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This is a short story I wrote back in 2020. If you like reading traditional stuff, you won't find that here. Also, if you're Christian maybe don't read this.


Now You Know, Now You Don't

The effect took hold, realities merge.

The constant sense of worry had mesmerized Jon. Worry about the future, about wasting time, about becoming what he did not want to be, a sleep walker.
Staring into the screen of his laptop, he typed in the words for his own made-up magick ritual. A character doing this, saying that, a change of scenery.
Writing stories had become his favourite ritual for changing the world, but in a ever changing world with multiple forces trying their hand at full control, he had to keep up, or the sleep would consume him.
Lights off, the story had his full attention. He didn't notice it, but the time read, 3:33 AM, and his battery level was at 33 percent.

Having the world be represented in the stories he wrote, he transmuted the energies that are all around, knowing what he did for himself, he did for the world because All is One, but he had a belief there were those that were still asleep to their own power and asleep to the powers that tried to keep them sleeping. Sleep walkers, he called them, and he believed these sleep walkers were energetic batteries that powered the current evil in the world, unknowingly a sleep walker himself.
He worked hard, digging deep into his mind to rip out the roots of old trees and planted new seeds. He spent time disciplining his heart and mind to disconnect from the old ways of feeding into the nonsense of the collective consciousness, but the worry still lingered within him.
From where this worry came from, he did not care, he just wanted it gone. He did not see the errors of his thinking, nor did he want to admit his own beliefs were the problem.
So he wrote with the intentions of changing the world instead of how he saw the world.
Controlled by a soul-draining program, comforted by depressing energies since its installation, he saw the world just as he saw himself, trapped in meaninglessness and limitation, and expiration. Nothing could be further from the truth. The mission he was on, was already done, because the mission never did exist. Nothing about his world was wrong, or right. It was whatever he said it was.
But, he went on writing, creating problems where there were none.
Soon it would backfire in ways he could never foresee.
Not giving a fuck about others preferences, Jon decided for them, and finished his story on a happy note. With the intent of subconsciously changing the minds of the collective whether they read his work or not, he knew what he did could not be undone.
Some of the wonders of life like how little he actually knew about the true nature of reality, and how fluid the reconstruction and destruction of the world every day and night was, presented themselves in Jon's mind.
A sign that what he had done had changed his world came in the form of an email from a local pizza shop with the header that read, "It is done! Renovations are complete and to celebrate we're offering a 6.99 one topping extra large pizza pie!"
Jon nodded as he closed his laptop and went to sleep.

Months passed and nothing happened, but things were moving behind the scenes, then worldwide catastrophes after catastrophes occurred. The world seemed more divided and hateful than ever, but Jon did his best to remain faithful to his unseen reality of peace.

Jesus Christ, in an epic time-traveling interdimensional war against other divine forces over gaining more fields of human minds, felt inspired to focus in on a particular timeline of earth, in which he never became human, but his magick from the other timeline in which he did, still had a deep effect.
What is this? Jesus, formless in the fourth dimension, thought. He looked at the future of the timeline. A blind god caught in the trap of good verse evil? If it keeps down this path, its suffering will lead it to becoming free from the fields. Jesus sent a thought form into Jon's mind.

Jon, meditating in the middle of his living room, recieved a thought he could not just observe, the little-i program had to engage.
What if I what I did was wrong? Maybe I shouldn't have tried to control other people into becoming peaceful while believing they weren't already peaceful and loving. Maybe I fucked up big time. Maybe that's why the world is in the current shape it is. It didn't get better, it got worst. Fucking hell. I didn't even install a bail out option in the ritual. I thought I didn't need it. I wasn't doing black magick. I wasn't trying to hurt anyone!....Time for another ritual.

Jon stood up and quickly bowed four times, asking the four directions to be his witnesses and sat back down, going within into other worlds, grounding himself in them, walking his path. He chanted the names of Angels, Daemons, Gods and Goddesses he had built faith with.

Jesus backed away from the scene, looking at all the other timelines. The Jon he had contacted appeared as a brighter light among an infinite amount of dimmer lights, representing the other Jon's in a body of flowing alternate realities, mixing with each other, but each maintaining its own stream. A manifestation would be required to drastically deviate Jon from a path with slight variations from the other Jon's closest to him.

