Monday, November 22, 2021

Corelian Traveler Intro

 It is the year 1976 August 15th, on a Sunday clear night in Florida a TR3B takes flight across the Gulf coast to code in the Calypso to the shores of south Miami en route to the Panama Canal and headed after towards a turbulent Bermuda Triangle. Radio signals disappear in a nucleic electrical maintenance blackout in the state reserves. Jimmy Carter becomes president. Migrations come in waves into cities. The world awaits a sign of relief.

 A baby was born in the spring of a third-generation family in the US as a whole in the nation's capital after riots and the resurrection of the city with pockets of despots and underground motors running like clockwork for the generous mysterion. Prophets and prophetic elders aligned their counsels in their clerical works and doings and dispatched systematically a new era of continental traveling for the people. 

Siblings watch over the eyes of the baby and speak in words that he doesn’t understand only to be washed by the ears of the mother in warm salt baths to prevent sickness and other remedies. The family was poor yet widely appreciated by the community of civil rights and yet the ’80s was only 3 years away and the year after Reagan became president. The baby was already walking into trouble with a fall and rise to many occasions even for a stitch on a broken chin. The neighborhood of unrest for decades later. 

Sometimes it said it's the things we think we know for sure to fool us all. The ’80s picked up schoolers and exaggerated outcomes of the 70’s sex life into the high fast life of the wicked peak of pop culture social facade for drugs. I remained steadfast watching from all corners. Opening the eyes of toleration and determination of mad ambitions. I stepped out the door and what looked like a homeless man with a 34-year coin in his hand said his family was lost and drank himself to oblivion. I leaned out to see who it was. It was a former military fellow high ranking officer who ventured into the Vietnam war with ended up at the doorstep of Manhattan with declarations of rewards.

 Seconds later a pre-teen gypsy-like angelic girl passes by with a doll in one hand and just stares at the man and goes over to him holding his hand. She said, “don’t worry I know where he needs to go. ‘Sandy let's get coffee’”. He gets up, thank god, and moves on with the girl to another set of steps talking to a man at the door. Bringing out coffee and conversations and bringing him in, the girl gets her money and walks over to the candy store. Her mother was waiting very frail and sick-eyed for the attention of other men. I thought the outbreak of hepatitis A was done. 

What now? People are still dropping like fleas. The conscious topographic mind trip of civilization in flames in NY was dismounting from smokes in the Bronx redline fires. What now? Can’t get a grip for every second. It’s time for a job, a real hike. I walk towards the metro and wind up taking a train to the Pentagon and call my RnR off the hook for good.

It’s the year 2099. To see my gravesite dismantled but the story monumentally remains in still waters. An urban fortune teller begins to breathe in and out meditations in millions of colors of breaths running out of control into a lucid screen on the street at night. It’s after a nucleic gas explosion that decimated most of Washington DC. Probably a resurrection crisis or an engineer malfunction. Do dead cities turn out this way like they did in NY? How do we define what’s there and what’s not? Where do we go from here? How do we take more risks in getting lost with the ones we would love?.. Will this time dimension take us to the right universe? These questions I held back for days without guidance but in solemn prayer over wonder or ego. These ideas have to be smashed eternally.

Just above my hair raises and neon cycles above an airlift sedan come closing in. Must have been a rich decadent or someone I’ve helped along the way. He gets to port A61 radio re-charge. Bats and other critters prop out of the exposed engine in the back and steamed Thorium mini crystal-like rain as it embarked. “Christ, where have you been?”, “we’ve been waiting for you for a little while and wanted to know if you wanted to have a drink with us on the archangel’s flagship?” I said “Where’s that? I have no idea where..” he held his hand out interrupted and said “don’t worry it’s not a wet ship like the ones you witnessed in Florida back in the ’70s in all honesty”, in all honesty, what does this guy think I am a whimsical clown ready to act on a board of many like myself no way am I getting sold on that. “She’s waiting to see you inside”... I shut up and like a fool for taking an RnR I was sold by his courtesy and compassion. 

In the Corellian code of Kor, we left on a good start with fighting the enemy hand-to-hand combat and taking the rest of the galaxy but this time we’re dealing with sea anemones of the planet diced in half taking part of the wormhole of existence. I followed the chap and felt that I was a bit peeved about the occasion and remained calm, cool, and collective.

