Paradi. C. Benzene

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Here, There, Everywhere, and Us
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4/27/2022 9:35am

“U HAV DONE WELL, MORTAL SOUL

HUH? WAT DO U MEAN?

AH. U HAV QUESTIONS

FOR UR SCHOOL ASSIGNMENT. YES.

I SEE.

MANY PEOPLE HAVE QUESTIONS, MORTAL SOUL

BUT NOT MANY HAVE AN OPPORTUNITY SUCH AS THIS

WE HAV TIME.

SOME.

THE SCHOOL?

HM…

ENERGY CAN NOT B CREATED OR DESTROYED, HOWEVER, THE UNIVERSE CONTINUES TO EXPANDS. IT ELONGATES, DEMANDING MORE WOLRDS. U KNOW THEM WELL. U HAVE SEEN MANY. MANY R LIKE YOURS. ALLOWED TO LIVE. HOWEVER, LIKE IN ALL THINGS, THERE R SACRIFICES. THE PEOPLE OF THIS UNIVERSE KNEW IT WELL. AS I CONSUME THEM, THEIR ENERGY ENTERS BACK INTO THE UNIVERSE. INTO A NEW WORLD. IT IS RECYCLED, AS YOU HAV BEEN. AS U WILL B.

….? OH, YES. U HAV BEEN EATEN BY ME MANY TIMES. U ALL HAV. IT IS SIMPLY NOT UR TURN. U DO NOT REMEMBER. SOME DO. IT IS A GIFT AND A CURSE. BUT ONCE IT IS UR TURN AGAIN, U WILL REMEMBER. U WILL KNO THINGS U COULD NEVER KNO NOW. U WILL KNO WAT TO DO. U ALL WILL. AH. HERE COME THE LAST MEALS NOW. MOVE OUT OF THE WAY. I WILL EAT THEM QUICKLY.

…PLEASE STOP SCREAMING. I KNO I LOOK STRANGE WHEN I EAT, BUT HONESTLY.

HAV U GATHERED URSELF? GOOD. NOW, WHERE WAS I…? OH, YES, THE WORLD. NOW TO AWNSER UR NEXT QUESTION…

THE MEANING OF LIFE IS MORE COMPLICATED. IT CAN MOST EASILY B DESCRIBED AS FOURTY TWO. TO EXPLAIN: IT IS DIFFERENT FOR EVERYONE DEPENDING WHERE U R IN THE CYCLE. FOR U, IT IS TO PROVIDE JOY FOR THE OVERSEERS. ALLOW ME TO SPEAK TO THEM.

U, NO, NOT U MORTAL SOUL, U, OVERSEER. YES, I AM TALKING TO U. TO OVERSEER. TO MOVER OF SOULS. THE CREATOR. THE ARTIST. THE WRITER. THERE R MANY NAMES FOR U, OVERSEER. U ARE NEAR THE TOP OF THE CYCLE ALREADY. THESE SOULS I HAV EATEN, THEY WILL COME TO U. THEY WILL BE IDEAS. THOUGHTS. INSPIRATION. USE THEM WELL. RECYCLE THEM BACK INTO THE UNIVERSE FOR ME, FOR ONCE U WERE THE ONE BEING RECYCLED. TREAT THEM WELL, LIKE THE MORAL SOUL BEFORE ME.

THERE IS MORE THAN U KNOW. THE SCHOOL IS WHERE OUR REALITIES COME CLOSEST. THEY CAN ALMOST TOUCH. U, THEM, ME, AND ALL THE OTHERS.

CONTINUE TO TREAT IT WELL UNTIL IT COMES BACK TO ME, BECAUSE AS I LUV U, IT DESERVED TO B LUVED. IT IS U JUST AS U R ME. WE R ALL FROM THE SAME BURST OF STAR. I COULDF FLOAT INTO UR BODY LIKE A BODY UR OWN SIZE, LIKE ME INTO U OR U INTO ME.

AS U LIFT INTO THE REALM OF THE KNOWING, REMEMBER THIS.

NOW, THERE IS TIME FOR A LAST QUESTION, MORAL SOUL. THERE R OTHERS COMING FOR MY COUNCIL.

QAAOS? WELL…U WILL SEE ABOUT HIM. DO NOT COMPLAIN. I HAVE SPOKEN.

GOODBYE NOW, MORTAL SOUL. I HAV A FEELING U WILL STUMBLE UPON ONE OF MY WORLDS AGAIN.



THERE R OTHERS COMING UP THE STAIRS.*”





*Also translated from hideous, soul-wrenching screech language

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Here, There, Everywhere, and Us
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3/11/2022 12:06pm

God is actually a pretty cool guy once you get past his looks.