Speaking with the voices and images in the inner worlds, Jon knew it was to himself he was speaking to. All the hoopla was for overriding the programs of the mind that play the belief that magick is not real, that imagination is for children, in order to allow the other parts of his being to express its power freely, and with devotion comes experience which brings success which builds faith.
But with faith that anything is possible, and worry still being fed every now and then, there came fear in the form of knowing that creating horrible situations were also possible without the proper energy.
When he finished, he used his phone to forget about what he had done. It was 3:33 PM, and his battery was at 33 percent.
Scrolling through a video sharing platform, he happened to lift his finger off the screen too fast. A short trailer of a movie played. He had the hunch to let it run. Near the end, Jon noticed on the wall of a scene, a poster of Regdardus, a red dragon smoking out of a bong, the appearance of one the gods he had spoken to.

Jon nodded and put his phone down, thanking God within for everything. He took a deep breath and like a disease, striking back with a vengeance against the immune system, a ball of tension in his chest grew.
Oh my God! What if I'm just making it worst? I'm not so sure I did it with the right mindset! I wasn't completely calm. I rushed it! I charged up the ritual with negative energy! I'm using my own energy against me! Future generations are going to suffer because of me! My God! What am I doing?!

"Well, well, look at you? The main boss calling the shots,"
"What are you?!"
"But you got one problem,"
"Don't get any closer!"
"Your workers don't want to work for you anymore."
"Don't touch me! Get out of my house!"
"Oh, I can go, but I'm always around."

Jon sat on the ground, shaking, pressed against a wall in his living room. He sat there, watching orbs of light and shadow people move through his house for two hours which felt like three days.
When he finally had enough nerve, he stood up, using the wall as his shield to protect him from the unseen.
Beside him, a shadow figure walked through the wall and stared at him.
Jon inched away, maintaining eye contact.
It grabbed him and tossed him across the living room. Alarm sirens going off in his head, Jon got up and hobbled into the kitchen where the back door was.
"In the name of the Father and the Holy Spirit and the Son, Jesus Christ, begone all ye unholy spirits!"
The shadow vanished, then appeared before the back door. It sent out an invisible blast. Jon reeled back, smacking the back of his head on the floor. Disoriented, he flipped over to his stomach, crawling away, no clear destination in sight or in mind.
"Jeeeeeeessssuuuusssss!"
"I told you, I'm always around."
"Huh? Aaahhh! No! Please! Dear God!"
A revelation flashed in his mind. The end of his world. Apocalypse. It was there, amidst the beautiful radiance of unconditional love and divine perfection in the total destruction of his world, that he knew everything he experienced was an illusion. All the supposedly evil forces in the world were just his own reflections that he had deemed as unworthy of love, but that was all insanity, because before he was blind, but now he could see, there was only an unconditional loving awareness that was the source of all things experienced.
That's what he was. That was the true version of himself.


And off in the distance, an unknown colored flat plane, like an endless sheet of paper, rushed forward. Flying over the lovely scenery, the flat plane projected an upside down image of a new world on the domed ceiling within his skull.

Regular mundane life, normalcy, the projection showed him what he had come to know as human life. At first, he had no judgment towards it, but as he kept his focus on the projection, he forgot who he really was again.

From the flat plane, another projection, a human brain with tentacles rose. It began connecting to the things Jon focused on in the other projection with its tentacles, receiving energy. Quick work, the human brain gathered enough energy to spread throughout the projection, distorting the image. Now, Jon was no longer in neutral, but had re-engaged the first gear of the demiurge system.

"Remember me? Your savior?"
"I don't like this! Make it stop!"
"If you want it to stop, you have to do everything I say..."
"Okay, okay, please! This fucking hurts! I'll do anything!"
"Ah, I see the problem. You got a bad case of being a worthless stupid piece of shit that will never ever amount to anything, but a parasite that deserves to suffer forever!"

Gasping as he opened his eyes, Jon lifted his head off the floor. "No! Nnnooo! I don't want to be back here!"
Descending down upon him, the shadow people ripped him apart limb by limb and captured his consciousness for another run through the insane asylum planet called, Earth.




