Category: Artha

6 – The Train Naps

Daisy was out, then she arose. She could feel the left side of her neck, bent out of shape and sore from sleeping on it bent. And the train was still moving across moist carpeted land or moss coloured greenery, however you wanted to see it. The trees, they looked like LEGO pieces. She didn’t quite understand when she transitioned back, but she was glad to be here, smelling the faint stink of a ham and cheese biscuit.

You don’t actually want to see the workings of Elevententeen. What’s behind it is extremely frightening. The framework is made up of spider-like grids, when you see it, they move and pulse like a living thing. Daisy shuddered at the mere thought of it. She quickly patted her yellow eyelet dress to ensure it was still in existence. Another way to halt the screams (screams occur when your brain computes the framework) was to enter Elevententeen with a very specific wardrobe, preferably containing bold colours, pattern and texture.

Sighing, Daisy remembered what it was like in social media school learning about plain stuff. Graphic art and design attributes were existential now, they served no purpose. People only wanted multi-dimensional graphics, that breathed and pulsed and held meaning. I guess altering genetics in 2019 completely erased the human need for new things and surprisingly, technology. It no longer occurred. It was too fickle and rambunctious; nobody cared. It was now about Artha, Manipura and finding pure bling that could get you back through the framework unnoticed.

There were no humans on the train today, only empty seats and a refined beaver quietly sipping Earl Grey. “Well, he looks…dry…and  relaxed…so he must have come from the land.” The beaver heard and adjusted his frames while cocking his head North East. He wanted to see if he could grab the newspaper from thin air instead of having to hold it in his hands. Paper was so archaic, he thought. Daisy wasn’t sure if he noticed her. Her heart skipped a beat and she stopped for a moment memory, as he again adjusted himself out of what looked like discomfort. Inhaling a deep breath, they both fell deeply asleep. The reflection on the mirror was blank. Someone had switched time and space, again. What was going to happen?

Gadgets

A digital object is checking gadgets. Tiny beads and shards. Daisy felt fuzzy and warm. Life Space smelled like a contradiction. Did you see it? Wait! Come back! You didn’t even ask! Daisy runs past in a fluff. Ugh, what is this stuff?1704E55B-54C3-4A4A-A095-F94906EA87D0

Snippets

Pink plastic covered their heads. Depending on the nature of their state, faces could also be erased. The way back to Being was a way to Manipura. And if one could count, it would be to Artha. To be found: Sunny, Bright, Elevententeen.

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3 – A Day

“Dude, I’m not coming up yet.”, “I’m not ready.”

Daisy was so frustrated. Why did he have to control her like that? Why was he in charge and not her? The green tag of her Champion jumper rubbed the back of her neck and she irritatedly scratched, like a black spider would trying to climb a slippery tent. From here on out, she was done being told what to do. “I am going to succeed, if it’s the last thing I’m capable of, dangit, I WILL!” She expired her smoke, while tiny violet pills leapt off her dress making their way down onto pillows marking the street. Today there were no jewels or yams protruding from the earth. Wait, what? Where…am…I? Daisy slapped her forehead feeling silly and stern. “I thought the map was taking me through that way…hmm…I am going to have to reconfigure.” She stuck her finger down her throat to feel the recess between her clavicle and sternum. The bump was still there, and it felt mightier than before. With a giant sigh of relief, Daisy whipped her hand out and quickly rubbed her brow of the pink and yellow sweat trickling downward toward the edge of her puffy orange UVC (never reaches the earth) slippers. The colours were debating with the sunset, arguing in agreeance with this theory: Can we reproduce smells using sight? If only I could see my thoughts, Chona thinks.

“Is it still not working yet or?”, “No.”

Okay, well then…let me think. I have zero capability of calculating the difference between time and space using true visuality AND I have thus far only found value in doing nothing. Everything was trying to pinpoint the exact ‘moment memory’ Chona experienced most frequently while driving. Today, June 24, 2019, she smelled/saw the winter time, the time around Halloween and a few other things. But they came and went so fast, she couldn’t ascertain every detail in time to truly discern the event. And, she most definitely could not determine how in the hell this was working and how she would even begin to explain it. Everything was creating. Everything was putting it together. Everything was adding it up.

Daisy’s mind went blank. She sat solemnly in the imitation art chair wearing a torn out neon pink giant Cotton Ginny t-shirt, and appropriate underwear of course. “To shower or not to shower, that is the key,” she thought. Her boss quipped, “To remember everyone! Cucumber! Coffee! And, no sex please!”

According to the Kama Sutra, a person with the principles of this science, who preserves his virtue, his Artha and his pleasure, will obtain the mastery of Each Other.

“Daisy, are you listening?”, “Yes.”

Seventeen always looked like that, predisposed to sleep, knowing she needed time for rest. Chona Fe yawns and gives up for a bit, then hands the paper over to Alice. She bites into it like a rabid snail, because snails are like tricky people. Alice goes back into hiding and the teen just shrugs again. The adventures have now begun, but where will they take us? Because in this moment, none of this makes sense, right? And, do you truly think it will be a thing? A real, true, regular, normal way of being? Chona thinks, “Probably yes. But, I dunno! I just have to try and will probably die doing it!”

Daisy was listening, darting her eyes toward the light. Alice puffed some letter s’s in the same general direction. Can we begin to read it now, the way to it should read?