Sat, 12 Jan 2002 21:36:22 -0800 (PST)
On Invisibility Ch 01 Repost


Thanks to Sara and Kess and everyone for expressing a desire to see
more of my writing.  That means a lot to me. 

Thanks to our very own special Kessily Kay for beta-ing this chapter. 

Any and all errors are mine mine mine.  :)  All constructive criticism
is welcome.  Enjoy!  (Please excuse the multiple reposts.  I'm working
out the formatting glitches.)

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        On Invisibility          Chapter 1

Borrowing Logan's body, I swiftly upend Kessily over my/his knee.  I
watch as my/his arm swings down and blisters Kess's covered bottom
soundly.  Feeling Logan's thoughts and desires, I know that he wants to
stop spanking Kess and apologize and hug her.

I input a little bit of conscious thought and will into Logan's mind.
The input causes Logan to lift his hand higher and strike the
miscreant's bottom more firmly.  Feeling a bit of remorse at my
actions, I manipulate Logan into thinking that Kess is spanked enough.
He stops spanking.

I exit his active neural pathways, and exist in just a corner of his
mind until it is safe to escape from him.  I simply observe the flow of
ideas in his mind as he goes through the process of the holding and
hugging Kess.  Kess, sleeping comfortably, is eased into her bed.

Logan continues to sit by her bed.  He holds her hand and comforts her
even in her sleep.  Luckily for me, Logan is such a wuss that he falls
asleep at her bedside.  I stealthily extract myself from the big
dorkwad and escape through the walls and into the forest in an
invisible undetectable telekinetic bubble that floats swiftly to my
choice of location.

This bubble has no smell, no mass, it is nothing.  It is truly and
definitely invisible.  I survive in the woods, meditating, and
searching for a way out of my existence.  A way out of the path that I
seem to be on.  To escape from being me.  With every bit of breath I
take, I struggle with self and life.

Alone and lonely, I weigh the words on an invisible scale of life.
Alone and lonely.  Are they the same and one?  Do they exist for their
own purposes, ones outside of those assigned by those mongrels
generally known as mankind?

Resolutely, words are weighed and observed, scrutinized and tested.
Only to find that there is no value in anything, except the one that is
assigned to it.  If that is the case, then is there a correct value for
anything?  Should there be a right and wrong?  Is it so clear as that?
Acceptable and not?

It doesn't make much sense to me.  I doubt that it ever will.  The
mongrels search for me as I meditate.  They have discovered a
specialized frequency emitting machine that is capable of disrupting
even the deepest trance state.  If I try to meditate around the
disrupter, I end up with something like a television ad stuck in my
mind.

In time, those "television ads" become stronger than mere suggestions.
They become the way that I process life around me.  They dictate my
actions so that they replace the true person that I am with some false
existence.  How will I safeguard me so that I am always myself and not
just some programmed monkey?

How will I know what I want when I have been taught to see the world
through the eyes of others?  How will I be able to see myself clearly
enough so that I might deign my own desires worthy of satisfaction?

What the mutants of Gen X called a special gift, I know as a curse.  To
see others clearly with mass, shape, and form; to be invisible myself.
That is a fucking curse.  I roar as the pain of my 'gift' rushes into
my head.  The picture in my brain has become more clear.

Something about Professor Chuck -- kill him?  No fucking way.  You
don't harm those that help you.  It is a creed of life.  Breaking both
the frequency transmitted and my invisibility, I break the image into
tiny pieces and send it to the garbage collection center of the brain
-- the automatic memory management section of the brain.

I hope that they pick and destroy that crap pronto.  That part of the
brain is the part that is most vital for a person's existence.  It
allows a person to be clean or to feel clean after swimming in sewers
for a lifetime.  So, that is my curse or gift depending on how you see
it.

That is what distinguishes me from the human animals.  I don't even fit
well with the others of my kind, the mutants.  No place on the planet
for me.  No place to call home.  Yearning for a sense of peace and
quiet and serenity.  Not quite broaching or finding that layer in my
own mind.

It's funny, I can swim around inside of other people's heads and fix
them.  I can heal them of the strangest diseases, things that even I
don't understand.  Yet, with even all of these things that I know, I
can't even find that stillness in me.  Why is this?

Some people say that in order to find peace you must be one with self
and nature.  Others say that you must eschew your physical material
things in order to find peace.  Still other happiness assholes state
clearly that you must cling blindly to the teachings that came before.

The teachings that are a path to our blind stumbling feet.  How is any
anyone supposed to sell a bunch of crap like that?  blind stumbling
feet?  Every person is more than that.  To have any person be so
dependent on any religion reminds me of the innocence lost in To Kill a
Mockingbird.

It's a sin to harm the Mockingbird because it is guileless. I transform
that into "It's a sin to harm innocent people."  I don't care if life
isn't fair.  I just want my piece of it to make sense.  There has to be
a rhythm, a pattern here.  Something that will have reason and fit into
the plan.  *Where's the fucking flashlight to see the fucking little
tree?*