Snapping back to its own reality, Regdardus, a red dragon holding a bong with a cashed bowl of energy, looked at Jesus sitting beside him on the golden floor.
"I told you I grow that Holy Fire." Jesus pointed at Regdardus' cashed bowl.
All the Gods and Goddesses known and unknown to mankind were present in heaven for the Harvest Cup. The clusters of colorful energies pridefully arranged before each deity were their own unique batch of harvested human minds.
"Yeah, not bad,"
"Not bad? Man, that shit is at least top three. At least."
"Ehh, I'll say, it's in the lower end of the top fifty."
"Is being an idiot a part of the new shit you programmed into your batches?"
"Yup,"
"Well, it's working."
"Just smoke this." Regdardus handed Jesus the bong with a fresh bowl of his own harvest.
Shooting lasers out of his eyes, Jesus lit the bowl, drawing slowly, letting the smoke milk up. He pulled the bowl up and the smoke smacked him so hard, he traveled back in time to when he was on the cross.
"Father!! The first motherfucker! Why have you forsaken mmmmmmmeeeeeee!!" Tears rolling down his cheeks, Jesus looked down from the sky to the cheering crowd. "I hate all of you! You did this to me! If it weren't for you powerless imbeciles going against an omipotent being's will, I wouldn't be here! When I come back, I'm throwing every single one of you into the lake of fire!" Laughing hysterically, Jesus came back to the present.
"Can," Jesus slapped his knee. "You," He shook his head, his whole being vibrating from laughter. "Believe," He stomped his feet as Regdardus took the bong out of his hands. "The," Rolling on the floor, he held his stomach. "Nonsense," He started banging the back of his head on the floor. "I made them,"
Regdardus grunted and stuffed his hand into a skin pocket, bustling around looking for something.
"Believe," Hugging his knees, Jesus cradled back and forth on his back.
Regdardus smiled as he pulled out a quarter and slapped it onto Jesus' forehead.
Jesus reverted back into neutral mode and a holographic keypad projected out of his eyes.
Regdardus spoke into a hidden microphone underneath his dragon scales on his chest. "Anti-Christ confirmed. Clear to engage."

BANG!

You are the messiah. You are not the messiah. You are the messiah. You are not the messiah. You are the messiah. You are not the messiah. You are the messiah. You are not the messiah.



Androids come and androids go.
Life, the game, goes on.


The judges, already having smoked a bit of every batch, were about to announce the winners.
To no one's surprise, the judges forgot to write down scores and who's batch was who's which led to arguing about how good their own harvest were which made them forget why they called for eveyone's attention and why they were talking so loud, so everyone went back to smoking.
And from heaven, the party slowly moved to the fields of human minds as deities showed off how well their babies were doing and the setup they each had.
And before they forgot, in every field, the deities sent out the next nurturing transmissions needed for the desired taste and effect. All received equally, but the message and the form it appeared in differed from field to field, mind to mind, manifesting based on the state of being and programming of the one reading this transmission.


FIN

Speaking as a Christian, this is the most insane, weird, controversial, risky, potentially deeply offensive, spiritually serious, scientifically upending, philosophically inspired, personal, politically charged and mind-melting story that has ever been written.

Thanks for reading, but I can't tell if you enjoyed it or not. Lol

No need to be shy when you flutter by,  It's just that this reminds us of a similarly chaotic and story that was published just a bit ago.  Although I do think your story is more coherent than that one.

You have few SPAG issues that caught my eye.  The idea that reality is simply a grow room for drug addled deities is an interesting one, although I think the lack of framing for that concept negatively impacts the story in the middle.  There could be a seed here of an expanded storygame where one or more of the judges are experiencing each contestants wares and rating them, or perhaps taking the role of the dragon as a contestant and having to make choices to produce a new crop that then gets scored?

 

Thanks for reading and for the feedback. I appreciate it. Yeah, I could've framed the main idea better instead of just relying on the first line of the story to be enough until it switches over to the dragon's pov completely. And turning it into a storygame would be interesting, I'll think about it.

This really is less a story and more a "lol random" hodgepodge.

Thanks for reading. Do you mind saying what would make it more of a story?

A plot
Defined reasons for the actions taken; motivations and character traits

Thank you, fresh

The same things make every story: Characters and Setting, Conflict, Rising Action, Climax, Denouement.

Theme, Tone, and Style are also important things that can carry weaknesses in the others, or break it all on their own. I'm not sure what emotion you were aiming for at any point in this so that's a problem right there.

A lot of school aged authors starting out seem to try to present randomness and inconsistency as a crutch for comedy, hence why 'lol random' is probably the last recognized genre around here.

Thanks for the feedback!