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WeoM

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August 12th 2017  |  0  |  Category: Other  |  Author: honey bee  |  113 views

                                                           ”WeoM”

The world, wait no “my” world would be a correct term, turned upside down, downside up, sides up down, like a sunny side up fried egg on a quiet Sunday morning back in “my” home town in Nagoya. It is unrelenting, merciless, and similar to that of the quiet before the storm hits. Let’s start with the mundane self-introduction in every sell out novel shall we? Today, I’m officially a home wrecker of three. I am human, but I am not. I am the opposite of what happiness stands for. I am everything, but at the same time, I’m nothing. My name is Kuro Chan, and a firm believer in the God of little things-which is why I cannot tell you my real name because to give up my name is the same as giving up self control and that’s from what my oji- chan had warned me about-it is perhaps also necessary to mention my age at that time for the purpose of this story; I was 19 when all of it happened to me. I make it sound like none of it was my fault, maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t, it could be me, or it couldn’t be me. Enough of this madness, let me continue “my” story while “my” mind is still sane. Ji- chan always said before he disappeared into himself on that one autumn morning, that everyone in this world was born a blank slate, it is up to the person and only that person to decide what they’d like to fill it in with. He kept a large collection in the library in the old tatami style house, always referring to all the philosophers in the time before us like John Locke. I grew up with Tabula Rasa as my mantra, dine with Aristotle in every meal, my ears are tuned to the music of Hume’s Bundle theory of self. My oka- san, and otou san who were both a devout in christianity, always chastised me that I should never listen to whatever ji- chan had said because it is pure botoku/blasphemy. Growing up in the countryside where everything smells like salty air, and the ocean mixed together never did anything good to my complexion. Sun spots formed on the tip of my nose, across the apple of my feline cheeks, and trailed down along the nape of my elongated neck. Which luckily, my silky black hair, is able to cover it wherever I go.

Lists of places I visit in a day

  1. The school

  2. Grocery shop

  3. The rooftop

  4. The library

There are only a few places that any living soul would see me in. My sole existence only inhabit those places. It is no surprise that a brooding quiet creature like me never really had any form of interactions with other beings except when I’m gathering information. Instead of listening to the boring humdrum of conversations that is not important to my survival; I make these lists. These imaginary lists are highly important in my daily routine because when I stop making them my mind floats to another dimension. It exists as my anchor to hold me inside of this empty husk of a being. When ji- chan lost himself, these episodes of detachment is now more frequent, so now my lists and my faith in the God of little things are what keeps me going with this facade of a perfect being.

Lists of why I make lists

  1. It is my anchor

  2. It keeps me, me

  3. Acts as a great time killer

If someone were to ask how it feels like to go through that, then there is no point in describing it if no one ever asks me how I feel. I do feel, but the way I feel is in a way as if my life is narrated in third character, and each sensation is separated by a barrier stopping me from feeling too much. Feelings, feelings, feelings, feelings that’s all everyone ever talked about. We forget to think when feelings are in the way of rationality. Survival and my last mission is what I believe in, in this jungle corporate world of man. To survive, also means to have a good network of information. I must be quicker than lightning, keep my wits about, for it is the only precious thing I have left.

List of what everyone talks about

  1. Feelings

  2. Feelings

  3. Feelings

  4. Feelings

Yet another thing I must point out, my eyes are a veteran soldier they witnessed much tragedy of the fallen ones in the past. I’ve seen one too many of my collar fewer peers disappeared day by day after I talked to them. Their hunger is insatiable, greed blinded their almond shaped eyes, until I lost track of time. I would meet them one day, share a drink, and then lose trace on their trail the next. Now, there is no concept of time, what I believe is today, somehow turned out to be yesterday. I refused to be like them, I will stand my ground when the time comes except if Death visits me when I completed my mission. I will not be rid off or taken away by the shadows who once resemble humans. Witnesses of these events whisper to me in trembling voices.

-They were grabbed by the neck! Witness A said

–And brutally thrown into a monster’s mouth with gnashing steel teeth! said Witness B

—Death for them is simply mercy if they even get to receive that honour said Witness G

For the first time in the many life I’d live before, I am afraid. The barrier separating me from these sensations, and these emotions are gone. I’m in a race against time, and time is in a race against no one. It waits for no one, it is entitled to only itself, reports to only itself, yet I wish I could’ve had had more of it. No matter how pointless I think my life is, I need to carry my tired limbs and bones a little further, push a little harder. The shinigami may not take me, for I  will refuse to return these lazy bones to Earth. There is a mission that must be completed, but it is not assigned by anyone yet it still must be done.  Bzzbzz went the blow flies showing sign of decay and a simple signal that my old dear friend Death had visited. I was too late once again, this is my 8th time I attempted to rewind back time to save the precious human woman ji-chan always wanted me to be. I was a replica, an empty shell of broken dreams, and wish of redemption. I am the “what ifs” that ji chan dreamt about every single night, after otou- san and oka-san decided it was too much trouble to keep a senile old man with a stray cat. Ji- chan was abandoned in a run down apartment paid for by his pension by the big people. I have witnessed him on his deathbed moaning in the regrets of yesterday. For the person he wanted to be there the most, never came back. Part of why Kuroko chan passed away was also me. She was a kindered woman with a pure spirit, she was the life of the room, and sure raise one heck of a storm that woman would be what ji chan said about her when he’s still conscious.

