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ISSN 1989-4163

NUMERO 09 - ENERO 2010

 

Collateral Damage - The Life and Times of Party Animal HN51

Jan Hamminga

I do not remember how I came into being but I know all of a sudden I was in a dark, damp place and I felt uncomfortable there because it was much too cold to my liking. I did a lot of jumping and screaming, dancing and singing and trying to have fun, but I couldn’t quite reach the temperatures my tiny body seemed to need. Pretty much out of nothing the desire emerged to duplicate myself, so that I could keep me company and heat things up a little better, and it did not at all sound farfetched, rather ideal and plausible. I thought as deeply as my miniature brain allowed until I went into trance and when I came out I was two, there were two of me I mean, and I couldn’t tell which I was first. It was indeed much better having company to jump with, especially being oneself the other partygoer, and I quickly decided to do it again, now both of me. Having learned the trick my duplication came almost effortlessly and since then every time again.

I danced and I grew and I danced and I grew and as I noticed how my environment turned warmer as a result of all my jumping and multiplying I started to develop a highly positive self image and I decided I was entitled to new adventures. Up till then I had not figured out much about the space I was in. It looked dark and endless in five directions and behind me there was something of a blood smeared wall. Why didn’t I move on, I thought, the multiplying force of all my weak little brains together making it seem the only logical solution. So I packed all of me and chose any impossible path, bumping against another bloody wall after short and then realizing I was in some kind of a tube which contracted at times to let pass giant chunks of various matter, sometimes great flushes of liquid which threatened to wash me deeper down into the darkness. Although I wanted to journey, I wasn’t sure the way this stuff went was the best possible path.

I then accidentally found out the bloody wall wasn’t all that scary and that I could get through without much effort and so I came into a narrow vein through which a thick, syrupy liquid ran. I jumped in and felt an overwhelming sensation of happiness taking hold of me. This was were I was meant to be, I immediately realised, and I noticed how the still quite chilly liquid quickly started adjusting its temperature to my needs. I utterly happy travelled this soft and warm and amazingly refreshing stream and when my little affluent mouthed into a wider river and then in a still wider one, the pace of the current started picking up and the whole affair became quite sensational. I was really rushing it and out of sheer joy I began multiplying myself as fast as I could. I wanted to enjoy this marvellous feeling to the fullest and from wherever I was in that original dark contracting tube I searched for places to enter this remarkable liquid, that always being very easy indeed.

I was now a very happy multitude of tiny bodies, riding a rollercoaster ride through what I came to understand was a closed system, a wide pulsating artery with many branches, dividing itself ever further until I could hardly pass individually. But that didn’t matter, because the real fun was to be had in the main stream. I felt like a giant ego there, filling the system to the max and I would have loved just to sit there in the soft cushioning liquid, but the desire to multiply by now had gathered its own independent force. I kept growing as if it was nature ruling me and I started to step out of the stream again, that is to say a few of me, and I filled up all the holes and cells that surrounded the system, until I reached the outer limits of a living body, as hot as I would have liked it but at the same time dangerously close to overheating. The fun stream by now ran irregularly at times and it was clear that the whole entity wasn’t exactly functioning properly, having cold shivers and then suddenly heating up again. How long I had been inside and how old I was, I really had no idea. My ego wouldn’t accept such careful thoughts.

I noticed though that other identical shaped bodies sometimes bent over my body and I guessed mine was one of them and that idea set the stage for the audacious plan to step over, to find new worlds where I could continue to dance and ride the rollercoaster ride once this present one had come to its end. A massive emigration programme might do the trick, I thought, just step over all together at once. But the recipient bodies wouldn’t allow. I had to sneak in the old way, just a handful of me, and for the rest I was left behind in what I now called my childhood body. It didn’t take long to start shaking uncontrollably and then stop moving all together, turning cold, so cold in fact that all the dancing I did couldn’t stop me from freezing over and dying myself, a rather unpleasant experience at the time. Luckily there were my new adventures to concentrate on. Not all bodies were alike, I soon found out. Some systems definitely had a poorer ride but there were much better ones as well. Most of them I killed over time. Some bodies were already weak and collapsed all of a sudden, others I simply hung onto too long, as with the first one, because it felt so good to stay at the party till the very end. We were like one giant discotheque and we were going through the floor big time.

Not all the bodies died under me though. Some turned out to be stronger than me. They heated up and shook like the rest, but just when I thought we were done for they regained their strength and then only slightly dropped in temperature, to their comfort clearly, but enough for me to sober up and feel cold again. This is when I die without the body and it is definitely a lot worse and it happens too often lately. Also the poisons give little respite. They throw all kinds of juices and powders through their food channel, I still think of it as my place of birth, and they sometimes stick it straight into the good old rollercoaster. These can be quite devastating, especially when they are awaiting your arrival.

But all together I still thrive. I learned the bodies move a lot and that they seem to communicate, they even have this wild game in which one penetrates the other, pushing the liquid up to full speed. They come in two varieties, from young to old, and sometimes I happen into a new one that is growing inside a penetrable one. I travel around from body to body, having a crazy good blood ride when I can, and when I can’t I just chill. What else is there to do? I’ve grown so big now I meet myself in other bodies all the time, me swarming in their eyes and smiling at that feverish glance which really is me. I have tried other bodies, lower hairy ones and small black ones, but they give bad results. I die or I change, that is always the last thing I know - something happened, I’m different - and then it is no longer me. I am not sure if I like these encounters, let my brother take care of his own business, I prefer to think.

My favourite hop spot is a huge underground system where the bodies ride trains, quite like their own rollercoaster systems, although they don‘t seem to have such fun as I have inside of them. They usually sit or stand quietly and when they touch each other I can often tell from the surge in their temperature they are unwillingly excited. Yes, I have learned to read their reactions and I believe they really hate the thought of dying, much more than me I mean, because when a body dies it’s really gone and I, well, there’s always most of me that continues. There’s always another fiesta in town.

When I think of it, and by now the size of me makes me have these strange new thoughts, I wonder about the fun in all the partying. I mean, I know how it feels and as ever more often new bodies hardly heat up under my jumping and dancing, I realise I need a body to die to really reach the summits of joy and I am starting to ask myself if it’s worth the trouble and destruction in the fact of the naked light this part of me is done for anyway. If I know from experience my time in any of these entities is limited, then why should I pursue my happiness until the very last? Why not accept the end while the recipient body still can recover? There is an endless number of bodies to be had, and if there weren’t there is at least a certain wisdom in the desire to keep some bodies in store for the next time round. I mean, there’s definitely beauty in how I conquer them and fill them up and have my fun, but there is also a certain immoral flair to it.

Is it possible that I’m growing old? From the very first moment of my conscious existence I have duplicated myself - how I came into being I still don’t know - and I always felt as young and new as my latest representations, but now that I have started to wonder about the need of riding the ride and having these marvellous sensations every time again, I feel tired as well. I guess my time will soon be up. It was nice being around, to grow into this massive ego and be a monstrous party animal, having it off as much and often as I could, but now I must call it a day. There will be other egos like mine, never exactly the same but similar, they can have their share of the fun. I had mine, I’m satisfied, I thank you all for having me. And I apologise for the destruction I caused, it comes with who I am or was. I say goodbye now. May you live on. Goodbye.

 
 

Haminga

Virus

 

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