💾 Archived View for clemat.is › saccophore › library › ezines › textfiles › ezines › Y0LK › y0lk-115… captured on 2022-01-08 at 17:44:22.
⬅️ Previous capture (2021-12-05)
-=-=-=-=-=-=-
--(y0lk)---------------------------------------------------------------------
y0lk #115: "godlike", by pretentious angst queen kreid
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was somewhere around 3:00 AM in Leonard's driveway. A long, hot,
and generally uninteresting August day was concluding with a warm early
August night. Leonard was not quite sure what day it was, since he had been
unemployed and unattached to life all through the summer, but it felt like
somewhere around Wednesday. The passing of days had become completely
irrelevant, anyway. The only reason Leonard thought of time at all was
because he dreaded the daytime so much that he would watch the clock and wait
for the sun to come down every day, eager each time to plunge himself into
the night. The deep hours of nighttime were all that he lived for during that
lonely summer, after everyone in town had gone to sleep. And at 3:00 AM in the
boring suburb in which Leonard lived, the phones didn�t ring, the televisions
were all off, and there were no lights to burst out of any of his neighbors'
windows. It was the only time when Leonard would leave his house, and only
then to lie alone in his driveway.
Leonard had been left alone in life, completely abandoned by everyone
he knew. His parents had died, leaving him at his young age of nineteen with
their home and all their money and responsibility. He was an only child and
his parents did not have many friends, but there were a few people who tried
to bring him a little comfort at the funeral and for a few days afterwards.
But it didn't last long. Nobody really cared much for Leonard, mostly because
he hated to be cared for. He loved being alone. He didn�t want a family. He
didn't even mind when his friends abandoned him to go away to all their
colleges. Leonard believed he was born to be alone, and to die lonely.
Leonard, alone, had a very calm look on his face as he lay on that
warm driveway, wearing only his old jeans. He looked up at the stars, which
were always beautiful to him, although boring. He fixed his eyes on one of
those stars and stared at it for as long as he could, wondering (but not
really caring) what it was like on the other side of the galaxy. He figured
it was probably just as boring as it was on Earth, but it might be nice to
visit one day, like his parents used to visit poorer nations in the
summertime. They would go away for a week, and then come back and talk about
it and laugh, knowing that as rich Americans living in the suburbs, they
would never have to suffer like the natives of those poorer countries. They
would always have indoor plumbing and central air conditioning in the good old
United States of America.
Leonard knew better than that, of course. He knew life was shit for
anyone who could see past all the distractions that people found. Television,
conversation, masturbation, was all just bullshit, and unfortunately, Leonard
wouldn't fall for it. It was because of Leonard�s inability to be distracted
that his life was so unfulfilling. He had considered suicide but decided it
would not be fair to take nature into his own hands� he felt that killing
himself would violate the natural order of things, and if there was anything
Leonard respected, it was nature. Leonard could not kill himself, he decided,
but he always hoped for some tragedy. When he drove, he drove fast and
carelessly, hoping to find himself someday in a fatal car accident.
Leonard was contemplating the flawless beauty of nature and the
flawless stench of mankind, staring at that one star. He noticed a slight
pulsation in the star and imagined someone on the other side of the galaxy
was trying to communicate with him. It seemed very illogical, but after
staring intently at that star for a while, it really seemed to Leonard that
for some reason, something out there was trying to say something to him.
Could it be that something of some relevance was happening to Leonard on that
late August night?
No, thought Leonard, that's bullshit. Optimistic quasi-scientific
bullshit. Life is shit, I've figured out that much. That is the natural order
of things. Being chosen for an alien communication would violate that order,
wouldn't it?
Yes, it would. Leonard turned his head and closed his eyes. He
distracted himself with other thoughts so as to forget about the pulsating
star. But seconds later, Leonard saw intense flashing light through his
closed eyelids. He opened his eyes and saw that his driveway and the
surrounding neighborhood was bathing in this intense light, pulsating.
Leonard looked up at the star and saw it filling the entire night sky with
its radiance. The rest of the stars seemed to be melting into nothingness,
their presence shattered by the countenance of the one great star, which
seemed to be calling out directly to Leonard. He knew, somehow, by looking at
that star that this spectacle was meant for him, and something even bigger
was about to happen which would change his life.
Leonard heard a voice in his head, in a tone that was completely
inhuman and indescribable. It was calling to him. Leonard, you have been
chosen. You are welcomed into our home, to live for eternity in a state of
godlike bliss. When you wake tomorrow, you will be with us, blessed and
omnipotent. Your every wish has been granted.
A long, empty silence followed. Tears started to come to Leonard's
eyes. The star had stopped blinking, and everything had returned to normal,
but Leonard was absolutely sure what happened just then was real. When he
woke up tomorrow, he would be a god. Tears violently poured out of his eyes
and rolled down his neck and onto his bare chest. And he spoke, he shouted,
for the first time in several lonely weeks: "God damn it!" He frowned sickly
and clenched his teeth as if he were in excruciating pain. He probably woke
up several neighbors with the volume and pain in his brief, violent cry. But
that's all he had to say. God damn it.
Leonard cried a little more, but quickly calmed himself down. There
was no reason to cry. Something had changed, that�s all. This was not what he
expected, and things would have to be done to adjust. Leonard walked slowly,
quietly, as if leaving a funeral, back into his house and then into his
kitchen. And with the quickness and efficiency of an assassin, he grabbed the
largest knife in his parents' old kitchen knife set, and drove it fiercely
into his heart. Leonard's eyes bulged with pain and shock, and his knees
buckled. He fell backwards, hitting the linoleum kitchen floor beneath him
with a heavy, dull noise. And he lay there, still clutching the knife with
both hands, peacefully, for the few remaining seconds of his life. Blood
poured out onto the floor around him, and he closed his eyes, wishing only
that he could have died with more dignity. He never wanted to commit suicide,
but what other choice did he have? His faith had been shattered that night.
And now he was what he had always desired to be: a worthless slab of flesh,
blood spilled all around him like wine on a cheap linoleum floor. Life, for
once, had meant something for Leonard. And he died with the most empowering
knowledge that he had ever possessed: it was all over. Now he was truly
godlike.