Sometimes the most unexpected things come in life.  Love.  Money.  Fame?  Does it really matter if all we ever look for in these social ideologies and concepts is happiness?  


Turns out that one of them – love – does.


Love does matter.


DAY 100

As I stared out the dusty window of the broken-down, muddy yellow taxi I called “home”, I sighed.  Another tiring day of life has started for me.  Another painfully “normal” daily routine begins where I must face the numerous terrible entities which life has presented me as a pest from below.  Another day after meeting Him…

and after the beginning of the end.


DAY -10

The people below.  They looked extremely pathetic and so easily malleable to the demands of society and its authoritative bodies, scuttling about like petty rats in a pesticide-filled sewer of humanity’s perceived realities.  Poised from above just when the growing rays of light peeked over the horizon, I played with my glowing sceptre.  The piece of metal lying in my hands felt ever-so light, nearly like an angel’s fallen feather.  Not only did I have an advantage over the people below, but I also had an inconceivable prowess which these pitiful subjects lacked.  I had the most powerful skill available to a woman of this time and age.


The skill to erase without remorse or regret.


What were we to do?  In the past, we had simply amassed to, in a “civilized manner”, attempt to convey our messages of derogatory pain and suffering that came from our “fellow” citizens through unions and movements.  Well, at least that’s what myth says.  Nowadays, a proper lady cannot afford to take such leisurely measures of “loving one another”.  

We cannot afford to hold such characteristics especially with the increasing number of corrupt Tetragrammaton.  To be emotional was to be weak.  To love was to be incapacitated.  


Afterall, it is the modern times.  


DAY -100000

It’s not fair.  Why is Mommy gone?  Daddy told me that she was just sleeping and that she would get better one day.  Daddy…Daddy said he would take care of things, but he never came back after one of the really tall buildings that touched the sky went boom.  He said that he would bring Him, the one that would be able to solve all of our problems.  


But he’s not here.


All that ever came to the door came in a small box with the word “EVOL ot”.  I don’t know what that means or what to do with it yet though.  Mommy always told me to never trust whatever I got from strangers, but I have a feeling.  It’s a gut feeling.


It was Him.


DAY 777

Laying in this beat-down yellow piece of junk for a year or so has gotten to me some.  I was useless.  I was unprofitable.  I was no longer the one holding the sceptre, watching from above.  


I was one of the people below.  


It’s been some time since I met Peace.  She always danced at the corners of my eyes, like a faint fairy in distorted memories. Maybe this is how it should be done : life that is.  Maybe I was meant… DESTINED to feel this vulnerability of human mortality.  Maybe I was the Chosen One who would carry everyone’s burdens.  Maybe I was the McCandfull of reality, enlightened with the knowledge that divinity lies in the environment which surrounds me.  


Or was I Ozymandius?


Was I the one who perceived greatness but knew nothing?


I think not.


I think I understand what love is now.  Love is not compassion.  Love is not pity.  Love is not emotional.


Rather, love is carnal.  Love is necessary.    Love is what runs a species to success.  Love is the backbone of future generations, keeping us from falling to pieces in a chaotic anarchy.


Love comes from Him.  Love is Him.



How could I have trusted Him?  The silhouette which mimicked that of the numerous corrupt Tetragrammaton stood in front of me holding the sceptre which I had lost so long ago.  


My lost power.


However, the weapon no longer glowed; it blinded.  


It all went black.


I saw a vision.  A sparkling sea full of shining stars.  A dark but hopeful sky, holding an unlimited number of possibilities in its abysmal depths.  A tower of little “EVOL” boxes stacked up into a formation of the very skyscraper which had fallen the day my Daddy went away.    


A growing puddle of red.


I came to.  He stood in front of me holding out the ever-so blinding sceptre towards me.  With an ever-so gentle smile to match His ever-so poised body, He nodded.  


Did He want me to take it?  Was it a test of divine loyalty?  


Was it really Him?


How was I to know?  Did it matter anymore?  It didn’t.  I took the sceptre into my hands : true or false, love is the same.


I was wrong.



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