Saturday, May 22, 2010

From the Diary of Maria #2

The lesion on my forehead is getting more and more pronounced. It looks more like an organ. It feels more like an organ, it is producing discharge which is most definitely not the cebum and pus one expects to find in a wound. I don't know what is happening to me.

All I know is the I love Chronos.

Oh my god I love him. And he loves me. I can feel it in vomaronasal organ, so can the new ones. At least the females.

I am so beautiful, of that you can be sure.

It was once my goal, but now this is my weapon, my bait. To grow our cause, a cause I still do not understand.

Chronos says its about freeing humanity from its shackles, its small-mindedness, its present weakness.

He looks so deeply at me. I can feel him scanning my skin for fluctuations on the pores, for the tension fluctuations of my muscles, for my facial expressions. He sees every twitch, every secret. My own powers of hyper-awareness give me the same ability, though I have miles to go before I can do this on the same level as Chronos.

I still don't know his first name.

He says Chronos is the only name he needs because he is one with time itself.

Chronos also ate his children, of which I am the first. Yet as I look at his skin, his muscles flex in an unconscious tide, his face made a perfect statue by awareness, and I can taste his desire. His delicious desire.

I lick beneath my lip to feel this strange evolutionary relic so awakened in me. So awakened in all the women who have come to us.

Chronos does not just desire me. He worships me. I can feel it in his movements, I can feel it in the way he watches me.

At first we recruited the way he recruited me. We put the posters up, I learned that he was getting funding from feeding his trash to the pharmaceutical companies. Pheizer, Merc, they all paid for what Chronos did not see fit to use as solvent.

It was always about the injections. The RNA nanobots, little molecules chemically programed to create subtle connections between neurons, secret gradients of neurotransmitters on the membranes, allowing the body to achieve a holistic perception of self awareness, a 6th sense of self that became stronger with conscious practice and focus. BDNF helped as well, the little machines, love to grow new dendrites, new neurons even. I don't fully understand the effect. I don't think Chronos does either.

When I ask him about it, he paraphrases Nietzsche, "We must build our house on the steep face of Mt. Vesuvious."

The nanobots have a weakness though, they only work on the obese. Chronos thinks that self loathing does something to the body in its affects on physiological gradients, something so hollistic, so emergent, even with his astronomical powers of perceptive calculation he can not unlock it.

So we recruit the fat. Roller derby players and fans were a steady influx for the army Chronos would build. And it is definitely an army he is after.

We do not tolerate insolence, disobediance or weakness.

First they come to us. A room full of useless, sweaty, life wasters. Gorged on their own emotional shortcomings. Just as we were. Perfect conditions for the drug to work its magic.

We tried in on the beautiful. Chronos and I killed them for their failure. They would simply be rejected by the drug, as if they lacked some component, some substance floating in their nervous systems. We made love still covered in their blood, musing about the nice effect that its thermal conductivity had on our embrace. He loved me. He loved me like Prometheus loved fire. And I love him, like a nun loves Christ.

At first they are confused. Overwhelmed by the initial intoxication by the nanobots.

But inside of each of them there is a great tweak on the chemical equilibrium of their bodies. Each of them carries an indestructible flame of rage. No matter how strong, the RNA nanobots thrive in it. It allows them to milk more BDNF, something to do with with the amygdale. Two lovely little brain structures, the almonds of terror and rage. This is what we think seperates the fat ones from the thin, they have suffered more, stronger output of the amygdale. Their milk is the stuff of memory, and memory is the stuff of new neurons. The cornucopia our nanobots require. The nanobots somehow enhance the molecules, make them more efficient, and receptive. We are still studying how this is done.

They grow stronger. Sometimes they are terrified. Then they realize that they can become beautiful at will. That they can accomplish all of the potential of the human body with no other cause other than will. They jump to the walls and perform acrobatics. They demonstrate feats of strength and endurance. Marveling like children at an amusement park. And one by one, they begin to show the very same lesion as I do.

Right on the forehead.

