The Life and Death of Erasmus
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
The carrier of X couples with the carrier of Y.
I am begun.
I am conscious.
I feed from the cord.
At the end of the third trimester,
I slide down the birth canal.
I emerge.
"It's a boy!", exclaims someone, but I cannot comprehend the meaning of the words. My language processing ability has not developed yet.
I cry.
I suckle.
I sleep.
I wake up.
I sleep.
I wake up.
I look at Nourishment. My mind forms the word Ma.
I look at Safety. My mind forms the word Pa.
I am named. I have an identity. I am Erasmus.
I grow.
I skin my knee.
I ride a bicycle.
I touch myself.
I grow.
I become aware of the other sex.
I fantasize at night.
I return to reality in the morning.
I meet a girl one day. I give her a flower.
She takes my flower. Our stories have overlapped.
I kiss her. I have not learned words to describe the feeling.
She trusts me.
She loves me.
Do I love her?
I make awkward love to her.
I return to her bed every night for a month.
I dump her.
I play football.
I join the team.
I enter my prime.
I womanize.
I sleep with a young lady. I sleep with her best friend. I sleep with the best friend's sister. I continue the cycle until there isn't a bed left in this town that I haven't slept in.
I fornicate. I impregnate. I will remake Man in my image.
I give up my carnal desires.
I become autodidactic.
I contemplate the mysteries of Life.
I begin my school of thought.
I travel the world, offering answers.
I am hailed as a saint, an avatar, a reincarnation.
I act as a conduit, offering service to a postal district that lies under the jurisdiction of no earthly post office. The abode of God.
I am blessed by He. He commands me to build a holy shrine in His name. A shrine that will cost the lives and beliefs of millions. A shrine that will show them the one true God.
I begin construction.
The Shrine causes unrest amongst followers of other beliefs. I try to quell the unrest. Be patient, my flock, I tell them, God will descend upon us in all his glory.
I get stabbed in the back, two days before the completion of the shrine.
I turn around to see the face of my attacker. I see the commonality of the common man in his face.
I wonder how I have wronged him to deserve this fate, but I cannot form the words in my throat, blood rushing up through it.
I collapse on his shoulders.
I am unconscious.
I remain unconscious.
I lose consciousness.
I am ended.
posted by foogarky @ 11:54 AM,
1 Comments:
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At 8:01 AM,
Mihir Pathare said...
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Man this is disturbing... what is this? O_o You alright? Is the job getting to you?
The Author
foogarky
foogarky is the pseudonym of the fictional construct who battles for supremacy with other constructed personas in the mind of a crazed individual. He describes himself as a man living in a non descript house in Rio De Janiero, Brazil with two dogs and a parakeet.
About This Blog
The Loony Lampoonist serves to parody, spoof and satirize everything that needs to be parodied, spoofed and satirized. Due to the fictional nature of this electronic journal, any anecdotes appearing here ever so often that seem to be personal in nature, would suffer from the effects of conflicting personalities, the creation of fictional events and the inclusion of non existent characters who did not make it to the big league in the author's literary works. Thus, the Loony Lampoonist is also a purgatory for characters and ideas that have missed the limelight.
