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Because I haven't graced these forums with a story for a while, here's a quicky I wrote a while back:
======
Some things in life need constant work for slow, progressive improvement. Exercising, for instance, over time consumes stored fat for energy, and builds and tones muscle tissue. There is no defining moment with such an activity. The change, if monitored day by day, is almost imperceptible. But the change is there, nonetheless. Other things in life are more abrupt. They happen in instances of great change or vision. Inspiration, for example, happens like an instant of clarity, where the penny drops, or puzzle fits perfectly, if only for a short time.
Jon discovered, to his delight, that ascension to a higher state of consciousness fell into the latter category. He had sought the secrets for years, with effectively no success. It was an obsession though, and as such, not finding anything for so long was only an indication that the truth was well hidden and elusive rather than that it simply did not exist.
For the last three years, he had locked himself away on his hilltop cabin with an array of materials with which to seek out the truth he so desperately sought. The word of God, the destiny of man, Ascension – the higher state. He didn’t know why, but he had become increasingly convinced of the existence of what others politely detailed ‘wistful fantasy’ before his self-imposed solitude. He had lost his job, his family and his friends, but all of it paled into insignificance if he could find what he had been looking for.
And he had found it. It had felt almost orgasmic as a sudden rush of conclusions ran through his thoughts like a tempestuous revelation. His eyes had been opened and at last he could see. As the rush hit him, his fingers loosened around the coffee mug in his hand and it fell to the floor. He watched it in slow motion, seeing more than anyone else could ever believe was there. The energy of the mug, the dead resilience of the hardwood floor and the myriad of insects living within, the strange, contented life he could feel in the hot, black liquid as it escaped its ceramic receptacle.
He didn’t try to clean up the mess, because he realised that it wasn’t a mess. A hundred thousand factors of the world came together to create the sight below him. So many forms of energy, it was enough to overwhelm someone who had not been seeking such a truth. Life was everywhere, in everything.
Slowly, carefully, he stepped out of the cabin, a look of glorious wonder etched into his face. He felt the wind as it brushed past him, not by feeling the imprints it made on his clothing, or by noticing how the wind lovingly urged him to move with it, but instead in his mind. He tasted the air, and could trace its history back through mountains and valleys. The air had passed though the lungs of birds, mice, elephants and men before it had come to touch him. He could sense the age of every atom passing by, touched every one with his mind as though saying an enlightened ‘hello’ to nature itself.
He closed his eyes, because he no longer needed them. He could see just as clearly without. Extending his arms out to his sides, he fell to his knees and reached out to the wind to take him. In a moment of wondrous elation, he felt it happen. Gently, as though not wanting to harm him, or perhaps through a mutual love or kinship, the wind took him, leaving his unnecessary shell behind. To the skies he drifted, on wings of pure bliss, as he joined with both heaven and earth, as he now knew that the two were one.
======
Some things in life need constant work for slow, progressive improvement. Exercising, for instance, over time consumes stored fat for energy, and builds and tones muscle tissue. There is no defining moment with such an activity. The change, if monitored day by day, is almost imperceptible. But the change is there, nonetheless. Other things in life are more abrupt. They happen in instances of great change or vision. Inspiration, for example, happens like an instant of clarity, where the penny drops, or puzzle fits perfectly, if only for a short time.
Jon discovered, to his delight, that ascension to a higher state of consciousness fell into the latter category. He had sought the secrets for years, with effectively no success. It was an obsession though, and as such, not finding anything for so long was only an indication that the truth was well hidden and elusive rather than that it simply did not exist.
For the last three years, he had locked himself away on his hilltop cabin with an array of materials with which to seek out the truth he so desperately sought. The word of God, the destiny of man, Ascension – the higher state. He didn’t know why, but he had become increasingly convinced of the existence of what others politely detailed ‘wistful fantasy’ before his self-imposed solitude. He had lost his job, his family and his friends, but all of it paled into insignificance if he could find what he had been looking for.
And he had found it. It had felt almost orgasmic as a sudden rush of conclusions ran through his thoughts like a tempestuous revelation. His eyes had been opened and at last he could see. As the rush hit him, his fingers loosened around the coffee mug in his hand and it fell to the floor. He watched it in slow motion, seeing more than anyone else could ever believe was there. The energy of the mug, the dead resilience of the hardwood floor and the myriad of insects living within, the strange, contented life he could feel in the hot, black liquid as it escaped its ceramic receptacle.
He didn’t try to clean up the mess, because he realised that it wasn’t a mess. A hundred thousand factors of the world came together to create the sight below him. So many forms of energy, it was enough to overwhelm someone who had not been seeking such a truth. Life was everywhere, in everything.
Slowly, carefully, he stepped out of the cabin, a look of glorious wonder etched into his face. He felt the wind as it brushed past him, not by feeling the imprints it made on his clothing, or by noticing how the wind lovingly urged him to move with it, but instead in his mind. He tasted the air, and could trace its history back through mountains and valleys. The air had passed though the lungs of birds, mice, elephants and men before it had come to touch him. He could sense the age of every atom passing by, touched every one with his mind as though saying an enlightened ‘hello’ to nature itself.
He closed his eyes, because he no longer needed them. He could see just as clearly without. Extending his arms out to his sides, he fell to his knees and reached out to the wind to take him. In a moment of wondrous elation, he felt it happen. Gently, as though not wanting to harm him, or perhaps through a mutual love or kinship, the wind took him, leaving his unnecessary shell behind. To the skies he drifted, on wings of pure bliss, as he joined with both heaven and earth, as he now knew that the two were one.
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I haven't written a story in quite a while. No time these days.
I wrote it myself you presumptuous philistine.
Quite good, was it written by someone else and you just found it and copied it? or was it in a book that you just read?
