Wednesday, January 31, 2018

The Woods Behind Me

The Woods Behind Me
Short Story
By: Gustavo Calvo
“Who are you?”
“I am nobody, but I am everything”
“Are you Satan?”
“I am confused”
“I am the void, I exist and I don’t”
“You are God?”
“Neither; I am the one who forms cohesion between everything, between your world and the nothingness”
“Why are you showing in front of me?”
“You are one of the few who can see me”
“Like I am woke?”
“No, that is just pure bullshit; is much as you know I exist and I acknowledge your existence; we understand each other beyond words”
“I understand”
“There is a moment in life, where you realize how fragile everything is; such as this moment, you are here laying on the side of tree. Enjoying this peace and quiet before oblivion comes”
“Death seems to be serene as a presence, but you are quite understanding into talking about the essence of being”
“Death is not as merciful as you think”
“I assume you know they”
“Death wasn’t the one who caused you this; instead you decided to embrace them”
“I wanted to call Death…”
“You became an emissary of they, by embracing your own mortality”
“I couldn’t keep up; now I am fighting to move or breath…”
“Just close your eyes and become one with I”
“One with one of the Elders of the Universe?”
“You can ascend…”
“I have to be hallucinating due the loss of blood”

“No, you are not” The Void became again ethereal and absorbed him; the wind on the top of the trees started to how as if the agony was reaching is peak. His body was left behind near the willow and he became one with the nothingness.

Wednesday, January 24, 2018

The Gun of the Saint Short Story

The Gun of the Saint
Gustavo Simmons
In the country of Liberatus, there was an ongoing civil war between the East and West, the feelings of separation between the country were every day striking the fragile stability within the republic. Some people were arguing that the federalist ideology was the reason on why the country was crumbling into pieces, others where mentioning that it was on an administrative division on why the civil war started.
A hidden reality between the problematics in the country, is that there was a chase for some ancient artifacts that could give the people who found them a series of skills that could be used to subjugate large groups of population with extreme ease.
The objects were known as the Storm Arcana, 22 in total, each of them had different effects on the users, the myths said the powers that granted were individual but it was the last object, the 22nd in number that could move mountains without the necessity of having faith.
Part of the myth came that within an area shaped as a hexagon, the body of the first user of the Arcana, a man who used to go by the moniker of Barry exhibited great abilities and it was the last object that was buried with his tomb. Those where the fragments of the legend that made President MacLeod to pursue the artifacts and try to end the civil war that divided the nation beyond the two fragments; as there was a third division within the Central region of Liberatus in which it was a point of neutrality in which every now and then some combats occurred.
That last artifact was known as the Gun of the Saint; it was the treasure the Hunters wanted the most, but also it was the most problematic to obtain, not because of the location but rather it required five of the other artifacts and they were spread also everywhere and much of them weren’t even sure if they really existed.
Donaldson was 21 years old, he was the oldest of 10 children and one of the three that helped his parents with their cattle ranch that was in the middle of West Miames, essentially the lived in a zone where there was no conflict but on occasions several bursts of violence appeared and they were on several occasions to lose the little that they had.
It was December 21st of 1885, Newton County was in rubbles, Donaldson was running as quickly as he could as the Liberation Fronts were creating chaos around the province, he didn’t know if anyone of his household was dead or alive, he was just worried to find a shelter and try not to be killed.
The attack happened out of nowhere, he was one moment on the town grocery store buying a few items for dinner and suddenly a squad of M.4 Sherman’s came out of nowhere and started aiming at everyone; within a few hours the county was destroyed and the chances of survivors seemed to be one to none.
Donaldson found himself in the Kankakee State Park, he was hiding from the Liberation Army, from what he heard they went to exterminate and conquer Newton County as it was a part of their expansion to finally take over the Federalist government.
The soldiers where on his tail, he didn’t know what to do except for hiding. The park was being surrounded by the armed forces of the counter revolution, he was running out of breath, and he didn’t know where to go or hide so at the he surrendered, even if he didn’t commit any crimes.
“What I had done?” He said.
“Existing, we were ordered to exterminate everyone in this county” The nameless soldier replied.
“None of your business” the soldier aimed his musket but the bullet didn’t hit Donaldson as time froze before his eyes. A wheel was standing in front of him, there were markings in front of the wheel that mentioned life and death, and some others that he couldn’t decipher.
He was enchanted and grateful for that moment, he got saved for some reason and he couldn’t have understood why?
“My child you always been lucky” a disembodied voice appeared from nowhere. “please take this treasure that we give to you” Donaldson touched the wheel, he realized he was in control of other people’s faith but he was wondering if there were going to be some backlash against him”