More of an organ than a lesion, the soldiers with their newly trained awareness report the same. It is an organ of some kind, not a wound. We can all feel it.

When they resist, or are slow in their advancement they are punished by me. It is no easy task mind you, it is humanity at all apex. Even the weak among us are stronger than the strongest people.

With a brutal beating. Combination of roller derby and growing up punk rock makes me a dangerous bitch. My hyper awareness is far more advanced than theirs. And Chronos is far more advanced than mine. In fact I am quite sure that Chronos is advancing beyond a human threshold of other kinds, I fear as physics is not my strong suit.

But there is so much love, that I can only trust him in this mission.

I tell him my fears, that this could destabilize us, make us have side effects. I even question if our violence is not an obvious sign of some kind of psychiatric side effect.

He laughs.

"Humanity at its finest must be a race of warriors my love, in some ways it must appear backwards, primordial... this is to appeal to the deepest human instincts. As we achieve perfection, triage must occur, and in triage we must become stronger."

Such perfect logic. As to the prospect of side effects he merely says, "There is no turning back now."

The mission is simple, we build our tribe and we begin to apply our hyper powered brains to restructuring and governing humanity. The final revolution, one made of a biochemical philsophers stone. The ultimate coup 'et tat, against the tyranny of the genome. We were moving in steps that were beyond history.

I couldn't deny it.

Humanity would have to be seized and remade in our image. No matter what the cost.

So the work must continue, new recruits, and training.

Chronos is doing the scam less and less, he doesn't do the speaking any more. He leaves us to it. Its easy, as the nanobots empower our nervous systems we attain a mental superiority equal to our physical. The brain is after all part of the body. We become charismatic, charming, persuasive, as our neurons sharpen themselves on the drug.

Chronos has begun this strange practice. He sits in a room full of clocks and watches. Of all kinds. He buys them, he steals them, he kills for them. Hour glasses, grandfather clocks, rolexes, dollar store watches, sun dials, all chronometers. At first I think its some sort of vanity, or marketing campaign based on his name, but then the lesion, i mean the organ, began to react.

When Chronos is around the clocks, he stares at them some times, and when I have been around him doing this, the organ feels like its swelling, or twitching, and I experience some new intoxication. One I don't fully understand. Chronos is doing something with the clocks, something inside himself, and i can feel it. Or rather see it. Its actually very difficult to describe.

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

From the Diary of Maria

December 12,
I love roller derby.

I so glad that I got over my inhibitions and joined the Oak Cliff Rolling Razors. I had been on the sidelines for years as my closest frien, Paulina, had become a star player. She looked so beautiful and so tough as she sped along the track.

Boys thought she was hot and women wanted to be her. She was like a real life superhero. Like Wonder Woman.

I took to it naturally, both a good Jammer and a good Blocker. Meaning I could make those bitches eat my dust, and I could stop them from getting a point.

This allowed our team to play more with strategy, and lo and behold we are winning.

But unfortunately at 225 lbs. no boys want me, and no girls want to be me. I look more like a fat ugly super villain than I do a beautiful super hero like Wonder Woman.

December 14,

Apparently just trying to diet based on what I know about nutrition is not working.

You would think, since I am almost done with nursing school, that I would have this shit together.

I do not.

I try to order the veggie burger, but when I do I get more fries an hour or so later, and dessert.

I try to choose a salad, but in case you haven't noticed, the salads usually don't have the little diet symbol on the restaurant menu. No deep fried, caramelized, lathered with cheese salads are very very fattening.

Picked up a flyer today at Cafe Brazil, it said "Counter Culture Meditation Diet" what a weird fucking thing to put on a flyer. What do they do? Drop acid and learn about annorexia. So strange.

The guy who runs it claims to be a Ph.D. I bet he got his Ph.D. on e-bay, what a douchebag.

He did have the goth boy pretty good looks. His before picture was disgustingly fat.

Way worse than me.

Way, way worse than me.

He looked like Trent Reznor from Nine Inch Nails crossed with Antonio Banderas. Very nice. And not doubt, a worthless money grubbing piece of shit.

