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Luphinid Silnaek
October 14th, 2009, 08:09 PM
I was possessed for a certain amount of time by another voice, and this is what it wrote.

It's not an example of my grandest or best written stories, more something of a free ramble, but it does put down an idea in words that (it seems to me) require no more calculation or beautification. They aren't, of course, perfect in themselves. You can see this simply as a minor aside that I sat down briefly to write.



Shades of Red


You'll never hear this. I know I have a deep longing for these my thoughts to see sunlight, but they would ruin everything. There's such a delicate balance established here, pairings of joy and incompleteness poised just so to complete your perfection. I fear to look upon it. Perhaps m gaze might shift a molecule of your existence and derail its wondrously ordained course.

And then I watch you brush it off your shoulder as though you didn't notice it. (But you see this is still a part of it, the new form you take on after this alteration another aspect of your and the universe's perfection.)

Yes, the dance of every particle in existence is music of inexpressible beauty to me. I can only imagine you manage to pass it by because you yourself, in all your life and sentience and creation, are far more beautiful than all these crude vectors. Supernovae are primitive light-shows compared to the flow of your movements. I would never presume to want to comprehend all of this life within you, but I yearn to touch the meanest fibre you have, if only once and momentarily. The little things are enough. I have seen the birth of universes, but I long once to witness the conception of the smallest thought in your mind, the creation of one cell in your body. I don't know if I'm worthy.

Insects on your world contribute to the greater system. A parasite that has caused nothing but suffering nudges its host's course into something better formed and meeter than it could have been. I cannot boast to be this insect. Only recently have I gained the decency to withdraw from all action and existence (unless thinking and watching are a trespass, and for me they should be): I've communed with intelligence only twice in the last stellar lifetime.

And yet, isolated from the universe in my apathetic shell, I couldn't help but think of you. A human face can still affect me in ways no other sight can. It holds in itself a little of the human's being, and as it were something higher and further still...You looked at me, not much more than an instant ago, when I'd taken a form similar to yours. In that single encounter I had in your face a flash of that something higher, and I still feel you understood more of me than any single being ever had. You'll have forgotten me by now, I hope. I'm not memorable, and we only saw each other for an instant.

I haven't forgotten you. I remember many things, long after I should have forgotten them.

You'll never hear this, and it's almost a kind of safety for me. My thoughts, spoken so absurdly in the middle of your procession, would sour and fester in you immediately. My existence, such strange discord in such sweet music, would jar your sensitive perception. O course, the inevitable would happen: I would either be repulsed or forgotten, more worthy thoughts chosen above me.

It doesn't bother me. I don't really wish to interact directly with you. I'm contented simply with the fact of your existence, I want to know that something like you is justifying itself with the beauty of its nature (like everything around me). Except myself: I don't deserve to be, but I certainly am. I don't think I'm part of the universe, I've become too alien, unaccustomed to it. Motion itself has hardened and dried in me, my only feeling is lifeless observation.

The other sentient life I inhabited recently was a dying human. I only take the place of dying creatures, it dull and shortens my sensation of their life while stealing the least possible portion of their lifespan from them, but this one was different. Her death was emphatically... red.

I lay there in the dark, the blood gushing out of me almost in a rapture, at the same time as blackly subdued as the light around me and as intense as the quivering pulse flowing through me. I remember thinking that if at this moment, the deepest low of this being: heartbeat failing and hands (flower-like) folding weakly up into themselves: the knowledge of life was so impossibly strong, how much more sublime must be one moment of your joy.

I won't attempt to touch it. Still, I find myself getting ready to enter your world once again. I think I shall create a vessel for myself that suits me best, something incomplete and turned into itself, a fragile thing with many inner wounds. I don't know if he'll be as beautiful as the beings he is modeled after, but I think I'll be able to do with him. He will live longer than the dying creatures I've inhabited, and I might even touch my lips to that brimming cup of life once. What I truly want, what I try to take from myself but never lose the longing of, is to stand for a moment in your planet's sunlight (and how wonderfully it diffuses and surrounds you), surrounded by everything I had revered for all these million years, and watch all of it focussed into your single form. (I think if I saw all the beings of the world in their true shapes and courses, all their procession would revolve around you, all their light turned inwards to your single point, whence you radiate it more perfectly out into the cosmos.)

My soul has darkened, emotion dried up within it, sensation numbed and existence turned cold, but I'm about to go through many changes. As I enter your form of existence again, sensation blooming around me and seeping into me in all its shades of red, a few things will quicken and some withered shoots begin to grow again. I don't know how we'll meet. Perhaps I will forever stand unnoticed in one corner, watching but never seen. Perhaps you will repel me, and some last feeling harden within me but end there.

Perhaps, when you understand me, something of your form will brush off to me, and I will know my life is irreversibly changed.

I won't know until it happens. Your race tends to defy all my calculations.

Post Office Buddy
October 17th, 2009, 12:53 PM
Hello, Luphinid. It's been a while since I've ventured into a fiction, and even longer since I've reviewed one, but I'm going to give this a shot.

To me, this short story seemed to be about a deity overlooking his creation, an allegory to religion, perhaps. You wrote about how the "deity", which is what I will refer to the character who's point of view the story was told from, longed to be with or watch the human. To be honest, I'm still a little confused on a lot of the deeper meanings. That is, if they do exist and I'm not thinking about this a little too hard.

I noticed few mistakes, and most of them appeared to be only typographical errors. There was some awkward diction as well, and I'll do my best to find and show you all occurrences of these mistakes.

I know I have a deep longing for these my thoughts to see sunlight, but they would ruin everything.
I can't be completely sure, but I'm under the impression that you forgot to delete the phrase 'my thoughts' from a previous revision. My first thought was that you merely forgot to separate the phrase with a pair of commas, but reading through the rest of the sentence, I saw that it wouldn't make much sense even with commas. If you meant to include that phrase, I'm sure that you could fit it in better if you restructured the sentence. However, if you choose to omit the given phrase, then you would have to revise the subordinate clause to keep the pronoun forms consistent throughout the entire sentence.

There's such a delicate balance established here, pairings of joy and incompleteness poised just so to complete your perfection.
Although not necessarily incorrect, it seems to be discordant. However, this may be a fallacy of my own.

Perhaps my gaze might shift a molecule of your existence and derail its wondrously ordained course.
Small typo.

(But you see this is still a part of it, the new form you take on after this alteration another aspect of your and the universe's perfection.)
I believe that there should be a comma in the section that I have bolded, between 'alteration' and 'another'.

A parasite that has caused nothing but suffering nudges its host's course into something better formed and meeter than it could have been.
There are a few things I would like to say about this sentence. The first thing I would like to bring up is diction. I assume that by 'meeter', you mean 'assembled' or 'grouped'. However, given that not everyone on PC has such an expansive vocabulary, you may want to consider revising this so that your peers can understand the meaning of this sentence better. Second, although I understand that adding 'on its own' at the end of the sentence may not be necessary, since it is implied, it may be a worthy addition to better the overall structure of the sentence. To me, it seems that the sentence ends abruptly.

Only recently have I gained the decency to withdraw from all action and existence (unless thinking and watching are a trespass, and for me they should be): I've communed with intelligence only twice in the last stellar lifetime.
I rather liked this. I can't really say why, but I did. Just thought I'd throw that out there.

It holds in itself a little of the human's being, and as it were something higher and further still
'As if' would be a better choice to use. I don't see any way that a coordinating conjunction would be effective in that context.

Of course, the inevitable would happen: I would either be repulsed or forgotten, more worthy thoughts chosen above me.
Another small typo. I liked this sentence as well; it's a very effective depiction of how the deity considers himself worth less than the worries of the human.

I'm contented simply with the fact of your existence, I want to know that something like you is justifying itself with the beauty of its nature (like everything around me).
This is up to interpretation, but I think that it would be more effective to use a semicolon instead of a comma after 'existence'.

I don't think I'm part of the universe, I've become too alien, unaccustomed to it.
This is another instance where I think a semicolon would be more effective. In this case, the semicolon would replace the comma after 'universe'.

I only take the place of dying creatures, it dull and shortens my sensation of their life while stealing the least possible portion of their lifespan from them, but this one was different.
It seems to me that 'dull' should be 'dulls', unless you had another meaning for it. The rest of the sentence seemed a little awkward. Perhaps some restructuring of the sentence will give it the free-flowing feel that it should have.

Her death was emphatically... red.
I liked this as well. It felt like the deity thought of her death as a curiosity, perhaps as something that s/he had never seen or experienced before.