"One of the smallest , independent kingdoms in the ciberuniverse. Nothing fancy. Population? Just me, myself and my jaguars, my movies and my books (and, at this very moment, YOU). Hided and secret like Skull Island or Opar, the ancients in Guelyland use to read the scrools of a minor god called Voor-Hes.
Most of the treasures of Guelyland are made of paper, plastic and vinyl.Guelyland dreams with expanding in deep more then in surface. The music of Nik Kershaw has been heard here. There are apes, lots of apes in Guelyland. Woody Allen and Bob Hope visit it quite often. Here we love books (the Kingdoms Library is both celebrated and secret) Here we are atheists but very tolerant and think of god a bit too often and much. Guelyland is, the stuff my dreams are made of..."
MAY I INTEREST YOU IN SOME...
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Wednesday, December 17, 2008
It was the worst storm an he was outside. He could feel like as it was more the one at the same time. He was in the eye of it and it was not calm as they say of eye of the hurricanes. More then one hurricane at the same time? It felt so. Looking for a shelter where to rest, to stay, to light a cigarette. He was alone because the dark winds left him so. Because maybe he was the cause of the storms or at least of some or one of them. If there was a shelter to find, what did he wish to find in? Food? He didn't care much about food. His favorite books? He was too tired for reading. Maybe to hold one for a while in his arms before sleeping as if he was reading it. Actually he was hoping to find some music. Old one. The kind that wouldn't remind her. Yes, then the music should be more then five years old. Older then his love. The kind of music that she use to detest because didn't bring her nothing good, but maybe ugly memories. Yes. There was a she. Isn't always? One of the storms took her away or maybe she just decided to get to another shelter and not wait for him. There were so many shelters but they were so far away from each other like the stars are. He couldn't see them either to help him finding his way.No way to call, his phone was dead and with those winds it didn't make much difference if it weren't so. It was a very open field and the almost horizontal rain was blended with snow.The mud getting in his shoes.He was tired but not sleepy (and he knew the difference too well) Didn't know which way to go. Any direction could be a way to nowhere or to the end of his strength. Lost and cold. A cold that was freezing his memory as well. What era was he living in? Some space age era? It didn't matter. Because was his now and that was it. In his condition he will die anyway soon, no matter how science and human progress were developed. Because none was looking for him and because everybody was afraid of the storms. They were the worst ever.
How did he end up there? First they told him he should move to another shelter and even if he didn't wanted he had no choice. He was trying to be positive and hold the minimal hope of finding her somehow because she was not with him. Now, with this infernal cold weather the chances were like the temperature, falling down.
Walking watching his feet was not helping either but with the rain whipping his eyes he was doing what he thought was best. But then it was. A shelter. It was close. Fifty meters away or so. Those big windows help him to imagine a familiar face inside. They saw him. Familiar or not the faces were looking and start waving at him. When he got close enough he saw the door closed and the faces were looking at him with pity. Yes there was one or two familiar faces there. But they were as sad as the rest of the crowd inside because they knew they couldn't open. He knew that it was because there was just not place for him. The storm were supose to last longer then the time he could stay.He didn't want to see them watch him die and make them feel guilty for that.Besides the majority didn't know him and wouldn't let him in anyway. He guessed that if they were gonna help somebody everybody was waiting for someone more important or useful some kind of leader he knew he wasn't. He turned his back to the shelter and hope and faced the darkness again. Maybe those friends inside were only his imagination and because he didn't want to think that they left him out, he stop thinking about it. How much of a chance had him of finding another shelter again? Maybe none or one but not a big one. With all the gods dead long ago and the mortals tied by their own fears he felt himself losing his hope,again. So, he walk and walk until he couldn't see any shelter anymore and went his way holding the imaginary hope to find her. The illusion that for some irrational reason he was leading her way. Getting closer to her at least in his imagination. As if she and survival were one thing. At least that was keeping him alive fighting the storms that wanted him dead.
That's the last I heard of him. I promise you people, if I have some news, you will be the first to know.
As him, you can hope too.