didn't seem very scared; it was almost as though something like that has happened to him before.
"No, I didn't get a chance to yet. Maybe I'll talk to him later.
"Sure, I'll see if I can bring him. Of course! My pleasure. Good-bye."
Mary Somebody hung up the phone and shivered, rubbing her eyes in fatigue. All this constant and intensive attention was incredibly taxing. Her palms were sweaty from the anxious knot in her stomach. Should she even cooperate with these men in their lab coats and their spectacles and their clipboards, who went about scratching check-marks into those damn square boxes next to responses that they felt were appropriate in explaining what had happened to her? Hell, she wasn't even sure what it was herself. How could she (or anyone) ever explain something so abstract, so intangible, so… out of this world? So beyond the usual human experience?
Well anyway, she wasn't going to be a hypocrite and complain, seeing as she couldn't be bothered to come up with another way of investigating this weird phenomenon that they've deemed to be a genuine out-of-body experience. Besides, she was desperate to find out what exactly was wrong with her, if there was even anything wrong with her. She wanted to uncover the mystery of this seemingly supernatural occurrence just as much as the authorities did.
Somebody had considered Shionism, but had eventually shaken her head in disbelief. Accepting that her experience was divine intervention did not seem right to her. There was something very ungodly about that sparkly place, what with its close structural resemblance to Parque de los Martires. As much as Hawaii is like a Heaven on Earth, this explanation did not work for her, and so Somebody had agreed to help Professor Truthscalper with his research endeavors.
* * *
Professor Truthscalper,
After intensively following your research on the phenomenon of so-called “out-of-body” experiences, I am outraged to discover that your treatment towards your study subjects is unacceptably unethical. Your methods have succeeded in nothing but leaving your participants physiologically damaged.
The first phase of your methodology consists of questionnaires and surveys inquiring about their "out-of-body" experience (or so you claim it to be as such), which is agreeable enough. Running physiological tests is another acceptable approach that you adopt, one that looks to any biological factors that may have caused such an experience. Further along in your research, however, after being unable to uncover any social or biological correlations for these supernatural occurrences, you then resort to the most unnecessary means: feeding your patients drugs of all kinds — when they are unaware of it — to induce physiological responses that may be strong enough to produce another "out-of-body" episode. Horrifically, your research participants leave your experiments physically scarred with absolutely no compensation! This conduct is unethical and clearly does not follow the guidelines of the Code of Ethics in Research, nor does it speak well of your character; it shows a lack of respect, coupled with blind ambition. As a renowned researcher, this point should be entirely intuitive to you: you never give your study participants any sort of substance without their consent! It is an outrageous and unacceptable methodology!
In all my years as an undergraduate and graduate student, I have never encountered such inconsiderate and unethical conduct from such a prestigious professor and researcher. You are taking advantage of your subjects, taking advantage of their fear and uncertainty. How dare you? They are afraid of what has become of them, afraid that there may be something wrong with them, and you put their health in danger! How dare you take advantage of their desperation to discover the cause of their seemingly supernatural experience? Feeding them substances to intoxicate them without their knowledge is not only dangerous, but also plainly unethical. What in the world are you thinking?
I had once admired your work, Professor Truthscalper. Now, however, I am sickened to even glance upon your academic papers. You ought to be ashamed.
Sincerely outraged,
Anne Student
As the Being writhed and tore, It stretched and stretched and stretched, until the gleam that once glossed the gray broke free. It that was once one Being had thus split to become two: a wisp of sparkling gleam drifting in parallel with a blob of gray matter. The former became a world of spiritual beings, set adrift as an abstract entity; the latter became a physical world where matter had mass, density, and tangibility. There they existed, two Its wriggling in parallel amongst each other; and though the Being was now split in two, the separation was not perfect; tiny bits of gleam still clung to gray, and vice versa; and in this way, the two entities were separate, yet still connected through this imperfect split.
Pores of the spiritual It and the physical It then sprouted worlds with living inhabitants — organisms with their own potential for life, interacting with all that existed within their own realm. The spiritual realm beheld all that was intangible, that which included emotions and abstract concepts; the physical realm encompassed all that could be physically detected and measured; and thus, oozing and flowing about in parallel, gleam and gray became two separate realms, two separate worlds that existed amongst each other in harmony.
