Friday, January 8, 2016

Higher Perception

Prisco, Giulio. "Transhumanism Is All about Getting High." Humanity. N.p., 3 Dec. 2013. Web.

I was passing through bushes of weeds and rusting metal benches when a ray of light shined through the grey sky of gloomy clouds. I looking up at the ray and sensed the nerves in my eyes. I instinctively squeezed them. When I opened them, a majestically beautiful bird appeared. The bird began flying around me joyfully while flapping its elastic wings. My eyes opened widely as I followed the bird’s manipulating movements. At some point, I got dizzy and stopped, looked down at the ravaged path to balance. The bird noticed, placed its feather-like weight on my shoulder, and began singing. Such notes, as of the bird’s, had never been heard to a man before and I simply fell in love with it.

With my head still light, I noticed that the bird finished singing, and it looked as though it was ready to take off. For some reason, I felt a strong desire for the bird to stay. Before it could disappear forever, I couldn’t resist the temptation and asked the bird to wait around. The bird looked amazed by the offer and happily landed on my open palm. It was so beautiful, but every time I tried to concentrate on it, my vision betrayed me and doubled everything. I think I was also seeing colors that perpetually reappeared if I kept my eyes open for a while. This bird really has special powers.

On the way, I even came up with a name for the bird, a beautiful name.

“My precious, to pronounce this name would be disgraceful, in the same way that God shall not be defined”.

What I said kind of amused me and I giggled a bit. I then asked the bird to sing for me again. With every sound, my senses became numb and I almost lost my balance. But suddenly the music turned into “squeaks” which reminded me of the sound that fingernails make while scratching the classroom’s board.

My focus returned to me, and I looked at the bird. It was still in my hands, but my fingers were holding it tightly. I controlled my senses and released my fingers from the little bird. It was no longer beautiful, more precisely, it was black and sloppy. Its feathers were short and ugly. I even decided to smell the bird for some reason, and it reminded me of the time I smelled my wet dog. Eww. I felt like throwing up. I began thinking that I might have choked it and it simply is dead. But before I concluded this thought, the rush through my brain took control over me. My heart began beating quickly, my body heating up… and without noticing, I slipped my other hand into my pocket. I lit up another joint. I took a puff without even noticing. Ahh… nothing feels better than this.
I looked at the bird again. Look at it, it is so cute. I decided to let it sleep in peace and approached a bench. I put the bird on the bench and kissed it goodbye.

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