29/06/28 It’s Gonna Be About Roads
This one guy was looking at two roads: one road was going East, the other West. Maybe he thought they were the same; after all, its builder would agree. Still, if he was to select either of the two available destinations*, he would be going through different cities, and meet different people!
*DISCLAIMER: the world is a flat plane, under a circular dome named ‘the sky’. Every road is strictly cardinal with one of four equal strength magnetic poles shaped like columns. Those columns stand at equal distance from each other, at the edge of the world.
In the end he went back into the bushes from whence he came, savage animal that he was!
Another over there! This one was so fat, it was hard to imagine he could have been out there in the wild, to his own disgusting and obese device! Oh! He looked both ways before crossing! Oh! Let’s talk to that one!
“Hello.”
“Ok.”
“What are you doing?”
“Isn’t obvious? I am eating!”
“What are you eating?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I am eating YOU!”
The fat man lunged, waiving his fat arms around.
Gravity took care of the rest; and so, the would-be assailant was now prone.
“Would you rather go West or East?” the fat man was asked, “also, by what name do you go?”
“Blister your hands! Blister your feet! Leave me alone!”
The excremental bag of grease got kicked in the stomach* until he formed a better answer.
*DISCLAIMER: in fat culture, there is no greater humiliation than hurting the stomach. The stomach is a monument, an altar, the true self; a precious relic that must be protected, cherished, and nurtured at all cost.
“I would go West! Now leave me alone!”
“I see. Any particular reason?”
“Of course not! But roads are taken! It’s the way it’s always been!”
Yes. He is right. The way it has been. Always.
Always.
If only one was to conjure from the ether some perfect, beautiful, absence of a road! Then, at long last! Things would change for the best!
Roads! Roads! Roads! Each intersection! A prison! Not enough information for a perfect decision!
“I see. Goodbye.”
“Ok.” the fat man replied, before realizing: “Wait. Without you I can’t get back up! Give me your hand!”
The fat piece of grease was, at the very least, partially sincere; left on his own, out there, he would doubtlessly be eaten alive by some predator. The likelihood of predation taking off enough grease for the man to achieve getting up and escaping seemed rather low. Additionally, many predators preferred eating muscles rather than putrid grease - such multitude of reasons!
“No.”
“But I need it!”
“Well, you should have thought of what you needed before you indulged in what you wanted!”
“No!”
A branding iron was used on the forehead of the dead-man-laying, reading “Cannibal”.
We are now going back into ambush mode! There is some guy over here, and then there’s another guy over there. Wait a second! Someone is trying to go around South!
Many people gathered at the Southern Pillar, one of the top five favorite landmarks in the world. The most popular was ‘Middle Place’.
The man wore a golden-silver crown of lion fur. A powerful torso, but short arms. His clothing style was clearly pretending to be an official uniform; the colors were wrong, the lengths were wrong. There he stood, at the edge of the world.
He began his attempt by roaring. Then he charged the column, putting an emphasis on his left foot - seeing as he was approaching the column from the left, it was the closest leg to the edge of the world, and his best chance at passing through some sort of gap.
Then the impossible... possibled.
The man ran in such a perfectly straight line along the edge of the world, that he was sliced away like meat in a grinder, along his vertical axis, from the friction of the collision with it*!
*DISCLAIMER: Orientations change at the equator. When North, the edge of the world is the inside of a circle. When South, the edge of the world is the outside of a circle. Therefore, it is not possible to run along the southern pole in a perfectly straight line, except at the precise point were the edge and the column meet.
Now half a person, the Lion Man - let’s call him that, we won’t get his name - gushed in blood and collapsed. Some onlooker attempted to separate him from the edge, but it was as if they were now stuck together. Out of respect for him, nobody played at moving him up and down, which was somehow still possible as long as the contact was maintained. An expert Decompositionalist was called to clear him off. Before that, however, a closer inspection of his clothes made it abundantly clear that, for all the flaws in his style, Lion Man knew which side of the chest carried the official name tag.
Oh! Tragedy! Thou name is transcendence! Thou name is impossible to forget! Impossible to forgive! If only! But! Still! Yet! Evermore!
Something lighter, something sweeter. Let’s ambush these two lovers.
“Hello.”
“Hum.”
“Any particular reason for your embrace to be such that it occurs at this location?”
“... we were just feeling... like it.”
“Oh! I see! The audacious vitality! The effervescent candor of the hopeful, the unbroken! What is your age, to be so young?”
“I have witnessed my birth many steps ago!”
“And so did I!” replied the woman; her interruptions easily dismissed.
“Well, you two look on the younger side of things still! With age comes all manners of problems. You wouldn’t believe. Things break, and they don’t get repaired. Every scar from the past reopens, offering themselves to deep reminiscing. And watch those knees! Always watch those knees. Before long carving them off is going to sound enjoyable!”
“...Th..thanks... thank you.”
“What is your name?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why don’t you know? What a peculiar thing to say!”
“We are leaving now.”
“Finally! Someone going somewhere!”
Ecstasy! Serenity! At long last!
“May I inquire where you are going?”
“Anywhere you won’t follow.*”
DISCLAIMER: They went East.