* * *
Close my eyes and breathe. Breathe. Through the nose, chest heaving up and down. Up and down. Up and down. My heart is pounding from the Rush. Thump-thump-thump-kathump.
The third time in two months. It just keeps feeling more and more euphoric every time.
* * *
Like playmates, gleam and gray collided as they writhed together in parallel, crossing paths, intersecting. At the points of intersection, the realms of spiritual and physical beings threatened to reunite. Seconds later, the entities uncrossed themselves and wriggled side-by-side again in empty space.
* * *
My nose isn't feeding my lungs enough oxygen. Wrench my mouth open, and gasp. And gasp. And gasp again.
God that was orgasmic.
"Are you okay, Sir? Sir? You alright?" A male voice is grumbling in my right ear. There's a beefy hand under my armpit.
My eyes wince open as feeling begins to trickle back into my legs. "Yeah," I wheeze, still gasping for breath. "Yeah, I'm okay..." I struggle to my feet, feeling pressure from the beefy hand under my arm helping me up, and manage to stay standing on my own. Good job. The first time this had happened, I had fallen over and almost crushed some kid who was nosy enough to dispel any sort of fear towards my jerky, seizure-like movements. I think I was about seven when that happened. The kid was only three. Four, maybe.
"Pardon?"
"Huh?" Is this guy asking me something?
"You said something, sir. The number three or four or... I dunno. Did you need anything?"
What a nice guy. I'm not being sarcastic either, I swear. Which is a change from my usual demeanor, really. That says something.
"Oh no, no. I'm fine." Guess I'm mumbling to myself again. I shake my head vigorously, an attempt to wake myself. "Look man, can I buy you a beer? I'd really like to buy you a beer."
I see the man frown, and immediately the frown becomes laughter. "Just for asking if you're okay? Is this some divine message for aspiring Good Samaritans?" The man laughs again and shakes his head. "No, I gotta get going. Thanks for the offer though. Take care of yourself."
I blink and, finally realizing how strange my offer must have sounded, feel awkward. What else is there to do but wave and watch the man clip clop away from me and down into the subway station?
I wonder if he's ever experienced this exhilarating Rush before, so many damn emotions all at once. It really is so orgasmic.
* * *
There's puke all over the floor and I can't believe this is happening wait a second what's going on here why is everyone staring at me I can't believe this is happening this anxious pit in my stomach isn't going away and the floor is spinning and people are milling around me and voices are echoing through through through and through my what huh what's happening I can't believe this is happening holy shit this is surreal what the fuck in the middle of nothing my briefcase that blond woman that short boy the L'Oreal commercial the sleek flip of hair and the puke is all yellow and voices voices voices shit there's nothing else but this disgusting pit in my stomach oh my God I'm gonna puke again don't let everyone see me puke why won't this go away my heart hammering my head spinning my fists are sweaty and OH MY GOD I'M GONNA FUCKING PUKE!
* * *
Looking around to observe as others struggled to their feet (and wondering a little about that man's Good Samaritan remark), Tony Anyone spied a women with short red hair sprawled on all fours across the concrete in the middle of Dundas Square. Her head doubled over, there was yellow vomit dripping from her chin, adding to the disgusting pool accumulating around her knees.
Her classy little navy business suit is so fucked.
Anyone wrinkled his nose as the red-head hurled out more chunks of unpleasantness. He could almost make out what she had eaten for lunch. Gross. Not many people had such a weak stomach, but when these rare gems were hit with the Rush, it was a hideous sight.
* * *
Newsflash: There is heavy traffic on the 404 as a result of an accident just north of Steeles that has been blocking two left lanes. A delivery truck carrying boxes of Q-tips was driving along the 404 when it suddenly veered out of its lane, brushing with two other vehicles to its left, and flipped over. The cause of this accident is not yet certain, although there is suspicion that the truck driver had fallen asleep at the wheel. He is being rushed to the hospital this very moment, in critical condition. Only minor injuries have been reported for the other two drivers and their passengers.
* * *
Out in the vast empty space, the spiritual and physical realm clashed once more. This time, tugging as they did, they only succeeded in becoming ensnared; and for those moments in time, bits of gleam and gray merged where they had become entangled, forming the essence of the original Being.
