I came back here to delete some old entries. This blog has been dead for a long time, but it always bothered me that someone else might find it and bring some entries up. Cheers.
Monday, September 26, 2011
12:15 a.m.

Cleansing

Cathedral

The man stood outside the majestic building and stared in awe. The great cathedral had been built years ago and had grown over the years in this great urban landscape. Windowless, it encompassed his view. Spanning more than two kilometers, he thought it to be the largest building in the city, possible the world. Gray and imposing, it stood as a monument to all the Gods that resided there

It had five levels, with a multitude of stairs (moving and non-moving) and elevators. The entire cathedral hummed nonstop, filled with bells, voices, blaring guitars, electric appliances whose functions produced various levels of noise and many more.

It was a place of wonder, a place of fulfillment, of Gods, Gods among mortal men.

The door hissed shut behind him, offering him a view of the interior. Various sights and sounds assailed him, confusing him, inebriating him, taking him. The chants of the vast multitude reached into his core, satisfying man’s primal urge, something that only men could desire.

Different languages were spoken there. English, German, French, Filipino, Japanese, Arabic, Chinese (in various dialects) or various combinations of the multitudes of languages present today and some still to be invented tomorrow. Supplicant could barely understand the things being said, for the speaking of languages had become butchered, Grammar would’ve cringed at the things she heard in that place.

He passed by the God of Eukanuba, running tirelessly in Its wheel inside a cage made of purest gold. Various paraphernalia hung outside its gilded surface, water bottles, pellet dispensers and other things that whirled and turned. As the God ran, the little wheel spun along with him, negating his progress. Supplicant, for that was his name, supposed that the God’s actions, no matter how pointless it seemed to himself, was some form of entertainment to Eukanuba’s followers. He went on.

He took a brief moment’s rest in front of the God of Box Office Hits, savoring the exploits of an Eskimo trying to get a snow flake across the great Arabian Desert while being hindered by a multitude of Genies, Djinns and men in metal helicopters dropping chocolate grasshoppers. A mixture of pointless human drama, intense action scenes, a random sex scene and a generous amount of special effects ensured its success during the release. He went on.

He passed the God of Small Trinkets and Angel Figurines without a thought, neglecting the beautiful glass angels that sang and danced along the small window of the God’s humble storefront inside the great and humongous cathedral. There was no humanity in such a God who peddled perfection in small glass packets. He went on.

Inevitably, Supplicant reached his God’s personal niche in the cathedral. His God never took cash, only tokens dutifully supplied by His high priestess. He bought his tokens supplied by the high priestess, a lady inside a plastic booth wearing a candy-annoying-green vest with a plastic visor on top of her combed hair. She had a strip of plastic pinned on it with the phrase ‘Hi, I’m Employee!’ She was wearing a lot of make-up, as is the tradition among the high priestesses inside the cathedral. He handed over some cash, got his change and his tokens.

Reverently, he walked over to his God who was displaying some men and women fighting enthusiastically. In a few moments, Supplicant would manipulate one of these men or women. He handed over one token to his God and proceeded to commune with him, losing himself in the exhilarating high of the moment, connecting with his God.

Supplicant’s God respected skill and power. The more you had of these, the more time you could spend with your God. Tokens also bought you time with Him, clinking coins embossed with a powerful pattern of runes and letters, meaningless to the ordinary man.

Inevitably, Supplicant ran out of time and tokens. He could no longer afford an audience with his God. Sighing, he stood up and left, past the plastic booth, through the cathedral filled with various mystical Gods who flaunted all their power and beauty to these mortals, Gods who, for a price, could be the servants of these mortals. Finally, he reached the outside, leaving behind the dancing lights and wall of sound.

Anthem of our dying day by the story of the year

I find this song strangely comforting in this nice cold weather. I feel sedated yet brimming with energy when I wake up and it is raining. I think I survive on depression...

The PC IS WORKING!!!

Whoopee!!! the desktop is working. Lost ALL MY FILES though. Sayang. That includes all my music, my art, YM, MIRC... downloading YM and mirc right now... but at least it's faster... until we fill it up with new stuff.

Hahaha...

Yeah...

Concert!!!

Do you want to Penetrate me? Or is it is I who have penetrated you...