At 200 µm

May 27, 2025

“Why do you believe the specimens are tainted?”

Doctor Flesher did not like me. He did not enjoy reviewing my work. He did not want to allocate his time to my pursuits. He did not want me on his team or attending “his” university.

“Yesterday, each of the skulls had one eye. Today, each of these cells have two. Who knows what I will view tomorrow?”

On that note, Doctor Flesher departed for greener pastures. By morning, when the Governor declared a state of emergency, I would never see Doctor Flesher again.

But the skull cells I view, using an electron microscope at 45x image, might now that they had “three eyes”, possibly growing a fourth.

My last log entry, both in my log book and on the computer noted my concern.

Because bamboo is the fastest growing plant on Earth, because jets began dropping incendiary munitions near population centers, because all of the species of vegetation began to immediately die, who wouldn't be concerned?

Most likely, Doctor Flesher did not find those greener pastures he previously sought.

Perhaps the tainted bamboo beat him to them.

Perhaps that was their intent all along.

At 200 µm

May 27, 2025

“Why do you believe the specimens are tainted?”

Doctor Flesher did not like me. He did not enjoy reviewing my work. He did not want to allocate his time to my pursuits. He did not want me on his team or attending “his” university.

“Yesterday, each of the skulls had one eye. Today, each of these cells have two. Who knows what I will view tomorrow?”

On that note, Doctor Flesher departed for greener pastures. By morning, when the Governor declared a state of emergency, I would never see Doctor Flesher again.

But the skull cells I view, using an electron microscope at 45x image, might now that they had “three eyes”, possibly growing a fourth.

My last log entry, both in my log book and on the computer noted my concern.

Because bamboo is the fastest growing plant on Earth, because jets began dropping incendiary munitions near population centers, because all of the species of vegetation began to immediately die, who wouldn't be concerned?

Most likely, Doctor Flesher did not find those greener pastures he previously sought.

Perhaps the tainted bamboo beat him to them.

Perhaps that was their intent all along.

The umbilical cord has been severed,

ceasing the life-giving flow.

I am given to the wind,

directionless to blow.

To and fro, I twist, and spiral, and mesh

into a heap of like souls,

with crisp for flesh.

A crosshatch of veins

marred by waning youth.

A somber descent,

a disquieting truth.

For my days are now numbered,

the hours tick down.

I feel the stiffness encroaching,

vitality impounded.

My color is missing,

echoes of memory taunt.

All the love I beheld from overhead

like a haunt...

And now I am haunted,

hemorrhaging prose.

A violent resistance—

I haunt my ghosts.

All the love I beheld in the park

on those days,

from burgeoning souls

in life's greenest phase...

I watched them revisit.

Their visits still play

in the dredges of memory,

on fractured display.

Little I wouldn't give to recapture

those days,

but I'm aware forward is

the only viable way.

My exit is swift,

an unfelt guarantee.

I shall melt with the grasses,

and then cease to be;

a future green to feed.

Vestiges of defiance

flash in my eyes.

I am wont to feel abandoned,

cannibalized.

Stranded in myself

as discolorment climbs,

chilling my marrow,

scaling my spine.

I fall away at my edges,

trampled underfoot

by the young loves I once sheltered.

I cede my input.

I crunch to catch their ears,

a futile bid for attention.

But my presence eludes both

their minds and their mention.

My voice dries to dust,

as I slowly fold in.

Flesh gathering taut,

resistance pulled thin.

I reach for the mimic-sun streetlamp.

Pain skewing my thought.

I opt to revive

and not fade on the spot.

But the echoes of Fall are fallen,

fading with me, and soon shall impend...

The ground will turn to December's

spotless-white skin.

And the driven snow will drive me

to a place I've never been.

My future cemented, I grapple for poise.

How shall I handle this—shall

I weep or rejoice?

Rejoice that, while unnoticed, I held the rain

from the heads of the lovebirds

who caused me such pain?

That though I may falter, and though I may grieve,

I looked after the homeless

and gave them reprieve?

That the little girl who used to talk to my tree

and cry into its waist

is now hopefully in a better way,

in a better place...

Maybe one day the billboards

in the park will wear her face.

Lawyer, doctor, pop star...

May she never be erased.

Shall I rejoice that I have the foresight

to know

how short my time is,

as the seconds go and go...

