One of the new stories I wrote
I wasn't sure if there was a place to just post stories on ngs so I just posted it here
Hearts That Pump Battery Acid
How is it that so many people are warped and controlled subconsciously? Do they even notice how pathetic they really are? It’s almost as if they’re acting or just pretending and they don’t have any power. Without power they’re unable to control themselves. Their power is stripped from them at such a young age before they can even fathom doing anything about it.
Human beings are strange creatures, but they always need a purpose. There must be something to fuel their hearts to keep on beating. People need a reason to get out of bed and a message to hold true inside of them. There’re so many reasons to be here and live these lives of ours.
We’re introduced to culture from our youth and we decide what we cultivate. We make the choices of what we want to be and believe. We reach out for satisfaction and we must fight for our very existence. Forming together to make each other stronger and helping those in need. We live and survive because of the cultures we find.
Everyday and every second life is being taken away and granted to new people. We are fortunate to be born such intelligent creatures. I could’ve been born a fish in the ocean, but somehow I’m human. Maybe in the future I’ll live a fish life for a while.
The gears turn in my head every waking second that I’m conscious on this planet. I think and think some more but I’m never able to escape insanity. I leave everything behind that I come to know and believe as it becomes dull. I’ve discovered the reasons to be alive and the purpose to stay alive and fight.
My brain never turns off completely until I’ve died. My heart never stops pumping until my brain turns off. The heart of compassion and love never gives up unless I want it to. So how do I do away with all the triggers and issues I have with anything? These problems drill into the center of my mind leaving me starving and blind.
At times my experience in this life is very intense. I start imagining the earth turning and the planets rotating. The entire solar system and the humongous universe as I feel so small. So small as a person and it has its pros and cons. On one hand it makes my problems seem to have little importance. On the other I feel so tiny as if nothing matters at all. That was only before I pushed further past those thoughts.
There are techniques to reason with oneself about anything. These concepts of mind and journeys of discovery become this climax in our heads. We travel in and out of what we are or need to be in any given situation. We’re disposable just as our states of being are. We could say any number of things about ourselves or anything.
My heart pumps these thoughts into a new love. A new understanding of compassion where my hands grow cold. My face stops its expression and my stomach stops its instinct. My mind bends and I move out of the perspective alterations I underwent. My heart pumps a numb feeling of analytical synergy in my thoughts of reason and trials of purpose.
I start to feel nothing, but my understanding requires me to feel nothing. My purpose and everything I’m up against directs me to drop emotional interruptions. To discard all the pieces and inquiries about past explanations to weave a new spider web of thought. The dots connect and my chest expands and releases its intake of oxygen. This is rare territory where one’s mind and heart can choose to live.
A scientist can cure all diseases and offer miracles to the people. If only I had the inspirations to pursue the life of a procedural intellectual. I could make a new routine but how far could my brains take me before I was irrelevant? Could I ever be substantial in any way that I sought out? With any skill or trade could I offer anything that is valuable?
The sweat pours down my face and the water runs down my throat. If all that mattered was love and honor, then I need it to encase me. I need to find what makes me whole and dispose of useless weak ways. I must force myself into something and be something. The best possible outcome of this broken soul.
The blood pumps through as everything I define passes me by. My brain only gets lost some more before it can wake up. I need to wake up and that’s all I ever wanted to do was just wake up. I need to live but see life for what it is and be happy. If only I could just think myself into happiness or hypnotize myself in some way.
I branch off and break off into different thought processes all the time and this makes me crazy. The thoughts and conclusions I reach become scattered and unorganized. I become disassociated with anyone else and everything they understand. A madman on his own leash just barking at every subject matter that passes him by.
All the attempts to explain this seem to bounce of the ears of listeners. They most likely won’t remember or ever realize what they’re up against. They don’t want to fight or see the world in such an intense way. Most are the average commoner that lack the ability to break themselves. They will never subject themselves to the real strength they have.
Their capabilities are overlooked and undermined by others. The icons and idols they worship are a symbol of strength or a reason for them to keep going. Battery acid pumps in their blood as the robot they’ve become functions in an ordinary fashion.
How is anyone to blame when the facts are in front of their faces? We’re all consumers and either citizens or soldiers. We’re residents of this massive system created for the benefit of individuals. We all might as well have a cattle tag attached to our ear with a number on it. Getting in line to be slaughtered by the risks that oppose our purpose.
So, what’s the big deal with everyone anyways? When the responses and criticisms are so similar on any given day for any number of random people. We’re these cattle robots with this fuel pumping us up or down to exist in this world of whatever we make it into. Our choices are so substantial but irrelevant as our entire world inside in the same.
We’re pushed to fight or to rot on the pavement in the sunlight being flipped like a pancake. Which side of us will we expose or chose to burn next? The heat hits all angles of our existence and we’ll exploit and dispose of anything we please. So as our hearts pump whatever fluid we make it to be the fire either burns us from the inside or outside. Whichever way we end up being burnt we exist as a conscious conceptual creatures with rare decisions.