He touched the wheel and suddenly time regained its flow; he forgot the bullet that was aimed at him and he only heard the noise of it impacting the ground. After that he heard screams “He got one of the treasures”, he knew his life was going to change. 

Monday, July 10, 2017

When We Went to War Chapter One

Chapter One
In the Middle of Nowhere
Where to start? The world political climate changed after the election of the 45th President of the United States and subsequently his V.P. becoming the 45th four years later; the Democratic Party was no longer there and America turned into some form of theocracy in which Eugenics and racial purity were advocated by the White Nationalist Party, it was almost as the timeline of Marvel’s comic book Line Old Man Logan.
“What was that?” She asked.
“It’s just the siren, we need to take shelter as soon as possible” He replied.
“The Tu-95’s are coming”
“We are in the middle of nowhere in Red Lodge, Minnesota! How did they reach here?!”
“They are everywhere; we have no choice”
They started to run down the basement with the hopes of not dying in the explosions. They could hear the loud detonations coming from the surface, as they laid in the bottom, they were scared that the next wave could be the last as not many places on Minnesota were infiltrated by the Red Wave of Mother Russia.
“It is over?” He said.
“For now; I can’t hear anything”
“Me neither, let’s go up again”
Both went to the surface again; they saw smoke coming from the town, they thought about going to help as soon as they could but they wanted to see if their herd was OK, as well their edifications in the ranch. Nothing seemed to be wrong, the only thing they didn’t had was connection to the emergency telephone line which they assumed the bombarding destroyed the central that was in the town.
They checked that their truck still had some gas and they rushed to town to help, they were concerned that some relatives could be dead, but they wanted to know if their neighbors were doing OK after the attack of the Russians. Nobody near them seemed to be affected, their suspicions turned right after they noticed the town was mostly destroyed; they were trying to understand why their town became a target? It wasn’t as big as NYC or whatever else was in Washington D.C.
“Oil and water” He said.
“What?” She replied.
“The Russians are behind the mineral resources that we have.”
“What do you say that? Their territory has more than any on Earth, they do not anything”
“They are trying to finally decimate us; contaminate the natural resources and destroy any possible location of oil it will destroy the country last foundations to rise up from the ashes; especially any deposit of drinking water”
“That is quite creepy, the possibility that it happens will kill everyone”
“What can we do?”

“To keep fighting. We have no choice but to keep fighting; we can’t escape to Canada and Mexico anymore, we need to fight” Teresa and Bobby kept driving to the ruins of the small town to help any survivors.