December 17

I am having some kind of fucking break down.

I can't stop eating.

Its like the more I see the beautiful girls from the Roller Razors, the more I feel trapped inside myself, the more I eat. I am eating like the murder victim on 7. Oh, God.

I don't know what to do.

I am hiding in my car and eating, so no one ever sees me eat. But I am eating more than ever.

I tried throwing up. I figure if I can just go bulimic this will be alright. But it hurts to throw up. It hurts more than getting fucking socked by enemy roller girls. I can't do it. I wish I could just throw up.

I have to do something. Or I am going to kill myself.

December 20,

Found a new flyer. The so called goth doctor says he will do it for free if people qualify. He says he is doing it as a scientific study.

I am a nurse after all. If he's full of shit I will know.

I can always leave.

December 23

Dr. Chronos is Amazing.

He just says things that make me know that I can take control. I have only been practicing his meditation diet for a couple of days. Its definitely a legit scientific study. He has a lab, its fully staffed, it seems all of the subjects are women. This is not so unusual many medical studies control for gender at first.

He gave me an injection. Smiling his beautiful smile, "You never know, it could be the placebo."

Since I told him I was a nurse he has been very open with me about the study. He says he has discovered some RNA based fat burning tool. He says it interacts with the neurotransmitter BDNF, which makes nerves grow, burn fat on targeted spots.

Thats the best part of the whole thing. He teaches you how to target the locations for weight loss.

There are a few tricks to it.

He tells you you have to breathe like a metrognome, be very conscious of the passage of time by focusing your awareness on the breath. Its almost impossible, except for when he is around.

Oh my god, he is so amazing.

And the best news is I have already lost 20 lbs.

I am not kidding at all 20lbs . In two days.

He tells us we have to capture thoughts as if they were butterflies, to catch them in the palm of our hand, then he has us do some tai-chi pantomime that mocked catching a bug with your hand.

I know I do not have the placebo, who had ever heard of losing 20 lbs in two days.

The strangest thing is I can feel the drug. And with the meditation techniques I can really control it.

I am a little afraid because it really is like your talking to your body, and making wishes about how it should look, and your body starts to do things against its nature to make your wish come true. I hope this isn't dangerous.

But it is 20 lbs. in two days.

Dr. Chronos has FDA approval for human trials. I asked to see the paperwork.

Those are difficult to get, and I know what they look like.

December 25,

I am with Dr. Chronos now, he is sitting behind me, holding me, watching me write this.

I am afraid. He knows I am afraid.

He does not care.

There is a strange lesion forming on my forehead. I don't know what it is. I know its a side effect of the drug. I am its first success story. At least thats what Chronos tells me.

He says that he loves me. Against all better judgement, I love him. I really love him. Catholic love of husband and wife, like the kind I learned at my mother's knee. He is my husband, but I fear that I will be but one of many wives.

He holds me close, he says that he gives himself to me. That others may get a taste, but I am the one who truly possesses him. This makes me feel great warmth. A warmth which I know is the drug, and I can feel it spiraling towards the lesion.

The thing about the drug though is that I truly believe I see reality with it, and I was like a blind slug on the afterbirth without it.
I can hear my cells. They do nothing without my permission.

Chronos and I are surrounded by textbooks. He says that as my consciousness learns what to look for my unconscious physiology will begin to connect more specificially.

Even after two years of nursing school, there are more marvels in the body than you can imagine.

Ask me my weight, I wish I had more than just paper to ask that.

I am now 135 lbs. My exact goal weight. I am as beautiful as I had hoped.

I know because I can sense Dr. Chronos's hormonal changes with what he tells me is my vomeronasal organ. This is one of those strange body parts I have had to learn in order to take advantage of my new inner sight. The vomeronasal organ has been debated for years in science, whether or not it still exists in humans. It is our pheromonal perception organ, it allows me to taste the desire of men. On the inside of my upper lip.

Chronos has great desire for me. Superhuman desire.

I guess we are both superhuman.

I guess I am Wonderwoman after all.