List of why it was my fault kuroko chan died

  1. I was a small little kitten about to face death, as cliche as it may sound, Kuroko chan saved my first life (for cats have nine lives).

  2. I

  3. Am

  4. Born

  5. For

  6. Destruction

  7. I

  8. Am

  9. The

  10. Reason

  11. For

  12. Unhappiness

  13. I am a homewrecker of three, and I will use all the lives left to return that back to them.

  14. I’m a murderer, and the young inside of her is lost.

  15. Ji chan couldn’t handle it

After that day, ji chan cried himself to sleep every night. He kept to himself, recoiled in himself, then one day he truly lost it. He would sometimes shout at me, blames me for I am why he lost the love of his life, but on some days he would pet me on the head whisper scratch my ear calling me “Kuro chan”. That nickname used to belong to the human woman who had lost her life. I am glad she died, for now, I’m embraced by the warmth of ji chan even as a replacement. There is a part of me that wishes she didn’t because I am not worth saving. If she didn’t die she would have been there for ji-chan. Ji-chan wouldn’t have resided within himself, becoming quieter, and starts talking about all the great mysteries of life. They were both into classical music, with vinyl scattered around the room. Now, all that is left is broken pieces of them when ji- chan went into fits of anger and sadness. He felt compelled to throw things around, break photo frames of the happiness he couldn’t return to. I like the nice ji chan who pets me and tell me stories of the world above and ahead. I particularly liked the story about the god of little things, who is not almighty, but gather power from the beliefs of the people. They would only appear when the believer is in dire need of a wish. They will only grant the one wish, but we must always be a ware of the loopholes.

List of how to call on the god of little things

  1. A sacrifice is a must

  2. Must be prepared to exchange important thing

  3. Perform the chant in full moon

  4. Whisper their true name, not too loud, but not too soft

Ji chan had known about the god of little things, but he was gifted with a strong heart which endures all hardships of life. He never succumbed to it. He never let his weak side get pulled through. Seeing ji chan now breaks my tiny heart, that is left undone. The figure I’ve always watched with strong shoulders with a stubborn head to couple with is crumbling, ageing away, and dying. Worst of all, his eyes that used to be ignited or shown the light when the human woman was around is now dull. Hollowed cheeks, labouring breath, and creaky old bones stopped moving completely. Nothing lasts, nothing is finished, and nothing is perfect. Imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete. That was a belief ji chan held dear close to his heart.They muttered it to each other before 4 syllables two words. Instead of I love yous or aishteruyo, they say to one another before each parting words with “wabi-sabi”. It is also what the human woman said before she left him in her dying attempt of her last breath with her crushed lungs spilt out on the asphalt floor. Stone cold, it is. Dead, she is.

List of what the human woman is

  1. Human

  2. Woman

  3. Dead

  4. Dead

  5. Dead

  6. Dead

  7. Dead

  8. Dea

  9. D

  10. Dead and deader

  11. Deader than dead

  12. DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEADEAD DEAD

My time is almost ending. I would very much like to say that, but I can’t because the weight of my knowledge is heavy. I knew somewhere in another parallel world, I am simultaneously existing with different choices with twists and turns. Similar to that of a brain that, so little have in the empty spaces in their cranium.

“Make haste” whispers the wind

“The God of Little Things are not so forgiving” said the sunshine

“Do not waste this chance” the sprout shouted

Voices. Yes. Voices. I can hear them. I striked a deal with them, the omnipotent being who resemble that of a tiny potted succulent. I whispered their true name- διάβολος -they appeared in front of me with tiny little pin pricks thorn-like. They do not sound terrifying due to their external appearance, but the intrinsic or the way they were made sucks the ki inside of you all out. Seemingly, ordinary, yet has that composure to that of an asp before going in for the kill. They will, stare into your eyes, dig deep into your soul, for the eyes are the window of the soul. They will, propose to play a game, a bargain, a win-win situation only for them.

Lists of the rules of the “game”

  1. Player will be unable to remember ever contacting the contractor, nor the true name of the contractor till almost the nearing end of the quest.

  2. Player must follow the ends of the bargain, depending on the prize.

  3. Player if agreed to the following conditions will need to follow it without asking questions.

  4. Player will need to give up little bits of their mind to the contractor, for the human mind is beautifully twisted.

  5. Resistance is futile, and will result not in death, but a forever living paradox.

    1. Side effects of the game may contain:

      1. Partial amnesia

      2. Loss track of time

      3. May face a period of nonchalance

      4. May result in motor skill loss

      5. Sudden aging

      6. Hallucinations

        1. Do not worry for everything is under control, until all hell breaks loose when the game ends.

They knew, I will never be able to save the human woman, or regain ji chan’s consciousness. They knew, and they enjoyed watching me spun in confusion after every time I try to go back in time in exchange for my 8 lives and a piece of my mind. I’ve lost the game, and I know it. They knew, no matter how different or superior I think I am from humans or other cats I will still lose. They are here, to harvest the last bits I have left. No matter how great or smarter you think you are, you will never win at the game of life.

SNIP went the last bits of “my” sound mind

DoWn SiDE UPp SiDE uP DoWNn

LIke A sUNny SIde Up FRieD EgggG

MEOw

WEOm

 

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