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Grey Matter

We really do live in a world of black and white… right?

Not necessarily no.

There is this one thing that lurks underneath our own toes that mimics the color of concrete.

But, no one ever really likes to talk about it.

I don’t blame them at all for it.

Once you notice it, its like this fog that wraps around your feet like snakes only to pull you downwards straight to hell like opaque quicksand.

Hell-bent, easy to access, easy to abuse, right at our fingertips- grey matter.

It is literally under our own feet.

When ever we are on our own mobile devices, we look straight down at it.

Do we ever really pay attention to it though? Well, no not really.

But there are times when bad luck hits us the hardest and the truth behind grey matter hits us in the back of your head.

The truth really doesn’t go away you see. It’s like a big, buzzing, black house fly.

It buzzes around your face, your food, your walls, and everything it can put its grimy appendages on.

You eventually get tired of the buzzing and either let it out a window, or smash it with a flat surface.

You can always throw out the fly, but its nasty essence still remains.

We’d rather pay attention to a world of criminal lies and fraud than instead of the grey matter.

I bet you probably wonder why this stuff exists.

Well, grey matter is a portal you see. No, more like the symbiotic fog that anything six feet under would use to its advantage.

Cold rainy days, ‘Silent Hill’ ridden fog, the calm after the storm, cloudy days, we could gaze at its beauty, but we don’t.

We don’t realize that the grey matter is what creates the beauty in our world. Yes that’s right I said it.

Our sunny days, jade green grasses, lush shrubbery, ever-growing trees and nature, the ebb and flow of tides and rivers, yes. That’s all the work of grey matter.

But, we’ve taken it for granted. We treat it like as if it’s a wet animal trying to reach inside for shelter, for hope in the middle of a massive downpour.

We reject it like our own fear of the dark or of dusty closest or corridors.

Well my dear friend, if you believe Mother Nature doesn’t exist, you are dead wrong.

She has grown far too tired of our negligenceĀ and ignorance of true beauty.

She’s fed up of the polution, endless flow of trash and filth, carelessness of the neature before us and the many inhabitants it beholds.

I felt her come into a dream of mine the other night. Of course it frightened me.

Who would see a massive overly talkative oak tree in the middle of thick grey fog in the middle of nowhere?

Only in a dream you would. She was so beautiful, but dying. I watched her as she leaned one of her decaying branches on my shoulder. A wave of visions and omens flooded my eyes.

I jolted awake in tears and felt a gentle whisper in my ear say, “Spread awareness of the grey fog, or behold to witness the death of mankind and the slow decay of the universe”.

So, here I am. Portraying to you the same dream I’ve had over and over for the past week.

I’m so done with ignorance. I’m so done with hate.

I’ve created what is similar to a bomb shelter, except only a bit smaller and more confined being hundreds of feet below my place of dwelling.

I will never let anyone in. Never. Not even my own family can join me.

You see, the reason why I am here is because I conducted some experiments.

Experiments of various elements from the periodic table with a mixture of witchcraft, ancient voodoo rituals, and bones and parts of animals who dwell in the fog.

I managed to concoct it into a perfectly beautiful glass jar I made of my own. I tested a bit of it, and only one drop made my house collapseand sink into oblivion.

I realized how successful it was just with one drop. I couldn’t imagine what the whole jar could do to the world. I did a bit of traveling and went to Niagra falls, a bucket list choice.

I tossed that jar without anyone noticing and I got out of there as fast as I could, which was pretty easy. I started a fire on my property and watched the remnants of my family and children disintegrate.

I took personal pleasure knowing that I have indeed completed my work.

I had to do it. It was the only way. I had been an environmentalist for 21 years, and it still didn’t matter.

Internet posts, petitions, fundraisers, rallys, workshops… nothing worked. After seeing that repetitive dream, I finally got the last one that showed the same tree telling me that I knew what to do.

Science has never been my thing, but after getting my BA and Masters in Physics and Chemistry, it was a slam dunk.

Before I log off to watch the human race burn, I have a few last things to say.

Its 2025. I am 45 years of age, and now living without a family. I was promised a new life, a flawless destiny, and a Utopia only described by the ancients.

As I walked into the bunker and locked myself in, I saw the tree appear to me with my own eyes.

“Well done my dear son. You have done well. Its time to see your work go into effort. Now, let me take this over and refresh the world to what it should be. The only ones that will remain are you and me.”

I nodded and hugged the tree. She disappeared as soon as she appeared. I turned on my weather radio and TV. It was on mute, but somehow I could still hear the screams.

Screams developed by research that took years to make.

 

One thought on “Grey Matter

  1. Pingback: Choices versus Voices | ASnowpasta Chronicles

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