It was an IDF bounty hunter sending me to reflect on carbon damages on an off-world twin planet, but in another universe and decided to drop me off in Kabul in 1984. My pod crashed on a hill. I was torn up a bit dying from the outside in. I wasn’t too clear-eyed either. But not toxically from the inside. My shield reflector kept my eyes safe and a staunch military grunt looked over at me with a lady taking off her helmet and scarves and they said “Welcome to war. If you stay here you will be fucked by the Muhammadan scouts..” “trust me they will find you quicker than..” “Let's go '' the meatheaded man said..” no time to lose for this fucker”.. Sounded Russian. Still apprehension after the crash landing and rockets flying over the mountain heavy artillery fire and machine gunfighting. Juggernauts running with Vulcan gunfire. This was too much!” Am I still on earth?” “Yes” as the voice wandered down the valley. “You didn’t get too far” I’m starting to get my senses back… ok maybe that coffee was needed and I didn't say the right thing to my driver. Whether he’s dead or locked in the barge in space. I gotta get back to the pentagon. But how? I was later carried by a cot onto a chinook and saw some of the action from above. I was back on base then later back on the pentagon in a holding cell. I was still breathing but in pain due to the injuries and vaccinations. 

A cardinal approached the door talking to a high-ranking officer. They both looked at the portal window and shut it. It became dark and I was screaming in my head without knowing. I heard laughter, the kind that pierces the soul, in disorientation and without devices. Completely stripped of my navigation. Defecated in a straight jacked for days and nights. Chatter comes closer to the door.

In quiet moments the blinds automatically open above and the door portal slings open. “Corellian gets up, we're taking you to the docs for colonoscopy.” “What the fuck you lock me in here and take me to do an anal probe? Fuck no!” “‘tension tension’ that’s not the way a priest will handle you” “Where am I? Where am I!!!!” I convulse into a fetal I just want to know where I am.”

“Eyes wide open welcome to the stellar zone distance 50 km towards Alpha Centauri where all the travel guides have been waiting to see you” “Who are you?!” “I know where Alpha Centauri is” Which universe am I in today? Where did you drop me?

“You're back where you left in 2099 but just only 300 years after.””We’ll clean in you in the cryo station department” “No pod escape on this flight” ”You’ll be fine” I felt cold ease on my neck and was knocked out for a day. I woke up in the middle of my sleep feeling it harder to breathe. As plasma fills my lungs with puro oxygen”. I slept more and got on the verge of dreamland.

Alpha Centauri Qi 31 is the portal of time-traveling planets and the rising of so many resurgent fellowships. I’ve never dreamed of coming to this point in the future until now. What a dream and what a world. The view from the osprey on the planetary drop of flying geese in the heights in flocks being torched by a cast of gigantic proto-pterodactyls. The civil war still exists but that’s 80% covered anything that could happen in a siege of a city for 100’s of years here as if watching a Russian ballet drop a nutcracker suite on the phantom opera in mars the convergence of a new violet planet illusion. Colors are emphatically seen differently after Mars colonization and the way we see things after visualizing all the wars that had passed as if the former diagnosis of Post-traumatic symptoms have been eradicated and TBI restored to computing virtual mending diagnostics. It still has its parts of greens and greys hills and murky waters with sturgeons all underneath the surfaces. It is definitely surreal. 

I was getting hungry and thirsty for more time traveling. I talked to the portal panelist and they directed me to the mess hall deck beyond the observation deck showing landing signs of turbulence I held on. “We’re not going too far” “The skies the limit” another bolt of lightning hits the thrusters and is repaired quickly in time to embark on the planet for traveling business. But we have to make it really quick before anything else. I have to make it back to 2099 on earth to complete my coverage of the ’80s otherwise we’d lose Rachel to overdose, which most of the teens back then had done anyway. What is one versus the many that had been prophesied? Besides, those billions were lost to wars, diseases, and pandemics afterward.

 I had my first cup of coffee in such a long time. The bean of that coffee was potent and thick as a fist. I could drink it right out of the bean-like coconut. But instead was a compositionally 3D generated flavored coffee liquid bean that tastes like chicory and Ojibwa tea combined. Very strong rustic taste. They say if you drink too long of the fruit your eyes will change colors and your mind will go wild.

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