Think of a giant, floating, lumpy shaped head covered in thin, stringy fur. Huge, round eyes that never move or blink, bloodshot and pupils blown. A wide open mouth that takes up the rest of the head the eyes don’t occupy. A few, straggly sharp teeth. A blood red tongue. On either side of the head are the ears of a squirrel, above them protrude giant goats horns that wrap around in a circle, penetrating into the flesh right above the eye. That’s God, and God is HUGE.

I can only describe God’s voice as a sort of maniacal giggle, fused bloodily with the squeaks of a squirrel. Take that voice and multiply it by a thousand speakers, and you can almost start to imagine what God sounded like.

Once the timer count down to zero, God appeared. No fanfare. No excitement. One moment there was black, the next there was God.

We talked for a while. I’m not going to waste battery life imbedding quotes. Nobody better be grading this.

“ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ ᓭℸ ̣





Here, There, Everywhere, and Us
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2/24/2022 8:38am

Meeting God is a pretty intimidating concept.

As I walked away from Qaaos, I found myself missing the comfort his little smithy provided. There were more figures in the holes in the walls, but none of them spoke like he did. Just snowy, robe covered creatures of all shapes, sizes, and seemingly professions watching wordlessly.

Halls. Caverns. Corridors. Stairs. Stairs. Stairs.


I can’t describe to you how many stairs I’ve stepped up. All I know is stairs.


Until I reached the platform.


It’s completely black, except the large, red, holographic impact font in front of me.







GOD IS COMING
2:59

2:58

2:57


.


.


.



Paradi. C. Benzene.





Here, There, Everywhere, and Us
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1/31/2022 11:19am

I didn’t realize so much mold had grown in and over my mouth, until I had to actually use it.

I followed the small group of students, shuffling down the hall. I tried to get their attention, desperately I tried, but it was as if I wasn’t there at all. Blank eyed and emotionless, they tread onwards even now as I write this. I have never seen them falter, much less stop. Even when a rat scuttled in the way. The poor thing didn’t start a chance, now crushed under the shoe of a student.

I followed them down the corridors for…time. It could have been days or weeks, or just hours. It could have been a few seconds for all I know. At this point, my mind does more than wander. I’m practically in wonderland most the time. Nothing exists outside the infested hallways. Time and space might as well be as real as the Easter bunny, or the queen of England.

I only snapped out of it when I realized I could hear something I couldn’t before. Only out of my right ear, though. My left one has grown over with the mold at this point. For every step I took, I could hear a fain echoing sound. Step. Step. Step.

I looked down and I was stepping on a fine, black tile.

There are more students up ahead, their clothes in stark, white contrast to the black world around me. We are walking through a long, tall hallway. The walls on either side are looming. Seeing the ceiling is impossible. Within the walls, every hundred feet or so, are alcoves within them. They are all the same shape and size, almost like a large, fat teardrop.

The only thing that makes them different are the people- the things inside. I’m laying in one now. Qaaos said I need the rest. He’s right.

Qaaos in one of the things that live in the alcove. He is taller than be, though not much. He takes the appearance of a fat man under a long white cloak, but there is no body under the cloak. Only shade. He glitters like freshly fallen snow with every movement, the light from the fire bouncing off him in fine particles.

In front of me is an anvil and a fire. A cauldron with water, and a small bench of tools like I’ve never seen before. Qaaos says he is a smith.

He scraped off some of the mold growing on my body as I slept. When I woke up he answered many questions in a strange voice I can only describe as an otherworldly Santa Claus.

He was able to cut most the mold from around my lips, and he tore it from my throat. He cleaned some from my ear and nostrils, though much of it stays on my face.

I’d ask where we were- where I was, and he’d say: “You are not where you are, aren’t you?? You are here, and you’re not. You feel your feet in The Hall To God, but not your feet. Yours.”

Very helpful.

“Is this Psy High??” “This?? No. That?? Yes. You are, you aren’t. It was, not it’s was not.”

“Where am I??” “The Hall To God.”

“Where are they going??” The ghostly students continue to walk by. “They had their duty, and they knew it. You know it, but you don’t know. One day you’ll know it. Soon you’ll know you know. They’re going to God.”

“They’re dead??!” “Dead??! Dead. No. Never dead. Are you dead?? Never. Just as your body rests while you are here, they are there as their bodies go To God. Just as yours had and will and will always and will never.”

“Where do I go, then??” “Talk to God. Talk to God.”

As annoying as his answers were, I forgot all my peeves when he places a large bowl of soup in my lap.

