earth is literally under siege by planet fucking jupiter
"Allow me to clear things. You, little man, carry the distinction of being a waste-lock."
"Um... That sounds... bad."
"Nonetheless, it's all quite necessary. I'm sure you wouldn't argue the point that the pre-mortem is riddled with pains, traumas, horrors, and other unpleasantries. Well, it's nothing compared to a world without waste locks.
"Know that, for all its troubles, the world is perfect. Flawless in its beauties and turmoils, violence and nightmares being a natural product of humanity.
"If you had proper eyes, you would see more than just the act of the human negative, you would see the residue of it, sewage, in a sense. People leaving trails of slime, like slugs. Slugs in dockers.
"And like any waste, it accrues. You would see people walking through this sick, unknowingly wading through it, like leaves from a forest of horrors. And it collects at a manic pace, what with humans incessantly shitting into the ether, if you will.
"It must be managed and it is - stockpiled in specially cleared out "spaces", prisons, almost, since pure aggression is a rabid thing, eager to breed, and coat everything in itself. These cells can be anything - objects, points in space, pimples, etc.
"Each cell is assigned a lock to stabilize fluctuations and maintain the seal. Of course, locks, whether humans, dogs, or weasels, never know what they've been doomed to be. God, I love that word - doom!
"Sane or damaged to begin with, they all share a common demeanor - introverted, quiet, and of no threat to anyone but themselves. Inevitably, they degenerate, collapsing into a quiet mental dissolve.
"I don't claim to know who runs this operation, but they must have been ill upon choosing you. Seems you were quite sick to begin with, then, having all this muck go through and set off some new amusement. You were anything but quiet, seeming to become almost an extension of what you were charged to contain.
"Messy, but I thought it was funny. Still, as always, it worked. A system as old as malice itself. You expired, leaving nothing but nothing for the effluent to escape into, thus effectively flushing it into oblivion. They, then, use a sort of backup disc to re-install existence. Neat, huh?"
"I'm a flusher?"
"Precisely."
~ JV
"Um... That sounds... bad."
"Nonetheless, it's all quite necessary. I'm sure you wouldn't argue the point that the pre-mortem is riddled with pains, traumas, horrors, and other unpleasantries. Well, it's nothing compared to a world without waste locks.
"Know that, for all its troubles, the world is perfect. Flawless in its beauties and turmoils, violence and nightmares being a natural product of humanity.
"If you had proper eyes, you would see more than just the act of the human negative, you would see the residue of it, sewage, in a sense. People leaving trails of slime, like slugs. Slugs in dockers.
"And like any waste, it accrues. You would see people walking through this sick, unknowingly wading through it, like leaves from a forest of horrors. And it collects at a manic pace, what with humans incessantly shitting into the ether, if you will.
"It must be managed and it is - stockpiled in specially cleared out "spaces", prisons, almost, since pure aggression is a rabid thing, eager to breed, and coat everything in itself. These cells can be anything - objects, points in space, pimples, etc.
"Each cell is assigned a lock to stabilize fluctuations and maintain the seal. Of course, locks, whether humans, dogs, or weasels, never know what they've been doomed to be. God, I love that word - doom!
"Sane or damaged to begin with, they all share a common demeanor - introverted, quiet, and of no threat to anyone but themselves. Inevitably, they degenerate, collapsing into a quiet mental dissolve.
"I don't claim to know who runs this operation, but they must have been ill upon choosing you. Seems you were quite sick to begin with, then, having all this muck go through and set off some new amusement. You were anything but quiet, seeming to become almost an extension of what you were charged to contain.
"Messy, but I thought it was funny. Still, as always, it worked. A system as old as malice itself. You expired, leaving nothing but nothing for the effluent to escape into, thus effectively flushing it into oblivion. They, then, use a sort of backup disc to re-install existence. Neat, huh?"
"I'm a flusher?"
"Precisely."
~ JV