Week 87_GVN 908
in collaboration with instagram.com/njnx
This is a short story about magical forces haunting the planet. Traveling through space and time; possessing human bodies. They leave behind no trace, letting the Flesh believe its sovereign. Two people exchange information about the mysterious apparition of some pictures. They are doubtful creatures, and fearful. The omens predict the inexorable decay of their kingdom, and yet there they stand, talking. Clue after clue the mystery unfolds: do they even exist? Are they dead already? And if the Platform matched you, is it really true love?
A silence so deep the whole room was sucked in it
absorbed by its obscurity
nothing human makes it out this void
the sigil is broken
our bodies possessed
uv textures clothed twin demons
we’ll have no memories of this trance
we’ll have no memory at all of this possession
the game they play
these reversed shadows
a subtle one
Prisoners
they imprisoned our Sovereign
a world so real you’ll never want to log out
In a tesseract propelled by angelic forces
pentadimensional wings
Maybe I didn’t want to be seen, maybe confusion is what I was looking for. An autonomous space of ambiguity, multiplicity. But now I’m worried about you. Did I hurt you? Did your heart stopped? Are you crying? I don’t know what or who gotten into me. But that silence was so perfect, like in movies, that immense moment of suspence, I had to do something about it. Maybe I did want to hurt you a bit, to see if you care about me, to see if my actions have actual consequences on you. Maybe i’m just a fucking depressed beta male, afraid he’s losing agency over you. Control.
there’s another part to this story tho few hours ago I opened my closet and here they are, the pictures like, it’s weird no? Because I always kept them in the notebook, for like months, but I must have moved them yesterday night before leaving the house it must have been some kind of automated process because I only have a faint memory of it, and only now that i found them Uh that is weird… is like your future self stepped out of its timeline and whispered in your ear to move them you think that’s possible? Yeah totally, I think love can create ripples in space time, and something alien may come out of it you know like when Lancelot and King Arthur fight and the Lady of the Lake emerges?
With the sword.
Yeah. A present.
What if we never actually took those pictures in our timeline but we did in another one, so they appeared in ours? Like what if even the memory of me losing them was retro deposited in my brain, like you know like my brain is already synchronised with some kind of cross dimensional cloud? Yeah that could be it but that would be sad no? That means our perfect day, and our past together, wouldn’t exist maybe we don’t even love each other in this timeline maybe someone else made us love each other.
The platform made us love each other.
Are you afraid of being a shadow in another timeline’s cave? You read my mind i think the loss of agency is a big fear of mine is that why you keep using paper? maybe.
I think I have trust issues
But still, even if your image was someone else’s property, wouldn’t your actions have consequences nevertheless? Wasn’t I hurt from the joke you never made? Being authentic is overrated anyway we’d supersede our creators in this multi dimensional geology these forces connect us through space and time every node has the same agency, and memories are not fixed a poli-temporal distributed network of flesh and blood and demonic energies and memetic angels travelling through space and time.
Something like that.