Tuesday, May 16, 2017

El Golpe de Estado Capitulo Uno

Las Memorias de Nadie
Capitulo Uno
¿Por qué no estoy escribiendo en español y no en inglés? Porque realmente siento que las voces que conformaban este país, el “país de la libertad” han caído bajo la dictadura que fue elegida en el 2016 bajo la elección del colegio de electores. Ese fue el momento de la caída del Imperio, ese fue el momento que no hubo vuelta atrás y Rusia termino consolidada como la primera potencia del mundo más arriba de China.
Se preguntan ¿Por qué Rusia? La razón es muy sencilla, Putin terminó orquestando la caída de los Estados Unidos y solidificando la Revolución Marxista en China y tumbando el pseudo-gobierno libre de Hong Kong. El golpe del mazo de la Unión Soviética le dio fuerte al mundo, pero esta no es solo la historia del mundo y de cómo los Estados Unidos cayeron en el desespero, es la historia de la gente que vieron la ascensión de un nuevo poder económico y los nacionalistas blancos cristianos de la extrema derecha.
Esta historia no empezó en el año 2016 con las elecciones presidenciales y con el país dividido, esta historia fue el proceso político, económico y social que empezó a tomar forma a finales de los años 70 cuando la extrema derecha cristiana cuando de por si eran un grupo minoritario, pero con un poder hegemónico que se concentraba en el “cinturón bíblico” de los Estados Unidos de America, específicamente en el área de Virgina.
Tenemos que entender que, en los años 70, solo sucedió el pináculo de la ideología en manos del Reverendo Jerry Falwell y la fundación de la Mayoría Moral o Moral Majority como se conoce en sus ciclas en Ingles. Hay que saber que el movimiento no se inició con Jerry Falwell pero es aún más viejo que un viaje psicodélico, la idea de que el Cristianismo y sus diferentes denominaciones estaban perseguidas o condenadas ha estado relacionada con el desarrollo expansionista del país y con la introducción de los medios de comunicación como la prensa y sobre todo la radio difusión que dio pie a los movimientos del avivamiento que trataron de influenciar la política a principios del siglo 20 pero solo fue el Reverendo Falwell el que a final de siglo impulso el movimiento en conjunto con el Christian Broadcasting Network.
Fue en los años 80 que los Bautistas Sureños empezaron con la propaganda y con la influencia populista de meterle a los feligreses ideas políticas que estuvieran relacionadas con la interpretación literal de la Biblia del Rey Jaime en una sociedad que no necesitaba ideas de antaño, pero una influencia modernista sobre los derechos humanos y expansión económica.
Los años 80 fue la época de oro para promover la idea que el cristianismo como tal estaba condenado, estaba siendo perseguido y estaba siendo diezmado. Promover la desinformación y justificar el odio contra las minorías raciales y de genero e identidad sexual estaban a la orden del día; la idea que el SIDA era un castigo de Dios para la comunidad LGBT fue promovida por ellos, y el odio justificado contra la comunidad gay era casi un deber en la programación y en el mensaje mediático que estaban mandado
Algunos dirían que los tiempos cambian, porque en los años 90 y con el año 2015 las actitudes cambiaron, al menos en teoría. El matrimonio igualitario se posiciono como derecho fundamental y el intercambio de talento humano creció exponencialmente, pero llego un punto en el año 2010 en el cual las teorías descritas por el autor de ideología neo-nazi Alain de Benoit en el cual la influencia contra el establecimiento político, el multiculturalismo y ser políticamente correcto influenciaron a dos generaciones Americanos sobre “el poderío Imperialista y como los únicos que deberían estar sobre el poder son los Americanos blancos y Protestantes”
Las memorias sencillamente son de nadie, son descritas para luego olvidarse, para repetir los mismos errores y rechazar lo que hizo al país grande que fue la inmigración, pero al mismo tiempo lo que extermino a las poblaciones aborígenes de la parte norte del continente. En si las memorias estas ligadas con el Excepcionalísimo Americano y con la Doctrina del Destino Manifesto, que de pronto explicaría en parte el odio como personas como Donald Trump y Steve Bannon le tienen a los mexicanos y otras poblaciones Hispanoparlantes.
El odio no es nuevo, ha estado cultivándose por diferentes generaciones, creciendo lentamente, pasando de padre a hijo y poniendo siempre la idea de que una raza es superior a la otra pero que no se puede comentar en voz alta, hasta el año 2015 cuando la carrera a la presidencia empezó y de repente esas voces del silencio y odio tuvieron un canal para comunicarse abiertamente y un grupo de políticos que los representaban.
Es escabroso pensarlo, pero se veía venir. Se vio venir y nada pudo pararlo, el mismo Trump le dio un nombre El Tren del Triunfo o Trump Train como era conocido en Ingles, casi similar al slogan de la Segunda Guerra Mundial para promover el fascismo alrededor de Europa, ese fue el pináculo del Nacionalismo Americano, vino en un traje y corbata hechos en China y con unas palabras que al final del día no significaban nada a favor de un desarrollo económico y social.

