Kharmic GooGoo

A brief moment, a thought, a connection to something that was promised to be gone and your chance at redemption vanishes.

Feel it?

Good.

You now know you came from another place, a when.

With this sudden intrusion, the warm post-birth glow you were feeling should be fading and you’ll note the arms of your mother around you loosening as if you are a heavy burden.

I would say loving but she is currently having second thoughts.

Was that a cold shiver racing up your spine?

Oh, just the beginning of a tantrum.

Scream all you want, but you can see the reality, can’t you?

Many, millions, all dead, all murdered, does that help?

Remember the cold mud-soaked ground. The splinters that could have trees or pieces of fence. The dying all around. Everywhere. The dead lay in such vast numbers they make hills and valleys while they lay under the land that promised them more, but only gave them bloodshed.

I know, I know, this is all jolting.

I have stirred you from your new reality and cruelly so because you don’t even know your connection to this apocalypse, maybe you ordered it, maybe you pulled a trigger or a lever, maybe you are a victim of metaphysical slander.

But something from this other time clings to your soul, doesn’t it? Something greasy and hungry.

Oh, here comes my favorite part when the love on your new mother’s face sours as if she realizes you are something vile.

Like something just broke in her, something needed in the loving and caring for you.

She will never get why it died in her, but she’ll hate you now and forever.

And just as quickly as the fabric between the realities opened I will close them and time will fade away sowing the first rail of anxiety for your body to enjoy and be addicted to till death.

But before I leave, do you want to ask why I’m telling you all this?

Well, it’s simple really.

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