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XOR Dreams: A Lovecraftian Cyberpunk Part The First

By LWFlouisa · Dec 1, 2017 ·
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  1. Bits and bytes, it was the stuff taught as basics in high school computer
    class. Boring, but necessary. At least at first. The flickered out at light speed,
    and I get on my computer. I checked logged in, checked email, and jacked out. I had
    tried various writing websites since the start of my class, and yet there was nothing
    like writing in my notebook at home. To think that, so young, I refused to roam with
    other cattle. Other girls, while more beautiful than I, were as close as you could
    get to cows. And so few among them, were as tender as the lambs. And, alone in the
    darkness, I savor their silence as I fall into a dream. I think of girls getting
    their heads taken off by the guillotine. I imagined brief acquaintances I knew at
    school dining in the blood of their friends. I became puffed on, and I felt a coolness
    like someone watching my under regions with a wash cloth. And I dream of them speaking
    the King's French while whispering in my ear. Indeed, the rest of my school days
    would be an excellent year.
    You wouldn't think someone as harmless looking, would have a thing for blood,
    and yet the more my sexuality develops, the more certain desires have intensified
    since graduation. I despise of crowded events, like graduation and wedding day. I
    prefer to ride horses in the clouds, and seeing shadows split by the illuminated
    lights of the street lights. I stalk the night, and the night consents, as I wander
    in its shadows. In its shadows, I carry a cane with me, and feel something following
    me. Then I wake up, as if from a fall. At times writing of my life is difficult, but
    that is because so often it has been far to strange for people to believe. I only
    wish it were as normal as vampires who stalk the night. When you see nothing but
    emptyness, at times your mind fills in the blanks. And often such thoughts come
    alive. And yet for the longest time, I had dreams of being taken aboard by alien
    spacecraft, one I remember when I was young, involved a young grey telling me
    that I wouldn't be harmed. Many of my sensations of sex, have been with the greys
    from the reticulan region. Demons, angels, shadows; all these things are far
    more tame, my terrors far darker than the opus of Mein Kamph. For, as you see,
    I have gotten away with much, and yet do to the nature of it, almost nobody ever
    notices it.
    It was midnight, when I had met her. She was wearing a red dress, and
    offered to take me in. I had moved out after my parents had died, leaving me
    behind at thirty two. And now I go through life wandering if there is any
    childhood left to live. In my mind, I dream of fantasy adventures of children
    flying gliders, riding on the wings on birds in flight. And yet I go through
    my days plying my trade in stream and block ciphers, under the glow of black
    candle lights. I never found out her name, yet seemed to take no issue with
    spending most of my time writing stories, even in perhaps I never chose to
    publish them. Part of it being a matter of self-doubt, and part of it was
    the shame of my own sexuality. She read to me some of her middle grade novels
    she kept in her younger years. She commented how it seemed I was one of the
    few writers still in existance.

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