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Skeletonized.Category: stories and writings and shit
Monday, 28 May 2012
05:32:50 PM (GMT)
My human flesh has melted away, leaving only the bare bones that made up my
frame. My soft tissues have been eaten by bugs, dissolved into the soil. I am the
dead. A skeleton that awakens in the night, defying science and walking among the
land I once owned. I am given energy by moonlight, and my bones are rich with the
things they need to move themselves. I walk during the hours of the night, when the
entire human race is asleep and the world is still. Humans don’t realize there is a
time during the night that is only for the dead. No matter how many pots of coffee
they consume how they believe that it is possible to be awake the entire night. It is
a lie. Between the hours of the night, stuffed in there like a forgotten teddy bear,
a secret dimension is opened. A portal for us lost souls, still lingering along the
planet, too frightened to take the other constantly opened portal which will take us
away from this black and white world. Everything stops.
It is the only safe time for the phantoms and ghouls and vampires and skeletons. The
only time in which we can be sure we won’t be spotted. It is the only time we are
free. We haunt the empty streets, speeding cars stopped in the middle of roads. Time
has paused, reality has dispersed. Nothing is real. A mortal is awake in her bed, the
screen of her laptop glowing softly through the open window. She is crying. She is
not aware that her brain is asleep, her awareness is gone. She will not recall the
moment when time stopped when she is wired on coffee, counting the seconds until she
is released from the educational jail called school and allowed to go home and
I like being a skeleton. I am the very minimum of a human. My soul rattles through my
cage, whistling along my bones and cooling down the world. I am the pure form of an
intelligent being. Humans believe that souls can be souls without holding onto
something in our reality. This is untrue. Without a physical being a soul with float
aimlessly until it finds one, unless it makes its way into the dimension of ghosts,
of souls. It usually gets attached a million times before finally making its way into
the spirit world. My intelligence that used to be held in the depths of my brain was
extracted and consumed by my bones before I died. With my last breath, I willed
myself to hold on to my life, even as my blood drained out of my body. When I was
buried, I willed my bones to pull themselves from my body and find their way out.
That is how I came to be.
I walk through a forest, the souls inside the plants and the animals whispering to
me. They tell me stories of the world. I sit on a rock and listen. I have forever to

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