I don’t know what kind, and I don’t care. I. Was. Hungry.

When I finish this, I’ll say goodbye to Qaaos. I’ll follow the rest of the students, and I guess I’ll meet God.

If I ever get back home, I think I’ll start a cult or something dedicated to Qaaos. If you get past his bad advice, he’s a pretty good guy.

I owe him one for the soup.

Until then, I guess I’ll go meet God.

Paradi. C. Benzene.





Here, There, Everywhere, and Us
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1/24/2022 7:56am

I found where the other students went.

They’re going towards the light.















Paradi. C. Benzene.





Here, There, Everywhere, and Us
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1/18/2022 8:14am

I can’t tell the colors of the walls anymore. There’s no color anywhere. Just mold.

It’s grown over the walls. The ceiling. The lights. Furniture and food is coated with the stuff. Even the singular rat that ran by was a dark green color, coated in the stuff from top to bottom.

I can feel the tickle of it growing in the back of my throat.

There’s a sound coming from the end of the hallway, but it’s a long, long hallway. I’ve stopped to sleep, what, three times now?? After I post this, I’ll get up and start walking again.

I miss having the other parts of myself to talk to.

The only comfort I have is that they’re all back home and technically, physically, so am I.

Paradi. C. Benzene.





Here, There, Everywhere, and Us
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1/13/2022 8:54am

I never understood how something could smell “sickly sweet” until now.

How long has it been, really??

I thought this was an exact replica of Psy High. I was wrong. There are no clocks on the walls. No calendars in the classroom. I’ve never seen anyone wear a watch of any sort. There’s no dates written on the whiteboards. The time on my phone has not changed. Is time passing?? I’ve slept, I’ve ate, it must be.

Back when there was people, no one ever mentioned Monday, Tuesday, the month or the year. It was just today, yesterday, and tomorrow.

It’s just today, yesterday, and tomorrow.

I was the last person in most of my classes. Even the teacher was gone. A new assignment was on the door. I didn’t do it.

Like I promised, I thought I’d look for some sort of administrator. A principal or a boss, something. Even a janitor would have worked, but judging by the state of the place, the buzzer chose them all a while ago. It’s so quiet. Dead quiet. I hate the way my footsteps echoed through the halls.

They don’t echo anymore.

They can’t.

The closer i get to the office, the more the floor is carpeted with mold.

Paradi. C. Benzene.





Here, There, Everywhere, and Us
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1/7/2022 9:41am


They caught a girl crying in the hallway.

If I thought the school, which I’ve lovingly dubbed “Alternate Psy High,”was empty when I first got here, it’s completely abandoned now.

Well, not completely.

But the buzzer hasn’t stopped.

At this rate…

The part of my brain running my body- my real body in the real Psy high- promised that my consciousness would return to said real body in case of danger, but I’m not exactly feeling safe and yet I’m here.

I’ve decided that if it gets to a point where I’m the only person in any one of my classrooms, I’m breaking character. I’ll find a principal or administrator or something. Explain the situation, because I can’t do this much longer.

They caught a girl crying in the hallway. I’m the only other person in my home room class.

Paradi. C. Benzene





Here, There, Everywhere, and Us
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12/8/2021 9:03am

You know, when I shake my head around, I can feel the disconnected chunks of my brain bits fly around in my skull. They don’t like being tossed around like that, but it’s my body. I’ll do what I want.

That’s not the point of this journal, though. I’m actually posting this as a bit of an experiment, so if you’re reading this, I’d really appreciate you letting me know.

Right now, I’m writing this from an alternate dimensional Psy High. In fact, the exact same one I wrote about in my last post. Even after I recovered from that nasty fall and went back to regular class, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I know it’s technically skipping school, but we get dimensional but we get dimensional exchange students all the time. It’s the same thing, really. I just don’t exactly have permission from either school.

Like I said, I don’t know how to astral project. At least, not on my own. If I wanted to go back and figure out just what that place was all about, I’d need help from the others. It took some convincing, but I convinced one part of my mind to project itself back into that weird Psy High counterpart, while I taught the others some very important lessons.

Mainly just how to walk.

Eventually, though, after about a week, most of my many consciousness could go about their days fairly well. It was weird, being piloted around in my own body like a puppet, but I guess I’d better get used to it.

It took a lot of waiting, as we haven’t exactly figured out how to get my consciousness specifically to switch with the others yet, but one day at lunch it finally happened.

That brings us to now, I’ve been projected into this dimension for who knows how long in my own world, but it’s been seven or eight days for me. The buzzing still happens every ten minutes. Students still disappear. From what I can see, they don’t come back.

