Sunday, March 25, 2012

Wanderer of Dimensions

Mother had told me that I was strong. She had told me that I would learn many things and be able to withstand any terrible, dire circumstance. I was a dragon, and of course I could withstand any terrible and dire circumstance, correct? I would certainly be able to beat everything and everyone in a fight and laugh at them. I would certainly be able to rule the world with my godly appearance and personality. Am I not correct? Of course, what happened to weakness and doubt? What happened to emotion and failure? Mother was wrong. Even now I still wander about between worlds and visit different places. She had said to me that I would rule the universe. It was not only words of encouragement she had given me, but a command.
Mother had given me everything, taken me everywhere to show off my talents of writing, music, visual art, and intellect about the physical world, and even went to the extent of selling me to the all-powerful king of justice and truth and peace and what-not. I enjoyed all of what she did for me then. Perhaps my growing mind began to understand that it was all some trap mother had guided me through. When I became two-hundred eighty years old (only fourteen years old if you think of it in human years), I escaped from my mother. I left no note and no sign of where I would go.
Why had mother done all of these things for me in the first place? The answer for me remains unknown. She had always told me that she wanted the best for me and everyone to respect me because I was a "Nothing"-- neither male nor female. She thought that everyone would stop teasing me. People only teased me more because my mother did no much for me, and they thought I was the most spoiled dragon in the world. It was true, until I ran away to a different dimension.
I currently lurk in the Eighth Dimension of Sooted Star. It is a fine place-- a nearly unspoiled world where there are no developed cities or technology. I do not write, draw, or create music anymore. My only creative hobby is making little things out of sticks or rocks or whatever there is to find that is natural. I am content now. I have recently turned three-hundred forty years old (seventeen). My mother has not found me yet for her revenge, but I certainly predict that she will find me one day. That will not be in years though.

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