The AznGeek

Posted by psych at July 19th, 2007

Thats my inexcusably lame perception on how a Chinese peasant in the deepest, most isolated part of China, would pronounce the word ‘Fiction’. Or could it be how the Chinese MPH girl pronounced it when I asked her where the Fiction section was? Hmm.. ponder.

“Who are you?” Desperation hung heavy in those three simple words. He wasn’t thick enough to believe that his descent would last much longer. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the courage to angle his head so he could have an idea of exactly how much longer he had.

The voice returned. “Finally. You kept me waiting for quite a while. But that’s the wrong question.” The finality of these words sent his mind into disarray. What was that supposed to even mean? How can a question be wrong when the answer is unknown to me?

“Any question is legitimate, if it can be answered!” He almost spat the words out. In spite of this, the voice seemed unperturbed by his newly found confidence. It merely laughed and repeated it’s stance.

“It is the wrong question.” The voice didn’t stress anything. It merely repeated the sentence. Without emotion or a even a hint of annoyance.

“Dammit. I need to look down. Get my bearings and brace myself if possible.” His voice, not defeated but resigned to his fate, cut through his thoughts. Even now he could hear the sounds of the ongoing humans below him. That close? I expected it to take longer. Here we go. He forced the muscles in his neck and shoulders to obey his will.

Turning slowly, he could make out the same horizon he was working up to earlier. Only there wasn’t one. They sky went on, and on. Nothingness beneath him. Sky filled every inch of his viewing range. Surprise and relief swept his battered mind. If only his parents could see him now, sailing through the unending blue sky. Indeed, an unnatural thought but one that occurred nonetheless.

“Amazing view, isn’t it? Made it myself. Was a little worried about the parameters but in my opinion, it does the sun a lot of justice.”

pSyCh

Posted by psych at July 17th, 2007

I keep churning these out. The neverending holidays are starting to get to me. I need stimulation. I’ll keep churning them out since I’m not sure about my internet security August-September comes. Might go a long time before I can type out anything again. The story below, is totally random, but IMO readable. Short enough not to bore you but not too short that it doesn’t convey anything at all. I’m planning to continue this. For no reason in particular. Non-readers are fun to please.

The cloudless blue sky went as far as his eyes could see. He strained them to peek at the edges; struggling to catch the tiniest glimpse of a horizon.

“Almost.. there.” He mused to himself as he imagined what he would behold once he reached his goal. His imagination in check, he willed his mind to move his eyes downwards, more and more, towards-

“Can’t you see it?” The voice that interrupted his thoughts was familiar; not his own. It was void of any hostility and he immediately warmed up to it. It made sense to him at that moment to cease his fruitless attempts to reach the end. In fact, he’d forgotten why he had even begun.

Instantly, his mind’s eye shot back from the edges of the infinite sky and once again beheld it in its entirety. Savouring it. At the very heart of it, he noticed a falling leaf. Small enough to be ordinary, but all the same out of place in the mighty heavens.

“What a strange feeling. I feel as weightless as the leaf but unafraid of falling.” Indeed, his body, or rather his mind, had began imitating the leaf’s motion, replacing quiet security with the rush of adrenaline that can only follow an act of pure exhilaration.

“There is, of course, nothing to fear. That is why you feel none.” The voice sounded more convincing by the moment. However, curiosity began to fill him. The events unfolding seemingly made no sense and yet all he could do was enjoy the safe, albeit increasing accelerating descent from the dreamlike atmosphere that made up the enormous sky. His face still faced heavenwards. He could still see the falling leaf. The leaf ceased falling at that very moment and was carried off by a rogue gust. The westerly winds cushioning the fall of the leaf seemingly mocked his own clumsy descent through the air.

“This is madness.” That sentence had become almost ritual since his initiation. Madness indeed. He would have appreciated it if only there was a scheme, an underlying plan to any madness. But then again, he thought cheerfully, that would mean that madness would cease to exist. All that would be left was but intricate designs and patterns. Maybe clever but never mad enough to baffle clear logic.

pSyCh