The Viscount Of Gea Cushamen

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Pablo Edronkin

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Lord Dunsany was right and so I did the same as he did once, only that I stayed in the realm of dreams of Cushamen and nothing else; this is my true, earthly dominion, you know, for I am the Viscount of Gea Cushamen, the keeper of the land of the mountains.

After so many nights spent there I can say with certainty that this whole physical reality is so sickening that it is no wonder that many of the few that learn the rites for dream walking prefer not to return to their bodies and stay on the other side where God and his ideas about the laws of the universe are kept at bay, fortunately.

And speaking of practical jokes, the God that we define as ours, the author of this universe - of indeed, there are many more being written and rewritten in what I could best describe as a fractal library of proportions so tiny and so big at the same time that no mind could fathom while at least in this reality, using the senses prescribed by the novel. So, as I was saying, this God of ours likes practical jokes and his universe - his book - is exactly that, some sort of collection of jokes which are the lives of millions upon millions of beings poisoned with time and space in this reality, the scenario where the joker makes the jokes for beings of impossible existences can comment in gatherings quite unlike those that we can imagine.

Ours is a sick world because it is in a sick universe written by a sick God, believe me, I have seen him because while I cannot explain why I stay only within the dominion of Cushamen in physical terms as I sleep, I can wander about every little cranny in other dimensions such as odds, gravity, time and then some. God can be found, and you can even shake hands with him but probably wouldn't like it, at a certain number of dimensions which I will not reveal now but later for a very simple reason and that is the price you will have to pay: By finally meeting your creator you will lose all hope, which will be passed to the keeper of the secret that has shown you the way, and thus he, she or it will regain its freedom. It is hope that is used as fuel to keep this reality going; it is being burned down in a way so deep that only the perspective of a true souls floating in true void could contemplate with all possible senses.

Since almost the time in which angles and curves where the same some beings have been entrusted with certain duties apparently designed to keep the structure of the story going on. The devices they take care of may vary and I don not know much about them but to be sure, I do know about mine.

Some of those keepers show the way - they call them angels, sometimes - just because they want to recover their hope and in that capacity, die in peace at last. Others just want to fool around while yet others just seem to rehearse the practical jokes of their master. In other societies they receive the names of various gods and so we have Baal and the Pachamama.

I am the keeper now that has to give you the choice of either going back to the awaken state or remaining here, in Cushamen, where we have a labyrinth. That is what the keeper of the land of the mountain does. Inside it, if you can enter, you will find the way into the dimensions where God can be seen for real, and so you will become the next Viscount for as much time as it will take you to find yet another visitor; you may have to wait until the planet becomes dust and is reborn, and life starts all over again, but for the rest of the common people, it may seen just a few hours, or days, or years, perhaps even the blink of and eye; the thing will exist only within you, in your dreams, and you will learn all that is to be learned.

Sometimes you will be just sitting at the table of your home while your little tyrant children that you are raising keep making guttural noises, and you will look out of the window. The inevitable blink that will come, instead of transporting you back to the scene, will first take your soul thorough a walk of the universe; impressive indeed, but it will happen anytime, repeatedly, until you will gather the knowledge of every stone in every planet in every star system. You will learn what being trapped by knowledge means; all that there is, was and will be will be pressed inside your head.

So, my dear pilgrim, the time has come for you to make your choice.

I cannot comment on any option so that it remains entirely yours but let me say what I have been saying everyone now for twenty of your years and twenty eternities for my time: The only hope I have is that when my physical body dies I will go dreaming somewhere else with the polite, lesser Gods that Lord Dunsany kept talking about in his trips thorough the rivers in the land of dreams. Those before me never gave you any advice and for the most, only talked when they made a question so don't think that I am trying to teach how to live your life.

So now choose: Do you want to be wise or happy?



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