* * *
"I was lugging some groceries up to my apartment when it hit me.
"Where? Oh, in Parque de los Martires.
"No, it hasn't happened before. Not ever. You can imagine how frightened I was!
"They looked like they were made of mist, and they were sparkling a little. They looked like they were wearing glitter.
"Flying. I'd say it's as close to flying as I'll ever get.
"I think so, but I can’t be sure. There might have been other people too, but they were all in this weird silver form. Most of them I didn't recognize anyway. I saw a really big rat sort of floating along next to me, though. And some fish. Those were all silver. Oh, and there was my neighbour's three-year-old little boy, which was probably the oddest thing. He gave me a really weird look, but he actually didn't seem very scared; it was almost as though something like that has happened to him before.
"No, I didn't get a chance to yet. Maybe I'll talk to him later.
"Sure, I'll see if I can bring him. Of course! My pleasure. Good-bye."
Mary Somebody hung up the phone and shivered, rubbing her eyes in fatigue. All this constant and intensive attention was incredibly taxing. Her palms were sweaty from the anxious knot in her stomach. Should she even cooperate with these men in their lab coats and their spectacles and their clipboards, who went about scratching check-marks into those damn square boxes next to responses that they felt were appropriate in explaining what had happened to her? Hell, she wasn't even sure what it was herself. How could she (or anyone) ever explain something so abstract, so intangible, so… out of this world? So beyond the usual human experience?
Well anyway, she wasn't going to be a hypocrite and complain, seeing as she couldn't be bothered to come up with another way of investigating this weird phenomenon that they've deemed to be a genuine out-of-body experience. Besides, she was desperate to find out what exactly was wrong with her, if there was even anything wrong with her. She wanted to uncover the mystery of this seemingly supernatural occurrence just as much as the authorities did.
Somebody had considered Shionism, but had eventually shaken her head in disbelief. Accepting that her experience was divine intervention did not seem right to her. There was something very ungodly about that sparkly place, what with its close structural resemblance to Parque de los Martires. As much as Hawaii is like a Heaven on Earth, this explanation did not work for her, and so Somebody had agreed to help Professor Truthscalper with his research endeavors.
* * *
Professor Truthscalper,
After intensively following your research on the phenomenon of so-called “out-of-body” experiences, I am outraged to discover that your treatment towards your study subjects is unacceptably unethical. Your methods have succeeded in nothing but leaving your participants physiologically damaged.
The first phase of your methodology consists of questionnaires and surveys inquiring about their "out-of-body" experience (or so you claim it to be as such), which is agreeable enough. Running physiological tests is another acceptable approach that you adopt, one that looks to any biological factors that may have caused such an experience. Further along in your research, however, after being unable to uncover any social or biological correlations for these supernatural occurrences, you then resort to the most unnecessary means: feeding your patients drugs of all kinds — when they are unaware of it — to induce physiological responses that may be strong enough to produce another "out-of-body" episode. Horrifically, your research participants leave your experiments physically scarred with absolutely no compensation! This conduct is unethical and clearly does not follow the guidelines of the Code of Ethics in Research, nor does it speak well of your character; it shows a lack of respect, coupled with blind ambition. As a renowned researcher, this point should be entirely intuitive to you: you never give your study participants any sort of substance without their consent! It is an outrageous and unacceptable methodology!
In all my years as an undergraduate and graduate student, I have never encountered such inconsiderate and unethical conduct from such a prestigious professor and researcher. You are taking advantage of your subjects, taking advantage of their fear and uncertainty. How dare you? They are afraid of what has become of them, afraid that there may be something wrong with them, and you put their health in danger! How dare you take advantage of their desperation to discover the cause of their seemingly supernatural experience? Feeding them substances to intoxicate them without their knowledge is not only dangerous, but also plainly unethical. What in the world are you thinking?
I had once admired your work, Professor Truthscalper. Now, however, I am sickened to even glance upon your academic papers. You ought to be ashamed.
Sincerely outraged,
Anne Student
posted by MsKarenAu at 2:32 PM
1 Comments:
thats really interesting Kay, very well written.
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