Written Works

But Creatures

We are but creatures. Creatures with belts and rings, beards and scars, shoes and keys. We carry disease and bitter pain. We fester sickness and rot. We create death, we undo life. There is nothing inside of us except instinct and defunct genes. How can you look around and see His image? How can you think perfection was put into us? You are fools. You are blinded fools. We are but flesh. We are but creatures.

A Solar Flare

The city was sharp and full of cancelled verve. I enjoyed it. The people were caught in their ambitions, like purposeful statues. Some were blank-faced, some were looking down, and very few were happy. I felt a childish hankering to move and manipulate all of them. It was like I was in life-sized pseudo-town filled with mannequins appropriately dressed for the weather. But I resisted, I had a gained a great power and I could not abuse it.

Leap Then Look

The whole world was presented to him in a gloriously vibrant panorama. The clouds were taped to the rich blue sky and the grass below seemed welcoming and healthy, like the ground had never felt hurt. All of civilization seemed so small and forgettable beneath him. The rushing air felt firm and natural against his face. Colors and other visual stimulus screamed at him as he continued his descent.