Halle-Saale, Germany | October 9, 2009
Waldorf Schule Halle, Universe 34
9:45a.m.

"Your love alone ...
... Is not enough, not enough — not enough!

When times get tough ...
... Oh, they get tough — they get tough — they get tough!"

— Manic Street Preachers, "Your Love Alone"

The Language of Man – as well as his Knowledge, Wisdom, and Intellect – are nothing but the Low-Resolution View of Reality. Every Time we communicate, we exchange Re-Plays of Micro-Experiences. Be they fictitious, or otherwise.

It's technically easier to write a Book, than it is to make a Movie; for a Novel is an Experience embedded in a lower-Resolution Medium, compared to a Movie. And thus the Mind, and its Imagination, are tasked with filling in the Blanks.

"There comes a Point where Knowing becomes indistinguishable from Experiencing." I recounted to my unimpressed Classmates sitting next to me. "...And a Point beyond which Experiencing becomes indistinguishable from [being]."

"...What are you, Plato?" The Classroom went silent when Mr. Bräutigam slammed his Ruler on the Table. My Table. "I said [NO] talking in Class, bitte... and NO IPODs... and thank you for your Insights, Magdalene! Very clever indeed."

"I thought these 'Rudolf Steiner Schools' were supposed to be a Place of Dialogue, Creativity, and Open Mindedness?" I removed my Earbuds, and waved my Fountain Pen around as if it were a Cigarette, chewing the back of it to bits, and fiddling with the Threads and Ink Cartridges – rolling my Eyes in contempt behind the Teacher's back.

"Smoking's bad for you, by the way." He turned around and yanked the Pen from out my Lips, much to my Bewilderment. "...Pull that Thing out of your Mouth. Ta!"

"You know what?" I continued to interrupt, mimicking the wiggling of my Teacher's Nietzschiean Moustache with my Lips, just about begging to be thrown out of the Class with the Frown that I put on Herr Bräutigam's Face. He glanced over his Shoulder once more – twice as annoyed and enraged this Time.

"I am a Psychic, a Witch, and a Remote Viewer. I don't have to be in this Fucking Class. If there's anything I wanna learn – I could either just Google it – or I could consult the Leviathan and the Akashic Records."

"...You can't expel me because I QUIT!"

Boy have I always wanted to say that Line.

"...don't let the Door hit you on the way out, Jude!" Herr Bräutigam lazily gestured towards the Exit, and went on about his Lecture.

"...And don't [you] dare say anything to my Parents!" I yelled in my Defense. "Because if you do that – then I Fucking [swear] – I am going to tell them that you are a Groomer, and a Child Molester!"

"ALL OF YOU Teachers... I HATE YOU ALL!" ... and I slammed the Door shut behind me, adjusting the Straps on my Backpack, skipping every second Step on my way down the Stairs, sliding along the Handrails full of Child-like Energy. I have doubts that Mr. Bräutigam ever recovered from my hard-slapping Roast – considering just how utterly [speechless] I had left the entire Class that Day. Not that I'm in any particular Mood to go into the exact Details as to what happened to me afterwards.

It's worth pointing out that there's been a steep Rise in antisemitic Bullying around the Schoolyard within these last 48 Hours, particularly now that the whole World knows me as the Nazi-Jude (i.e. Nazi-Jew). Which could only be explained by the fact that my Home Country – the State of Israel – has greenlit a full-scale Invasion of the West Bank. Only Days after they had announced a 'Ceasefire' in Gaza, which was supposed to mark the official ending of Operation Cast Lead; a 2 Year and 22-Day-long 'Special Military Operation' which resulted in practically three quarters of the Gaza Strip being bulldozed by Air-Strikes from the IDF, in their efforts to destroy the P.F.L.P. – the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine; a violent Terrorist Organization that just so happens to have recently launched an Attack against Israel on October the 7th. Literally just two Days ago, like I said. My 16th Birthday is only like 3 Days away.

They broke the Ceasefire, raped our Women, killed a little Toddler, and spat in our Faces. Just as the United Nations had finished laying out a 'Peace Plan' for both of the Palestinian Territories. And yet somehow – these Ogres and Savages are supposed to be the Victims? Give me a break.

("That's my Life...")

...

Occupied West Bank | November 24, 2011
Ofer Prison, Universe 34
10:05a.m.

"Trade all your Heroes in... for Ghosts
... In for Ghosts – in for Ghosts!

They're always the ones that love you ... most
... Love you most – love you most!"

— Manic Street Preachers, "Your Love Alone"

Did you know that I [lied] about being bullied? You heard me right.