Is it about Jon Tickle?
Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight...
He's gay isn't he?
A gay man on LSD.
Excellent
A gay man on LSD.
Excellent
Because I haven't graced these forums with a story for a while, here's a quicky I wrote a while back:
======
Some things in life need constant work for slow, progressive improvement. Exercising, for instance, over time consumes stored fat for energy, and builds and tones muscle tissue. There is no defining moment with such an activity. The change, if monitored day by day, is almost imperceptible. But the change is there, nonetheless. Other things in life are more abrupt. They happen in instances of great change or vision. Inspiration, for example, happens like an instant of clarity, where the penny drops, or puzzle fits perfectly, if only for a short time.
Jon discovered, to his delight, that ascension to a higher state of consciousness fell into the latter category. He had sought the secrets for years, with effectively no success. It was an obsession though, and as such, not finding anything for so long was only an indication that the truth was well hidden and elusive rather than that it simply did not exist.
For the last three years, he had locked himself away on his hilltop cabin with an array of materials with which to seek out the truth he so desperately sought. The word of God, the destiny of man, Ascension – the higher state. He didn’t know why, but he had become increasingly convinced of the existence of what others politely detailed ‘wistful fantasy’ before his self-imposed solitude. He had lost his job, his family and his friends, but all of it paled into insignificance if he could find what he had been looking for.
And he had found it. It had felt almost orgasmic as a sudden rush of conclusions ran through his thoughts like a tempestuous revelation. His eyes had been opened and at last he could see. As the rush hit him, his fingers loosened around the coffee mug in his hand and it fell to the floor. He watched it in slow motion, seeing more than anyone else could ever believe was there. The energy of the mug, the dead resilience of the hardwood floor and the myriad of insects living within, the strange, contented life he could feel in the hot, black liquid as it escaped its ceramic receptacle.
He didn’t try to clean up the mess, because he realised that it wasn’t a mess. A hundred thousand factors of the world came together to create the sight below him. So many forms of energy, it was enough to overwhelm someone who had not been seeking such a truth. Life was everywhere, in everything.
Slowly, carefully, he stepped out of the cabin, a look of glorious wonder etched into his face. He felt the wind as it brushed past him, not by feeling the imprints it made on his clothing, or by noticing how the wind lovingly urged him to move with it, but instead in his mind. He tasted the air, and could trace its history back through mountains and valleys. The air had passed though the lungs of birds, mice, elephants and men before it had come to touch him. He could sense the age of every atom passing by, touched every one with his mind as though saying an enlightened ‘hello’ to nature itself.
He closed his eyes, because he no longer needed them. He could see just as clearly without. Extending his arms out to his sides, he fell to his knees and reached out to the wind to take him. In a moment of wondrous elation, he felt it happen. Gently, as though not wanting to harm him, or perhaps through a mutual love or kinship, the wind took him, leaving his unnecessary shell behind. To the skies he drifted, on wings of pure bliss, as he joined with both heaven and earth, as he now knew that the two were one.
======
Some things in life need constant work for slow, progressive improvement. Exercising, for instance, over time consumes stored fat for energy, and builds and tones muscle tissue. There is no defining moment with such an activity. The change, if monitored day by day, is almost imperceptible. But the change is there, nonetheless. Other things in life are more abrupt. They happen in instances of great change or vision. Inspiration, for example, happens like an instant of clarity, where the penny drops, or puzzle fits perfectly, if only for a short time.
Jon discovered, to his delight, that ascension to a higher state of consciousness fell into the latter category. He had sought the secrets for years, with effectively no success. It was an obsession though, and as such, not finding anything for so long was only an indication that the truth was well hidden and elusive rather than that it simply did not exist.
For the last three years, he had locked himself away on his hilltop cabin with an array of materials with which to seek out the truth he so desperately sought. The word of God, the destiny of man, Ascension – the higher state. He didn’t know why, but he had become increasingly convinced of the existence of what others politely detailed ‘wistful fantasy’ before his self-imposed solitude. He had lost his job, his family and his friends, but all of it paled into insignificance if he could find what he had been looking for.
And he had found it. It had felt almost orgasmic as a sudden rush of conclusions ran through his thoughts like a tempestuous revelation. His eyes had been opened and at last he could see. As the rush hit him, his fingers loosened around the coffee mug in his hand and it fell to the floor. He watched it in slow motion, seeing more than anyone else could ever believe was there. The energy of the mug, the dead resilience of the hardwood floor and the myriad of insects living within, the strange, contented life he could feel in the hot, black liquid as it escaped its ceramic receptacle.
He didn’t try to clean up the mess, because he realised that it wasn’t a mess. A hundred thousand factors of the world came together to create the sight below him. So many forms of energy, it was enough to overwhelm someone who had not been seeking such a truth. Life was everywhere, in everything.
Slowly, carefully, he stepped out of the cabin, a look of glorious wonder etched into his face. He felt the wind as it brushed past him, not by feeling the imprints it made on his clothing, or by noticing how the wind lovingly urged him to move with it, but instead in his mind. He tasted the air, and could trace its history back through mountains and valleys. The air had passed though the lungs of birds, mice, elephants and men before it had come to touch him. He could sense the age of every atom passing by, touched every one with his mind as though saying an enlightened ‘hello’ to nature itself.
He closed his eyes, because he no longer needed them. He could see just as clearly without. Extending his arms out to his sides, he fell to his knees and reached out to the wind to take him. In a moment of wondrous elation, he felt it happen. Gently, as though not wanting to harm him, or perhaps through a mutual love or kinship, the wind took him, leaving his unnecessary shell behind. To the skies he drifted, on wings of pure bliss, as he joined with both heaven and earth, as he now knew that the two were one.
Page: