(Disclaimer: I did not create Lain, etc. I am by no means trying to rip off the storyline. I am just `borrowing' the characters and elements to create my own story. By the way, I know that what happens to Taro did not happen in the series, but since this is my story, well, you know. Enjoy!)
Copyright 2002
Surreal Entities
Chapter One- "Make My Rainy Day"
Smoke filled the air. Several provocative glances shared back and forth, from soul to soul. Dim blue lights flittering from face to face. Unable to focus on any particular one, I feel that time is of the essence. Time is what is going to make me or break me. Music pounding deep within my chest; the bass beat beckoning me to come join the vast multitude of strangers, who were all so foreign to me, yet so very familiar. A smell of sweet perfume floating along the tantric smoke. Incantations being spoken, being whispered from soul to soul, from mind to mind, being to being. Apart from the strange sensations I was receiving from the mind-blowing words of the beat, I could not understand what was happening. Confusion is what makes life interesting, so they say. Confusion is all I was ever used to feeling. Lights flashed back and forth, piercing my thoughts with their soft-spoken glares repeatedly. Blue, red, purple, confusion, green, yellow, white, purity. Creativity.
Blue lights led me to him I believe. Nameless bodies were dancing around me, uncelebrated in their many ideals of life and death. They were yearning for me to join them in their hypnotic heroin-induced bloodshed. Then it hit me. I had dreamt this dream before. Deja-vu. I hated the word. Yet, I wanted it inside me nonetheless, just as I wanted him inside of me. It all suddenly became too surreal, too sensual. Organically and yet somehow, mechanically, I begin to move with the rhythm. The emotion, pounding in my heart, in my ears. Then I hear it, his voice, coming in over the Wired. Flowing through my veins, bleeding into my brain. I will not surrender though he is exactly what I feel that I need. I cannot escape the ghosts that I once recognized so long ago. They plead with me to turn around and backtrack, to come back to them and play their horrid, painful games. Once my friends, now just lost spirits whom I cannot touch any longer. I cannot cry. I will not cry. Weakness is
death in my book.
My name is, Toiqua. Perhaps you have met my cousin, Taro. Really, I am just a scapegoat in the overall scheme of things here. I am nothing. I believe in God and my god is not 'the Wired'. I am a revolutionary in this age of blind acceptance of the evil thread among us that strings us all together in this one big knitted trap of excrement. After Taro died suddenly and violently, I decided that it was time to take action before all was lost. That is when I heard of him. There is nothing that I would not do for him. There is nothing that I would not do to him. When I speak of 'him', I am simply speaking of my obscure fascination, the man who has been fighting the Wired since the beginning of its creation. After running from his past for so long, he eventually became trapped in the interface web of sacred lies that he designed himself. You see he, the creator, became trapped in his creation. We live in this strange world where man versus machine now dominates man versus man,
however, man versus himself will always rule the category. Before the true purpose of his creation was realized, a feeling took hold of him and he knew that someday his game would bring him major success. What he did not know was that it would destroy his peace of mind along the way.
For some reason I had a perverse dedication to this man and an unhealthy obsession for this man. So naturally, when I had heard the news of his disappearance I jumped at the chance to go to him. Though no one else knew where he was, I did. He was in the Wired and it was up to me to find him. Sure, there are many souls who have been trapped in the Wired, but I have not the time to worry for them all. I cannot save, just lead. Amidst all the voices that were shouting out from the Wired, the only one that was calling to me was his.
I had met him in the game shortly after its release into the underground. He was conducting a personal survey, speaking with all of the game players, asking them what they thought of it. I remember the phrase that he kept repeating.
"In the Wired is in the Mind."
He was convinced that if one had any emotional problems or any physical problems, that one could not only abandon them, but also take care of them while in the Wired. I was not able to comprehend this way of thinking, because it seemed to me at the time that running away to the Wired would merely fix the problem temporarily. However, as I began to take part in the Wired and delve deeper and deeper into it, I began to understand that he was not entirely wrong. In fact, I began to spend a majority of my time in the Wired day after day, night after night. I would teach myself how to control my fears and eventually I found myself learning the twists and turns of the paths. Memorizing every scream and every laugh as I ran freely through the mazes that were laid before me. I was truly redeemed I thought, until one night. I remember that I could not fall asleep, so I signed into the Wired. I was peering over the edge of a building and then in the next second falling, within the
next flying... and then finally, landing. I made my way up the dimly lit street as I had done several times before and found my way into the opening. I would run across the grass and come to my one place of sanity. It was near a small pond that withheld all types of magnificent creatures. Normally, I would just skip pebbles over the surface, but on every rare occasion, I would ease myself into the pond and join those magical creatures. Most of these creatures did not even exist in real life, they were just figments of my imagination. We would talk and laugh together, even breathe in the purity of the fresh water together... yes, I could breathe underwater in the Wired. It was almost as if I was involved in some sort of demented Bed Knobs and Broomsticks flick. This night was one of those rare occasions. I walked into the water and began to wade... though something felt different this time... the consistency of the water had changed. Moreover, it was warm, so warm. I lifted
my hand to look and realized that it was not water, but blood. I clumsily clawed my way out of the pond and ran. I ran until I could not run any longer. There was no reason why the water was not pure that night. I do not remember much else except that I awoke in my bed clean and dry, but smelling of death. It was that night that I decided to never sign into the Wired again. Somehow, a switch had been flipped; somehow, a wire had been crossed in my brain. What was once my sanity became my insanity.
I would not let him suffer the same end to a beautiful beginning.
"I will find you sweet one. Among all of these thirsty, starving rats, I promise that I will find you."
I laid in my bed and drifted off to sleep as my heart pounded away in synchronization with the ticking of the clock.
I was ripped out of my peaceful rest as a new day was dawning. I became immersed in one of my many fantasies as I peered out the window at the new birth of the horizon. He was holding me, grasping me with all of his might, speaking to me of things that I dare not repeat. Touching me in places that I dare not mention. I wondered when the day would come that my fantasy became a reality, for we were so far apart from each other. So far apart from our mutual destiny... our manifest destiny if you will. I had to pull myself away from my depressing erotic thoughts, for dwelling in itself was a weak trait as far as I was concerned. I needed him. I had never needed anyone in my life as I needed him. You must think that I am strange. Perhaps a little bit off to the left. Well, I know what you are thinking. "She does not even know him." This is not true. There was more to our collision in the Wired than a mere survey. We spoke of the things to come... when man would no longer need to
speak because his machine spoke for him. How man would no longer need to touch another because of the direction this cursed technology was moving.
At the time, I had no idea that I would ache for him in my dreams over and over. After that lonely night on the Wired where I met my other half, I made a commitment to never be the same again. To never, be like my dreaded family or dreaded friends. I chose to think differently at that point. I left my old life behind and began anew. Ever since then, I truly never have been the same. I sometimes think that it would have been better if I had not met him, because although I would be a brainwashed, civilized, unrealistic void to date, I would not have to bear the weight of observing the things that have gone wrong with society... and I would not have to suffer my constant dreaming of him. My lustful thirst never quite being satisfied. I did not know if my journey would lead me to fall apart in his arms or if it would lead me to taste him, but I did know that I had nothing left to lose.
Copyright 2002
Surreal Entities
Chapter One- "Make My Rainy Day"
Smoke filled the air. Several provocative glances shared back and forth, from soul to soul. Dim blue lights flittering from face to face. Unable to focus on any particular one, I feel that time is of the essence. Time is what is going to make me or break me. Music pounding deep within my chest; the bass beat beckoning me to come join the vast multitude of strangers, who were all so foreign to me, yet so very familiar. A smell of sweet perfume floating along the tantric smoke. Incantations being spoken, being whispered from soul to soul, from mind to mind, being to being. Apart from the strange sensations I was receiving from the mind-blowing words of the beat, I could not understand what was happening. Confusion is what makes life interesting, so they say. Confusion is all I was ever used to feeling. Lights flashed back and forth, piercing my thoughts with their soft-spoken glares repeatedly. Blue, red, purple, confusion, green, yellow, white, purity. Creativity.
Blue lights led me to him I believe. Nameless bodies were dancing around me, uncelebrated in their many ideals of life and death. They were yearning for me to join them in their hypnotic heroin-induced bloodshed. Then it hit me. I had dreamt this dream before. Deja-vu. I hated the word. Yet, I wanted it inside me nonetheless, just as I wanted him inside of me. It all suddenly became too surreal, too sensual. Organically and yet somehow, mechanically, I begin to move with the rhythm. The emotion, pounding in my heart, in my ears. Then I hear it, his voice, coming in over the Wired. Flowing through my veins, bleeding into my brain. I will not surrender though he is exactly what I feel that I need. I cannot escape the ghosts that I once recognized so long ago. They plead with me to turn around and backtrack, to come back to them and play their horrid, painful games. Once my friends, now just lost spirits whom I cannot touch any longer. I cannot cry. I will not cry. Weakness is
death in my book.