...Or rather – it's not that I lied about being bullied – so much as it is the Fact that I just psy-opped you into believing that I was a Victim of Bullying, without even mentioning any Experiences related to Bullying, whatsoever. My Maths Teacher didn't even call me a Jude at the Time, either. That was just a false Memory that I deliberately imprinted [myself] with, in order to make the Lies sound more natural from thereon.

Because that's how you get away with lying – mix your whole Background Story up with half-Truths, and then distract the Listener by drawing Attention to equally real Events that insinuate that the half-Truths you are trying to convince them of, are actually... one-hundred-percent True. Yet the real Pros must be able to lie to [themselves], first.

"I'll have a Chocolate Ice Cream, an Energy Drink – and two Packets of Cigarettes – bevaksha." I said to the Shopkeeper at the Kiosk, just by the Entrance of the Prison I was working at.

"Give it up, Mag – your Hebrew still sucks!" the Shopkeeper grabbed the Items from the Display Shelf, and laid them in front of me with a kind-hearted Jest. "And when did [you] start smoking, Mag? It's like we barely even know you around here."

"I don't actually smoke." He caught me blushing, but he's not gonna catch me lying, that's for sure. "It's just for a Friend of mine." ... I handed him 50 Shekels, grabbed my Snacks, my Cigarettes – and then walked off into the poorly-lit, main Corridor of the Prison Complex.

You want to know why I love working in this Place so much? It's a bit like a Shopping Mall – with Restaurants, Cafes, a Gym, a Nightclub – and a Pet Shop. All in one.

"... What do I mean by Pet Shop?" I explained to one of my male Colleagues, while munching on my Chocolate Ice Cream, and boiling the Jug for some Hot and Spicy Noodles in the Cafeteria.

"Well, it's actually a bit of a Sex Cave. If you know what I mean? But just... don't tell anyone that I told you this!?" I whispered, and looked around me – and typed the Passcode into the Numerical Lock of the Bulletproof Door adjacent to the Exit.

4 7 6 3

"Are you sure we're allowed in there?" Maximilian shook his Head ever so slightly, and slid open the Cover of the Peephole to have a look at who was inside the Room. 'The' Room.

"Of course we are!" I said to him. "We are the Wardens, we do whatever we want here – and once I make it out of the Academy – I will finally be able to join the Mossad!"

"...And then we will be Gods – for all intents and purposes!" Maximilian is actually my Brother, not my Colleague. And I don't think I was necessarily lying about the Fact that we can do whatever we want here in this Prison. Because it wouldn't even matter if I were.

I don't even know [why] I lie so much, to be honest. Though it's probably because I have an incredibly high IQ... as an Ashkenazi Jew. I suppose it's more of a 'Catch me lying if you can!' sort of Challenge, to see if I can keep up with this intricate Web of Falsehoods that leave People guessing, and thinking about me.

"...Awww!" I cooed to one of my Pigglets – who had been blinded by the Fluorescent Lights radiating from the Silhouettes of me and my Brother, standing by the Entrance. "How is my poor little Piggy Mohammed doing today, hmmm?"

"...Why don't you say Boker Tov to your Mommy!?" my Contralto had resonated through the musty, concrete Walls.

...

Eastern Gate International High School
Beijing, China | November 2027
Universe 34
7:35 p.m.

The Skies have been clearer than average on that starry Night, back in Eastern Gate Valley. It's generally difficult to get a decent look at the Stars when living in Beijing, due to the lingering amount of Smog, and Light Pollution that still permeates the Troposphere. Despite the recent Government-led Initiatives to try to improve the local Air Quality.

The good News is that our School is located at the Peak of a Mountain, making it one of the quietest and most remote places for Autistic Students like Will Stewart to learn, and study. And also get a crispy, sharp look at the Planets and Galaxies above.

"...Knock, knock!" a strangely familiar, girly Voice had announced its arrival from behind the Classroom Door – where Will Stewart had been watching, sitting by the Window Sill, in the middle of the Dark, and studying the Moons of Saturn – with a second hand, 10-inch Telescope gifted to him by Professor Jiang, from the Astronomy Labs.

"Li, is that you?" Will pulled out his Handkerchief, and blew his Nose as hard as he could; it was blocked. Not just blocked, but [bleeding] – for a tiny drop of Blood had stained the middle of the Cloth.

He stood up, switched on the Flashlight App on his Phone, and slowly made his way over to the Door – when all of the sudden – the Power blew out through the entire Building. And not just the entire Building – but his Smartphone, and his Laptop, too!

"...I can barely breathe, Li!" he struggled to breathe through his Nose, though even the back of his Throat appeared to be blocked; as if there were a Golf Ball wedged above his Larynx.