One final eve, that's all I ask.

To watch sunset bruise the skyline,

and heal toward a nightfall vast.

And may it pour itself out

onto my bruised heart,

and grant me kindred peace.

May my dissolution bring about

a blissful, soft release.

And may my descent leave

an echo that rings still,

in just one tiny mind.

This is my testament and will.

And if no human eye will blur for me,

may the heavens briefly cry.

For now,

I bid a soft farewell.

thoughts sinking

mind slowing

goodbye

The umbilical cord has been severed,

ceasing the life-giving flow.

I am given to the wind,

directionless to blow.

To and fro, I twist, and spiral, and mesh

into a heap of like souls,

with crisp for flesh.

_________________________________

(Old-ish poem of mine from Wattpad. Some alterations made.)

For the kids,

Our sweet chirping baby birds,

That life would be empty without

We tell them that we are strong,

Holding back tears as we do so,

That magic exists in the world

But it's actually just kindness

The lies we tell them,

We also tell ourselves,

Because who wouldn't want to live in a world

Where the Easter bunny and these mythical creatures

are real

A place where good always wins,

And love always prevails,

Bills don't exist and food just appears,

A place where fear is a myth,

We try to give them that illusion,

To keep them happy and innocent,

And so that when they grow up,

They can cope and deal with the reality around them.

When I fart, the odor covers the planet and causes those who would choose to destroy this planet; a tough time breathing. If that isn't enough, I would belch so loudly as to shake the rafters, giving the bad people of the world a taste of what nastiness really is. Finally, I would piss in all the gas tanks of every military transport until they can no longer move. I would have one other power but would save that one for emergencies only. Turd bombs on the enemies' heads. After this is done, then leaders around the world would understand why it is vital we have clean air and deal with the ozone problem.

I can't say I like it

But I'm, what's that trending cliché phrase? Oh yes, " I'm built different ".

Although from the outside you can't tell.

I have a power, like a super power; But I gotta say it's pretty shitty.... I mean that Literally and Literally is used in the non "woke" way to actually mean Literally and does not include figuratively though I could call it figuratively because my opinion is it is shitty as well. For this instance though I mean literal.

Its shit. I mean I can with a passing glance at any distance and in any circumstance make someone shit their pants if I simply think to.

Gross right?

It is. It's gnarly and surprizingly unique to each victim I do it to. How gross is decided by a number of things the main one being what their last meal was and it is multiplied by how publicly the "doo doo" occurs.

I used to think it was a curse.

I mean I'll never forget how crazy I felt when my pre-k teacher upset me by taking my blanket away saying that "it's a blanket not a cape!" and then she did the weirdest display of behaviors.

She halted mid stride and cinched at her knees and looked like she might be about to sneeze but turning a bright rubicon red and starting to sweat a little. She did a hap hazard Plie¹ and swayed in her stance until, looking mortified she had to lean on a bookcase. Suddenly the classroom was filled with a smell like toxic waste and our teacher forgot any concept of protocol and she scuttled rapidly to the door and off into the hall without a word to anybody.

It was weird because I felt guilty and I had no clue that I should have done just that.

So my power is inflicting defecation nonconsentually.

Now immediately following that happening I did not actually grasp my part in it and naturally it took several instances before the trend hit me as stand out at all.

Why when I'm ticked off do all of these people violently poop themselves? The faces they make are the best part but the worst is the smells.

So, I've known for a long time and I never tell anyone. Ever.

I mean what could I say to explain that were I to endeavor to make you relieve yourself wherever you stood what might you think? Would you call me a freak and shun me? Be friendly but dishonestly, joking to not trigger whatever unknown Part of me controlls the crap trigger and that would basically ruin any enjoyment I get from being social.

Well lets just say this next part of my story is some unexpected shit, and I mean that in more ways than one.

I'm early in my twenties when World War 4 had broken out and world leaders are picketing about why they should get more out of leading their countries to kill one another.

Anyway, today was a pivitol moment, to act as a fulcrum that could prove to be the deciding factor of the war being won and speeches consisted of vernal cannon fodder blasting derogatory hearsay left and right and everyone wss invited to try to fight one another and no peace was to be had.

