Into the Ether (1)

Even though they both knew it, neither wanted to admit it: nothing would ever be the same. A metaphysical door had been opened inside each of their hearts. No matter how much time they spent in one another's embrace, days weeks months, the gnawing realization of their finite time together kept both of them from ever wholly embodying comfort. There was little that could be done except to cherish each & every fleeting moment. In his arms she felt accepted & desired, in hers he felt safe & at home.

They were grateful. In an ever expanding cosmos, with an infinite number of realities contained within an unfathomable number of non linear timelines, they managed to find each other. & though the next incarnation where they connect could be millennia upon millennia from this moment, neither cared — they were here now & they both knew the other would endure 12 sextillion lifetimes of misery & sorrow to hold them once more, if just for a single moment.

This was an attraction that transcended all of time, space, even creation itself; a tale so ancient it escapes egocentric human comprehension. They were the very embodiment of twin flames that men & women have spent such a great deal of time trying to emulate amongst themselves, the type of love that all who know of it pray to live up to. A love so true, so unique & unfounded, that one would risk anything, even Elysium itself, simply to find it once more. They were more than lovers, more than partners with intertwined souls — they were love & lust incarnate...

“No more will trivialities like resentment & anger stifle society’s progress” said the odd man into His mirror, practicing their speech. Cheeks red & chest puffed, trying to overly enunciate His consonants to come across as more stern & confident; he failed. “We must unite not under compassion & empathy, but in the understanding that to do otherwise would be to damn our species to a fate of perpetual destruction.”

That last line always made the back of his neck tingle with chills, they'd spent hours trying to get the wording down PERFECT. It was the setup for His punchline, their calm before the storm.

“How long will we be a slave race damned to fall victim to our meaningless emotions? Damn them all. We did not rise to the rank of apex predators, pass through every great filter existence has placed before us, just to crash & burn due to chemical signals our brains refuse to disenfranchise from” His penis begins bulging in His underwear, the energy around him reeking of pure adrenaline & masculinity. The council would be eating from the palm of their hand at this point, scarfing down each syllable that escaped his tongue & hungry for more. This was His vision, His life's work. He could finally be rid of all the things He hated in others & in himself.

He dreamed of ushering in an era of man where human emotions were all but a forgotten relic of the past, akin to social media & cellular telephones. This was his opum magnus, this would be the very thing people of the New World would remember Leonard N. Palmer for. This was why He was here — to put an end to wasteful exertions of energy via emotion driven impulsivity. To optimize the finite human experience to it's greatest potential.

Memories of fists crashing onto His round & squishy nose, the rejection of all His peers from childhood up until now, all played on repeat in his mirror’s eye. He shook his head to try & erase the images from his mind, ground Himself in his percieved reality, but only managed to fling sweat onto the mirror & bathroom sink. He tugs on his shirt collar in hopes of cooling himself off. In doing so he reveals the scar along His throat in the mirror's reflection, which inadvertently makes the sweat drip down his face with greater vigor.

Leonard tries to speak but only produces incoherent mumbles vaguely reminiscent of human speech. He instinctively lowers his head to wipe away the sweat pooling on his forehead with the back of his hand. He recoils, mortified, upon feeling just how damp his hands & face are. Panic ensues following this & he begins sucking down air in irregular breathes.

Finally unable to bear the fool in the mirror, Leonard lets loose a guttural “FUCK!” & brings His hands down hard onto the bathroom sink, ripping it slightly from its wall fixture. “Goddammit…” he says in an exasperated whimper. "Goddammit."

Tears well up as he stares into the eyes of failure via His reflection. “Yes. Things would be much better without those pesky emotions indeed.”