He turned around, facing away from the Door – and saw what appeared to be a floating, Holographic Wall of blue, glowing, indecipherable Text.

NenrUt Lïlw htrAeG EñïlA srAtS ...
... DreHeR-ar-guod-U … zödanU-d-ätH sI
SgnïDnE dlyoPs hTïw sëirOtS rA seEsafFfOrP ...
... E-mnïrEhC iAn-od-aM nErT-rtaW …EtäIadIN nëRoL

Will checked the Screen on his Phone again. It was rebooting.

((?)) No Signal | Wed, Nov 24 | [[--]] 5%

DragonDial E63

Loading Apps ...

"OH dear God, THANK YOU!" ...he took a deep Breath through the last remaining Gap at the back of his runny Throat, and coughed more Phlegm into his Tissue.

"...If I were you – I'd be calling an Ambulance!" the Voice of Li continued to echo throughout the Hallway.

"No!" he asserted, and scrolled through the Contacts List on his lagging Phone Interface. "You are [not] Li! This is just a Dream that I'm having..."

"It's not a Dream, Will." he rotated blindly, and felt a pair of Daddy-Long-Legs-shaped Fingers wrapping tight around his Neck. Just as the poor young Lad managed to find, and successfully dial the Number of Professor Jiang – causing him to turn partially Blue in the Face, with blood-shoot Eyes, struggling to make out the skelletal Features of the tall, Black Figure standing in front of him – actively trying to kill him.

"...Hello?" Professor Jiang had finally picked up the Phone. "Hello?? ...Will, is everything OK?"

"...NEXIAN KABBALA!!!" Will Stewart yelled towards the bottom of the Device, toggling into Speaker Mode; barely able to hold it with his left Hand.

"NE-XI-AN.. KA-BBA-LA!!"

"...Come as FAST AS YOU CAN!!!"

...

Occupied West Bank | November 24, 2011
Ofer Prison, Universe 34
11:50p.m.

Maximilian leaped from out the bullet-proof Door, and rushed into the Bathroom at the other end of the Cafeteria – plunging head-first into the Toilet Bowl, spraying the undigested remnants of his Hot and Spicy Noodles all around it – with foul-smelling bits of unflushed, brown Matter splashing back into his Eyes.

He stood up, turned on the Lights – and took a look at himself in the Mirror. Gradually wiping, and washing the Vomit and Faeces off of the Corners of his Mouth, his Eyes... and the Toilet Seat.

He then sat down, unzipped his Pants, pulled out his Phone – and began to masturbate while streaming the Private, 360p Livestream that Magdalene had initiated.

"...Now [that's] a good little Piggy of mine!" Magdalene moaned ever so softly, caressing the Head of one of two, relatively young-looking Palestinian Prisoners who had recently been instructed to take a dose of Viagra, bend over into a Doggy Position – and engage in Anal Sexual Intercourse with each other. Against their Will.

The faint Howl of an Air Raid Siren had made itself heard across the empty Streets of Ramallah, about 2 and a half Miles away. A glowing Barrage of Qassam Rockets began to fire from deep within the Hills, arching way up into the Sky – some intercepted by the Iron Dome (the anti-Rocket Air-defense Systems developed by the Israeli Military) – with the remaining Projectiles raining straight down onto the Ofer Prison Complex.

A Sonic Boom had rattled the Walls of the Red Dungeon – followed by a [second] Explosion that caused one half the Roof and Ceiling to collapse, narrowly missing the naked Palestinian Men trying to cut their Cable-Ties open with anything they could find lying in the midst of the Dust, and Rubble.

"You're not going ANYWHERE!" Magdalene spat the Sand from out of her Mouth – and shouted at the young Men, who had [just] managed to cut the Ties open, and set themselves loose. Yet there was too much Rubble for her to run fast enough to catch them again.

She slowly evacuated the Building through the Fire Exit, unscathed, and seemingly unfazed by the incident – dusting off her khaki, military Shirt, re-adjusting her Hair-Tie, pulling out a Fag from one of her recently-purchased Packets of Cigarettes – and gazing up at the Train of Fireworks swirling around from just about every Direction across the Pitch-Black Sky.

"...You can come out now!" she drew a puff from her Cigarette Butt, and then spotted a young Woman wearing a black Dress, and a Hat with a wide Brim – standing right inside the Hatch of a Merkava Tank, about 90 degrees to her Left. "You will never take a Psychic by surprise, Lisa!

... Or could it be ... Natasha??" ...she closed her Eyes, took a deep Breath, and blew a Cloud of Smoke and Steam from her ivory-colored Grin.

"You - know - I ... am - the - Fox ...
... Who - will - catch ... the Gingerbread, Man!"

To be continued...