This just in. The birth, of a new universe. It is hard to write, to think, to keep my eyes open. To breath. Everything is new. Brand new. I can smell it, feel it… sense it. Wherever I look I find amazing new things. Every object, living entity is new to me. I look into the mirror, and a handsome guy whom I never met before spares me a glance. Who is he? Where am I? Who are the ones sleeping int he next room?
In which year, which universe, are we? Which galaxy, which solar system, which planet, country, city, district, street, house, room, body am I currently staying in? What is this? What happened?
Everything turned upside down. Funny thing is, it appears to be the same. The MilkyWay, The Earth, Hungary, Budapest. Wesselényi street. The body of Destinix. And yet – nothing is the same int he inside. I did threw it all away. Upgraded.
I… evolved.
Again.
The era of the awesome philosopher starts here. Keep an eye out for Destinix3.0
- Evolution complete.
- No. I have only begun.
- Still, this is pretty remarkeble, but, only if you can maintain it for at least a coupple of weeks. Typing it isn’t the main thing.
- Doing it, is the one, I am aware of that. But this time, no promises. I’m not playing fool anybody. And I’m not indending to do it to myself.
- Why is it going to be different this time?
- The universe has just vanished out of sight. A new one steped into it’s place. This is what happened. I shifted into an other one. In this one, everything seems to be the same, the difference is that my chains, arent holding me back here. They couldn’t come through here. It is only me and everything else except for them.
The young man opened his eyes, stood up, and looked into the eye of the old man.
- It’s going to be destinary!
He could see the painful face of his mentor, which was saying that such lame, clone catchphrases won’t take him to good places. He couldn’t care less. He was free. He turned his back in him, and started walking. This time, there was no pit. It remained in the original universe. In this one, everything was ahead of him. He was holding some sort of magic pen. The whole universe was his paintboard.
- I’ve got so much to tell. I thought I needed something safe, something absolute to write. But my eyes were opened. Writing brings absolute. Everything else comes next. Then others revealed that I used to be such a good listener, no all I care is telling. From this point, the two is united.
Why so awesome?
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