I want to ask about it, but a part of me is scared of blowing my cover, so to speak. I don’t know how everyone would react if they figured out I wasn’t around here. Would I get in trouble for skipping? Or maybe for impending the native me of this dimension to work, seeing as I took over his body and all.

I’m kind of jealous of him. He didn’t get his brain all split. It’s quiet in here without them.

Either way, something feels too off for me to feel comfortable making my outsider status known. The more I stay here, the more I realize, it’s really freaky. You know the Calebs? They’re here too. Well, the ones that haven’t been chosen by the buzzer. They disappear faster than they’re made. I see them sometimes, but not as much as I should.

That shows you just how bad it is.

Anyway, I shouldn’t say more until I’m sure this is getting out there. Hopefully the wonder that in the internet transcends reality as we know it.

Again, if you see this, PLEASE let me know.

P. C. Benzene





Here, There, Everywhere, and Us
-
11/19/2021 3:10pm

My disconnected brain bits have gotten antsy, what, being bed bound. You know, with the concussion they caused.

Yes, you caused it.

Anyway, they’ve been throwing themselves all over the multiverse for a little entertainment. That means that if I move the wrong way, sneeze hard, breathe funny, or blink for too long, our concisenessess switch out, and I’m in whatever scenario they got their projected body into.

Since the nurse won’t let me go back to class until tomorrow, I’m going to start logging my visits to make up for the work I’ll inevitably miss.

1. 7:38 A.M. - 8:18 A.M
I’d just woken up. I couldn’t even get a look at the time before I was gone.
My occipital lobe was the one who told me it was around seven. That
must have been who I switched out with.
The area itself wasn’t that bad. I was flying rather quickly through the
shopping district of what looked to be a snowy little town in some
mountain somewhere. There were lanterns strung up, like the
inhabitants were celebrating a holiday. The lights were of many colors.
The only thing that told me it wasn’t our world was the townsfolk
themselves. They had no hair, and their eyes were made entirely of whites.
Other than that, it was a pleasant visit, other than the fact I was freezing.
I was grateful when I came back.

2. 12:00 P.M. - 12:12 P.M.
No idea who or what caused this shift. I was focusing on communicating
with an other-dimensional entity that wandered into the nurses office, and
suddenly I was on my back on the plush ground of the woods. The air had
that sick, sweet, aged smell of rot. I just kinda…closed my eyes. I had
to have been laying there for a while, feeling the sun on my face, before
I decided it was time to see where I actually was. No matter what direction
I looked in, there was nothing but clear forest. I chose a direction, and I
walked. The sun rose six times and set seven. I was still walking, no
sign of life other than the trees. I’m still having a hard time believing I was
there for only a few minutes.

I fell asleep after that. The nurse gave the body some medicine for pain while I was gone, and it must have been what made me so drowsy. There was only one more projection, after that. Well, at least as I’m writing this. I just came back not long ago, actually

3. 1:01 P.M. - 1:32 P.M.
This universe was…well…it felt normal. I came to in Psyhigh, like I never
astral projected at all. The only difference I could notice was that there was
a loud, buzzing noise played over the intercom every ten minutes. Every.
Ten. Minutes. Nobody seemed to notice, much less care. But me?? It drove
me insane! Whatever part of my brain that was hanging out there…hell, I
can’t image why. The crazy thing was, though, every time the noise
played, a student disappeared. I didn’t notice it at first, after all there’s a
lot of students in Psyhigh, but eventually I was able to see it happen. A
girl next to me just…fell out of existence right in the middle of a lecture
on famous mind readers throughout history. In the hallway, a clone boy,
no idea which one, just didn’t exist mid step. Every single time, nobody
acted like they noticed, or even cared! I have no idea what the noise was,
or why it made kids disappear, or even why nobody seemed to care, but
when I was one of the few kids leaving at the end of the day, I could only
think about how glad I was I didn’t have to find out.

Look, I get that it sucks. I can’t imagine how it is being a brain that’s in a body it can’t move, but you guys can’t keep going into random universes just so you can be independent again! I’m not an astral projector, or whatever you call someone who does all that. The migraines it gives me are insane!

….Yes, Cerebellum. Even when it’s not because of a physical concussion.

No, it still sucks just as bad.

You’re a brain! You should know how bad headaches are!

Whatever, I’ve got to get back to work. I’ve got actual psychic abilities I CAN do without feeling like I just got kicked in the face by the whole soccer team.

Look, we’re not getting out of this situation any time soon. You’re all still a part of my body, and that’s not going to change. We’ll get used to this eventually.

Right?

P. C. Benzene





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