Ahora ha pasado un año y dos meses desde el inicio de la presidencia y la situación económica y social ha desmejorado; realmente ya no se puede hablar mucho de la “tierra de las oportunidades” y de la libertad de expresión; realmente no hay libertad de expresión. No se puede criticar a la Presidencia porque uno puede parar a la cárcel por traición, no se sabe que pasa en la Casa Blanca ya que la prensa no está permitida… pensar que El Washington Post cerró sus puertas porque fueron considerados subversivos por miembros del congreso, pensar que estos son los Estados Unidos del siglo veintiuno.

Wednesday, February 22, 2017

Hold onto Me

Hold onto Me

Short Story
By: Gustavo Simmons
There was a moment where time just became a mere illusion, the perception of self was another mirage which was linked to the sensuous system of the brain. Yesterday comes today, and the future becomes a tangible thing that ceased to exist. Understanding time can be a complex theory, especially when you aren’t attached to it.
Just to think on the multiple timeliness and suddenly “jump” from one point to the other and even recreate the universe when the universe reached the point of extinction. He was a “god” among men, with an impossibility to avoid death, just by resetting the “switch around him” but there were two flaws towards his recreation of the universe the first one being that no matter what, he would return to the age he was on the year he leaped and the second flaw it was that the three people he treasured the most were preset to be lost in the time-stream.
At first he just started to jump on different timelines, different places across the multiverse, it was just an adventure, then he fall in love with a guy who lived in a small countryside town, a very nice guy whom he visited on several occasions; then when tragedy happened and the guy who he fall in love died in his sleep, it was the moment that he realized he could turn back in time and space; essentially creating a new timeline in the preset universe.
The first morning that he went back, he went back further in time, he went to 1996, he was back in Colombia and he found himself back on the sixth grade. He couldn’t believe that he was so far in time, mostly because when he traveled between different coordinates it was only days apart but on different historical settings. Traveling around the continuum always gave him different ideas about how history could turn to be, but doing the feature of resetting a timeline, his own timeline was something he never imagined.
He knew he was born with that ability and every time he traveled he never influenced on any outcomes of the timelines he visited, he just was there to learn about history of the world from different perspectives. What if with the creation of a new timeline, the repercussions would be catastrophic? One life that you save would equal a life that would die? Or for every action you take when the timeline resets you are destined to live a life of misery and solitude?
Yet, he didn’t care, he just wanted to be with him, he wanted to be there for him. He became his anchor to reality, no matter what reality he created he always recreated him. Him, became the person he tried to save, to hold onto after he met his death thousands of times, was alive in each recreation and new timeline.

Still, he was alone, alone in between a sea of people he met and interacted with, and with his out of the world powers he always wanted to go back to him, because with him he was only happy, happy as he never was before.

Saturday, February 11, 2017

A Slice of Pizza

A Slice of Pizza

Short Story

By: Gustavo Simmons

A long time ago, there were seven beings who were manifestations of the inner darkest emotions of humanity. Intangible beings, who had the ability to manipulate the emotions of beings… at the end, these beings were sent to the mortal plane to live an existence of life and death because of the sins the committed and the sins they turned.

Lust, Wrath, Pride, Gluttony, Envy, Greed and Sloth were among us, among humanity. The cycle came every 90 years; all of them would live and die on the same day and time, the only exception was that all they were going to be born on different locations around the world but after 20 years of living they would gather on one random place and live near of the same city or country.

That was the mythos of the Seven, a mythos that everyone over time forgot. Yet, two of them were eating a pizza on the outskirts of Tampa, Florida.