It got REALLY bad and suddenly from behind the podium the world's leaders leap, they cleared the short distances between them and violently met with one another in an altercation. Ever world leader from every nation all hog-wild fighting fisticuffs in a riotous rampage!

It was then that I thought of it, the thought that saved the world that day.

A flatulant noise squield out and surprisingly echoed from center stage. You could have heard a pin drop as the mob in the middle stayed totally still quite suddenly. They stopped on the spot and as fast as it had started momentarily minutes ago.

A hush over took the vast atrium and you could see the sign language translators holding their arms out with their thumbs and each finger floating readily. Much like a conductor conveying the count at the orchestra in the beginning of a symphony.

Cacophonous now the sound we heard, echos and though none could see what had stopped everyone. You heard the president state aloud "gotta run; seriously!" And with all the dignity he could muster he held his lower back conspicuously, and at a quickened pace made hi way back stahe and ultimately I knew he was heading to the restroom.

It would turn out that the room of shocked elite folks were all mortified and perhaps it was just what the world needed as it was revoked, the order for war.

They had all trauma bonded and embarrassed at their explosive asses they'd worked together to more or less mitigate their losses of social standing, having to stand while 100 % covered inside their slacks was their feces. As a group they came together to usurp societies judgements as the audience hadnt been phased and would be less likely to understand, once a whiff of the poop of an unexpected nature came over them in a haze of nasty smelling, conflict quelling stench rolled on them.

From that day forward all of them had that as a reference to their fellow political figure heads humanity and this effect has bled down through the cogs of society bringing peace between countries and opening mentalities to be more accepting of our differences cause when we look back it's maintained that be us black white brown tan or red; We all poop the same.

the army i will raise will have no guns.

they may have helmets, but the tomatoes we'll get pitched at us will get through.

'better get goggles on' i'll say, as i marshall them.

then, we will congregate.

one hand cobtrols the dials,

the other, hovers between the vertical and horizontal antennea.

the mummies from planet Fezvillon will stop dead in their place, and become unravelled, then their grey ash will blow in the wind.

Fezvillonians can't stand theramins.

The bomb is about to explode in only 10 minutes. But never fear! Dr. Shelley is on the case.

As she inspected the bomb, she wondered whether it was time to reveal her secret power. No one else had ever seen it in action, except for one memorable sun-related emergency in Cancún. But, as she reflected, saving the world was worth revealing her secret.

Everyone in the room grew silent as Shelley pointed at the bomb. Mustering all her energy, she yelled "SUNBLOCK!" The bomb was instantly covered in sunscreen, which was so repellent of UV rays that when the bomb exploded a second later it was a self-contained perpetual motion machine.

After surviving the explosion, the president immediately awarded her the Medal of Freedom. The bomb was moved to a nuclear energy facility, where it became the first source of completely renewable energy. And everyone lived happily ever after!

When the aliens invaded, I knew I was needed. People mocked me for this power and said I was useless. But I'll show them.

Their leader was staying in the Whitehouse in North America. I took a business flight to D.C. and requested a conference with the Leader.

"You really think you can stop us?" The Leader laughed. "Once we destroy Earth, space will finally be saved. We might even be able to relocate all organisms of Earth to safer planets-"

"Silence fiend!" I shouted and removed my oversized jacket. "I- T.V. Man, will stop you!"

I grabbed the remote and turned on the television attached to my stomach.

"What are you- what is that?" They pointed to the screen.

I smirked as they noticed my secret weapon. "This is reality T.V.."

The Leader and their bodyguards watched for two hours. I turned it off and waited for them to respond.

"Maybe," The Leader murmured, "This planet will destroy itself. Perhaps we should let it be."

That, my friends, is how I saved the planet.

We sat in the doctor's office. The doctor looked at us with a straight face and said,

"You have pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis."

"What?!" I said not knowing what the **** he was talking about.

"You have pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis." The doctor repeated.

"Is it serious?" I asked.

"It's incurable, you are going to die." the doctor continued obviously not knowing

what the term "Bedside manner" means.

"What!?" I said again.

"There's no cure. We will try to make you comfortable in the time you have remaining?" The doctor went on.

"What!?" I repeated completely in shock.

"You should probably get your affairs in order." the doctor said finally.

"How long do I have?" I begged.

"It's hard to say, maybe a decade or 2, Maybe less" The doctor answered.

"What!?" I responded.