- Joined
- Jun 4, 2008
- Messages
- 6
I got curious. 
So then, after the curiosity struck me, struck me like a grandma strikes a bucket on a hot Tuesday, I moved the cursor, moved it like never before, with speeds increasing over 40 nanometers per second, all the way to the middle of the screen, so fast that I was sure the monitor was going to explode, for nothing could handle this kind of intensity. And then, I moved all the way to it - the link. It was some sort of message, a secret code perhaps, and somewhere, I knew that that green text in front of the dark gray background of the webpage was telling me, click me. Click me. Click me. The insanity of it all. First the agonizing carpal tunnel effects on my hand as it stood, struck with pain, shaking on the table. And my face, furiously and perfusely sweating with enormous rivers of sodium-filled, blood-like perspiration. And my brain, swirling in a whirlpool of the sea of uncertainty and misery, as my body began to shut against itself. Vomit spewed from my mouth as a final, desperate attempt for my body to regain its former living self. But I knew it was over. And as I fell to the ground, I felt the life force being sucked from me. It was flowing out of my eye sockets, so hard that I thought it would pull every organ with it. And as it flew out, I did think of one thing. And that was that perhaps peace was only a few seconds away. And this horrible agonizing misery was a few seconds from being over. I saw the last seconds of life. And saw into the world that lied beneath it, on the other side of every object we see. We never see the entire object at once; we can only scroll around all sides. But now I saw the side that nobody else sees; the unseen. The world of death.
And then the page finished loading. So I typed the experience that I just went through. And then I finished typing the last bit as you read it and are reading this right now, standing there, completely confused, like the orc smiley in my signature below.
So then, after the curiosity struck me, struck me like a grandma strikes a bucket on a hot Tuesday, I moved the cursor, moved it like never before, with speeds increasing over 40 nanometers per second, all the way to the middle of the screen, so fast that I was sure the monitor was going to explode, for nothing could handle this kind of intensity. And then, I moved all the way to it - the link. It was some sort of message, a secret code perhaps, and somewhere, I knew that that green text in front of the dark gray background of the webpage was telling me, click me. Click me. Click me. The insanity of it all. First the agonizing carpal tunnel effects on my hand as it stood, struck with pain, shaking on the table. And my face, furiously and perfusely sweating with enormous rivers of sodium-filled, blood-like perspiration. And my brain, swirling in a whirlpool of the sea of uncertainty and misery, as my body began to shut against itself. Vomit spewed from my mouth as a final, desperate attempt for my body to regain its former living self. But I knew it was over. And as I fell to the ground, I felt the life force being sucked from me. It was flowing out of my eye sockets, so hard that I thought it would pull every organ with it. And as it flew out, I did think of one thing. And that was that perhaps peace was only a few seconds away. And this horrible agonizing misery was a few seconds from being over. I saw the last seconds of life. And saw into the world that lied beneath it, on the other side of every object we see. We never see the entire object at once; we can only scroll around all sides. But now I saw the side that nobody else sees; the unseen. The world of death.
And then the page finished loading. So I typed the experience that I just went through. And then I finished typing the last bit as you read it and are reading this right now, standing there, completely confused, like the orc smiley in my signature below.