My name is, Toiqua. Perhaps you have met my cousin, Taro. Really, I am just a scapegoat in the overall scheme of things here. I am nothing. I believe in God and my god is not 'the Wired'. I am a revolutionary in this age of blind acceptance of the evil thread among us that strings us all together in this one big knitted trap of excrement. After Taro died suddenly and violently, I decided that it was time to take action before all was lost. That is when I heard of him. There is nothing that I would not do for him. There is nothing that I would not do to him. When I speak of 'him', I am simply speaking of my obscure fascination, the man who has been fighting the Wired since the beginning of its creation. After running from his past for so long, he eventually became trapped in the interface web of sacred lies that he designed himself. You see he, the creator, became trapped in his creation. We live in this strange world where man versus machine now dominates man versus man,
however, man versus himself will always rule the category. Before the true purpose of his creation was realized, a feeling took hold of him and he knew that someday his game would bring him major success. What he did not know was that it would destroy his peace of mind along the way.
For some reason I had a perverse dedication to this man and an unhealthy obsession for this man. So naturally, when I had heard the news of his disappearance I jumped at the chance to go to him. Though no one else knew where he was, I did. He was in the Wired and it was up to me to find him. Sure, there are many souls who have been trapped in the Wired, but I have not the time to worry for them all. I cannot save, just lead. Amidst all the voices that were shouting out from the Wired, the only one that was calling to me was his.
I had met him in the game shortly after its release into the underground. He was conducting a personal survey, speaking with all of the game players, asking them what they thought of it. I remember the phrase that he kept repeating.
"In the Wired is in the Mind."
He was convinced that if one had any emotional problems or any physical problems, that one could not only abandon them, but also take care of them while in the Wired. I was not able to comprehend this way of thinking, because it seemed to me at the time that running away to the Wired would merely fix the problem temporarily. However, as I began to take part in the Wired and delve deeper and deeper into it, I began to understand that he was not entirely wrong. In fact, I began to spend a majority of my time in the Wired day after day, night after night. I would teach myself how to control my fears and eventually I found myself learning the twists and turns of the paths. Memorizing every scream and every laugh as I ran freely through the mazes that were laid before me. I was truly redeemed I thought, until one night. I remember that I could not fall asleep, so I signed into the Wired. I was peering over the edge of a building and then in the next second falling, within the
next flying... and then finally, landing. I made my way up the dimly lit street as I had done several times before and found my way into the opening. I would run across the grass and come to my one place of sanity. It was near a small pond that withheld all types of magnificent creatures. Normally, I would just skip pebbles over the surface, but on every rare occasion, I would ease myself into the pond and join those magical creatures. Most of these creatures did not even exist in real life, they were just figments of my imagination. We would talk and laugh together, even breathe in the purity of the fresh water together... yes, I could breathe underwater in the Wired. It was almost as if I was involved in some sort of demented Bed Knobs and Broomsticks flick. This night was one of those rare occasions. I walked into the water and began to wade... though something felt different this time... the consistency of the water had changed. Moreover, it was warm, so warm. I lifted
my hand to look and realized that it was not water, but blood. I clumsily clawed my way out of the pond and ran. I ran until I could not run any longer. There was no reason why the water was not pure that night. I do not remember much else except that I awoke in my bed clean and dry, but smelling of death. It was that night that I decided to never sign into the Wired again. Somehow, a switch had been flipped; somehow, a wire had been crossed in my brain. What was once my sanity became my insanity.
I would not let him suffer the same end to a beautiful beginning.
"I will find you sweet one. Among all of these thirsty, starving rats, I promise that I will find you."
I laid in my bed and drifted off to sleep as my heart pounded away in synchronization with the ticking of the clock.
I was ripped out of my peaceful rest as a new day was dawning. I became immersed in one of my many fantasies as I peered out the window at the new birth of the horizon. He was holding me, grasping me with all of his might, speaking to me of things that I dare not repeat. Touching me in places that I dare not mention. I wondered when the day would come that my fantasy became a reality, for we were so far apart from each other. So far apart from our mutual destiny... our manifest destiny if you will. I had to pull myself away from my depressing erotic thoughts, for dwelling in itself was a weak trait as far as I was concerned. I needed him. I had never needed anyone in my life as I needed him. You must think that I am strange. Perhaps a little bit off to the left. Well, I know what you are thinking. "She does not even know him." This is not true. There was more to our collision in the Wired than a mere survey. We spoke of the things to come... when man would no longer need to
speak because his machine spoke for him. How man would no longer need to touch another because of the direction this cursed technology was moving.
At the time, I had no idea that I would ache for him in my dreams over and over. After that lonely night on the Wired where I met my other half, I made a commitment to never be the same again. To never, be like my dreaded family or dreaded friends. I chose to think differently at that point. I left my old life behind and began anew. Ever since then, I truly never have been the same. I sometimes think that it would have been better if I had not met him, because although I would be a brainwashed, civilized, unrealistic void to date, I would not have to bear the weight of observing the things that have gone wrong with society... and I would not have to suffer my constant dreaming of him. My lustful thirst never quite being satisfied. I did not know if my journey would lead me to fall apart in his arms or if it would lead me to taste him, but I did know that I had nothing left to lose.