posted on Sep, 1 2012 @ 12:23 PM
A tale of a Lost Soul:
Colors used to mean something, before the collapse, but now they are only muted secondary pigments on a palette of gray. The world changed before our
eyes near the end of 2012, a world that used to have clarity and definition, becoming one in which reality was no longer clearly defined, at least not
for the rest of us.
Life became a struggle for survival once again, after the millions had left us. Bitterness set in, and revenge became paramount. How could this
Two years later we are still trying to gain access to the sanctuary. It's nearly impenetrable, and those who enter have never returned. Some say
that death is the only means of entry, but those myths are only words mumbled round the campfires of the remaining.
I was there. I watched thousands disappear, almost instantly, and knew it was the work of advanced technology, some sort of fantastical teleportation
device, but whether it's origin was of humankind or otherworldly has never been determined. I'm opting for the former. It had to be something the
Elite had developed, in order to procure their selfish survival, and the others who have gained access somehow become their slaves. All the
speculation yields proof that the abomination must be removed, by whatever means, and our band of survivors will find a way to accomplish that. Our
planned assault occurs in the morning, a force of roughly 144,000 survivors, a perhaps final and successful attempt to penetrate the mysterious
structure. It's the largest attack force we've mustered so far.
Colors mean everything after the transformation, glorious enhancements on what used to be a drab and meaningless existence. Everything alive has
it's own hue, it's own vibration, it's own sacred energy, and yet still there are those who refuse to see the beauty in the world around them. We
watch them from inside our sanctuary, ever trying to gain access, always falling short due to their own dim vision. There are few who realize the
truth, and purity of heart is the final key they need to achieve entry into our magnificent structure. We tolerate nothing less, a community of pure
souls, transcended above the base desires and futilities we used to harbor as dear and necessary, finally seeing truth behind it's carefully woven
Time is limitless, and those outside will long lose their physical bodies before coming to the realization of some of the simplest principles to
understand. This time, that loss is permanent, and as long as they remain trapped in reality they are lost to us. Physical forms refusing to let go,
forsaking their destiny, politely refused from entering our new realm. We are the gateway to eternity, our sanctuary being a portal to everything
once forgotten by humanity.
We've plundered resources from our environment, the only goal being to attack our enemy. Our own survival is secondary to the mission at hand. We
must defile the abomination before us, the Elitist Stronghold set up to keep us away, and only then will we achieve our purpose. We agree to the man
that our purpose is conquest first, and equality second, and that any deviation from that goal is ignorance.
We have the best weapons at our disposal now, and have placed nuclear bombs at strategic points around our target. The world will be ours, and ours
alone. It is time to attack. The countdown has begun, 5, 4, 3....
….2, 1. We watch the world lit up brightly by their own greed. The sores of their own folly plague them, and slowly the old mindsets dissolve in
the dust of their once formidable presence. There is nothing left, save failed paradigms, and broken hearts, remnants of what humanity was, and never
will be again.
It's a new beginning, and once the radiation subsides in a few millennium, we will once again leave our sanctuary to re-populate the earth. Our
mistakes have been acknowledged, and the next settlements will be bound by stricter rules.