Prison Earth

I like to imagine Earth as a giant prison, and God or these angels placed our souls into these advance prison uniforms called bodies. These bodies are hideous. Trapped between these gooey organs, and water, covered by soft fleshy pink skin. I once remember having eagle vision, gather all the scents from a single galaxy, and finding a soulmate was much easier because when I was free, we were all full of love, and with our strong bonds, the sex felt a thousands times orgasmic than on earth. No longer does the food taste good on Earth, since I remember, but this suit and the foods’ chemicals force me to consume more of it until this pink sack of smooth muscle called a stomach could no longer hold anymore.

Not only do these prison suits dull the soul’s senses, but also limits the soul’s abilities. We can no longer teleport by merely thinking to the Niagara Falls to hear and smell the rushing clear waterfalls. We can no longer sail into the mysterious dark cosmos to the red dust ball known as Mars, or see the icy rock known as Plato. Home, I miss home. This white beacon of light. So warm, and so loving. We use to gather there to hear stories from the wisdom of our elders. When I felt lost, the elders would kindly smile, and tell me that everything will be ok, which is much different than hearing it here in this cold prison.

I wonder what I really looked like after I leave this prison suit. Maybe, I was a beautiful warm light with the figure of a female. I had large blue eyes that if you were to look into them, you would see thousands upon thousands of seas. I had plump red cherry lips that shined the fierce passion from my radiant soul heart. If you were to see my spiritual body here dancing on earth, you were have thought that you saw a fairy, finally believing in that childhood magic you once had.

Now, I just moped, hidden behind numb facial muscles that forgot how to move. This earth heart keeps beating, but why? I can feel the red blood cells creeping through-out my body like insects burrowing through its home. My brain won’t shut down. I hate it, I love it. My soul hates that my brain won’t shut down, but the brain tricks me into thinking that I need it.

“I am a gift.” it says, “I give you logic.”

“I keep you from danger, isn’t that great?,” it continues, “I’m the one who gives this creativity to type the very words on this computer screen.”

“But,” I shutter, “you make me remember the other prisoners who hurt me.”

“Make me re-experience this pain over and over again,” I ranted on, “I should shoot you.”

“Foolish,” it laughs, “I control you.”

“I’m what gives you this survival instinct, hurt me or any other organ, and I will give you more pain.” It promised.

“Hurt me either farther than I the pain I give, then you wouldn’t be able to use the services that I provide,” It said, “Then you’ll be worse off than you were, and I’ll make sure that you live, so you’ll regret the day that you shot me.”

I sigh, and lay in bed. Leaving was harder than I thought, and if it isn’t my body nagging me, it’s the prison guards, or sheepie stopping me from leaving. When the angels placed us in these advance prison suits, they made to erase our memory the best they could, so we wouldn’t know what was on the other side. If we truly remembered, then we would all be trying our darnest to leave. To add more to this layer, the angels were able to design even more advanced prison suits to those souls who were selected to keep others here on earth, known as the prison guards. They had a pecking order. The highest ranking ones ran the earth’s governments. They set laws to keep us in line, and subliminally used techniques to brainwash other prisoners such as lower ranking prison guards who were probably police officers, doctors, and psychologists, and other good professions and the sheepie. The sheepie are the average folks still under the prison’s mind control, and thought that remaining in this prison was good because that was what they were told,

The average folks like myself that truely knew what was going on in this world are the awakens. Another ranking within the awakens are those who try to take action to escape prison Earth, to leave their prison suits. They are the suicidals. We remember what life was like beyond this physical realm. The angels and prison guards have done there best to control us, but we still know whether consciously or sub-consciously that there is a better world, and we are not afraid to pursue it. Home awaits.

(Yeah guys, this one slipped out of mind.) (So what do you think?) (Was this story stupid, am I crazy? What?)