It was a Sunday, January the 6th of 2002. They didn’t have a name; but they were old friends and brothers, part of the cabal. Two of the they, Pride and Wrath were sitting as they did for eons. On this life, Pride was born in North Carolina, while Wrath was born in Colombia. They look as they could be related but their flesh was far away from being related. Pride was tall and skinny, he had many tattoos based on Star Wars and The Legend of Zelda; Wrath was short and stubby, almost physically inept. Yet, they were two of the most powerful beings in the universe, each of them able to manipulate emotions and life beyond death.
“It’s been a while my brother, how did you discovered this place?”
“Cappy’s? I used to come here when I was younger on this life. Probably one of the best pizzerias in Tampa”
“I see” Said Wrath while eating a slice of cheese.
“Do you think the population will accept the new order in world?”
“No, they will revolt again. It will happen a similar scenario that repeats itself every 110 years”
“Explain yourself” Said Pride.
“Franz Ferdinand, Kennedy, just to name a few. Humanity, even in some way we are part of it, it always finds a way to go forward, we as beings who are able to exist beyond death, beings who are agents that manipulate humanity to achieve certain future, we can’t control them, we can’t even control the outcomes” Replied Wrath while cleaning his mouth.
 “You are right, much of the time, we can only sit down and enjoy this show while we eat pizza. I wonder what is on the news right now?”
“Who knows, but I heard there is a bloody protest on Washington D.C. and Ereshkigal is having a feast of souls right now”

Wrath just simply smiled.

Wednesday, February 1, 2017

The Dharma Incentive

The Dharma Incentive

Short Story
Gustavo Simmons
There was a cosmic order between the chaos that ruled the universe; yet, dying seemed to be impossible. The memories of thousands of other lives, where we achieved conscious were still there, the problem became that a being who had no name, a being who ruled the principles of the multiverse, “the one who was above all” placed as a rule No being would remember, unless that person has achieved some form of Nirvana, even so that being was beyond the Samsara.
Why I can remember? Every single dead, every single moment of agony, the moment of birth, even so this Kami was playing a cruel joke as there was no faith, nor enlighten coming from my part. I was a man who lacked faith, a man who believed in the principles of entropy and chaos as a standalone concept beyond any divine principles; nevertheless, every single memory of my life was as a playback.
There was a catch, every single moment of reincarnation I was again myself. I was the person who was, the person who remembered from the experiences, the person who committed suicide and the person who died in the riots of 2017 while protesting in the White House on December 12th. I was sent to the same point in time, April 22nd of 1984, it was fixed, it was set, born in the same city in Colombia, born near the ocean, living the same point in time for 23 years.
23 years in which there was some form of prison, a prison without walls, just a prison with geographical boundaries. The rules of the cosmos where punishing me for something that after reliving the same moments over and over but with different outcomes before death.
Death is such a sweet treasure, is such a beautiful moment in which we are not bounded to the planes of existence, we just cease to exist on the flesh and we transform into a metaphysical concept that is just far away beyond comprehension. What a beautiful moment, indeed it is, yet birth is more painful, is such a pain; the overload stimuli is just worse than anything else.
After death, there is birth, the world is brand a new, the world is such an amazing place when you are child, still when you have the memories of a 37-year-old man inside a 7-year-old body, no one will take you seriously even if they consider you past beyond your years. What a burden is to live, but what a burden is to always remember everything, yet to live to the fullest and not to fill emotions.
Why this being that knows everything keeps punishing me? Sending me back to the same moment in time to make me have faith and “help” achieve the precious gift of death? Probably is an eternal punishment because I didn’t hesitate to take the precious gift he gave to everyone, life. I never minded, I seriously never minded life. You could take it with just a bullet, a knife or your hands. You could ruin a life by playing with someone’s emotions and feel no remorse.

I violated the Dharma; at least that is the term I like to use, the basic principles of the cosmos that were given by Lord Buddha, and they weren’t that difficult because “it” hated when someone denied his existence… I was punished because I was an offender of the Dharma, of the Commandments or whatever you want to call it.