The lull of deception

To you, dearest audience, I am really terrible sorry, that I have not updated my blog for many a days. But the reason, as it will be given today, is scandalous and frightening. I have neither been at my work, nor near any kind of technology. Quite the contrary indeed. Where I last left you standing, in the darkness, beyond the borders of my office, just to peek inside. What you see might be a horror, Beatrice, or a saint, me at my desk. We all know that I was set up by this, the woman in red, as it is beyond me to kill anyone. Her death, in untimely event in the progress of work distribution, need not to be calculated as a bad thing. Even though her job was easy, and she did it right, I have always been best at tending my cases and files myself. This was a new opportunity to set the world deeper into the palm of my hand. But first I had to think, had to revive myself: locate the energy, I had before, and in that matter use it to the fullest in my workcycle.Fuel, food, waste products well organized the human body need as intake optimizing the power of mind and body.

When you last left me I was in a good place, and had the comfort of my office, and I slept there; slept long and deep, until noon on the next day. I woke up so hungry, so much in need of what I have described above, this meal that makes my body fit and able. It was a deep hunger, one that craved protein, meat and all the roasted finesse ever made to be upon me. It would be expensive, yes, and it would be a feast in itself just to make the order. How was I, man of normal body build, be looked upon, with such a prominent dinner. I craved deeper, longed more, so determined upon the hunger, that no work could be done, much to my regret. I felt like a dinosaur, in the need for a fresh carcass, roaming the grounds around which I had always dominated. Roaring out into the deep blue sky, only being answered by those of my kin. If there were any of those. Only silence answered my roar as I stood on the highest vulcano, upon the eye of the world, the greatest mountain to ever be. It was said, that even the greatest mountain, could dissolve itself by fire, and turn the world in its cycle. A vulcano. My roar would still these fires as long as my work itself was done. It was important that this world did not falter, as those of ancient beings did, and it would not as long as I kept standing. and I would always stand! as long as my line would succeed, and as mentioned earlier, by our new methods I would be able to do so, carefully choosing my heirs personal traits without ever bringing my body to defilement.

Stepping gently, silently and in stealth around the long lost body of Beatrice, in its start of decay, I made my way towards the door of the world. I would enter it, the mountain, and conquer it. I firmly pressed the tip of my index finger against the small button "lobby" and awaited my reception, where only I could be king. It would be no serious offence that of the killing, someone, I would have to give permission to go up there, only to prey. He would find the body, and pray with the headless decaying corpse until I told him to stop. Only then would he be a willing minion, able to clean out my mess for me.

There was no trance, no stopping in thoughts, only the growling, rumbling of a stomach waiting, wanting. Like a mewling child it kept pouring forth thoughts of dismay, crying until I almost stood throbbing with pain. I could not reflect on how vast the emptiness inside me had been, and the moments where my thought touched on the topic, I was reminded, in my mind's eye, about the horrible ending I had come to in my trance state. I had been emptied of everything, and laid bare, just to be filled with a horrible metal, as an empty shell ready to be filled. Was I that? No. I was just as hungry, that my numbers would fit, and soon I and it would be satisfied, and again I would be king of the mountain. I would be able to do the duty no one else was able to. Beyond law, beyond satisfaction.

There was no one in the lobby, even at midday. Not even Tom could be spotted, but I allowed him to have a break from one time to the next. I strolled through, out in the street and headed straight for the Restaurant of the Trinity. It was not a normal stroll, but a pushing controlling walk letting none fill my path, controlling the masses around me, setting up quite enough speed to arrive at the restaurant within moments rather than minutes.

A new waiter greeted me, and I got my usual seat a bit away from where the crowd filled the place. It was a strong thought of omnipotency that cast itself to me, as I sat on this place, looking down on the ignorant crowd where none had any idea of how many strings I pulled, even in this room, at this time. I smiled deviously narrowing my eyelids only to a flicker of sight. How I enjoyed this. This sensation was halted immediately as everyone suddenly sat in silence with mouths of miscontempt, pointed staight at me. The sockets of their eyes almost bulging with hate that they didn't even know of. I was disgusted to see that they had noticed my powerful look on them, and bewildered that they did not bow to their master, but instead were forming a revolution of the mind. I ignored it outwardly, but inward I could not hold the grimace I had, and called for the waiter, to fill this hole of hate I had suddenly gotten. Sudden images in all this blurred my mind, and the walls were red as blood, dripping ever again with the words.. The words of meeting in Soho. It flicked on and off. On and off

Then out of the street a lady entered, like no lady had entered before.A devilish posture showed the true intends of murder and passion, which no man would be able to resist. Her deviant smile glowed before me as her eyes of burning passion and lies quickly glanced on these underlings of her power. My eyes could not turn away from her no matter how her I tried, her aura so powerful, I had to gulp in every impression of her black dress which fitted tight to her divinely created body. She walked with elegant strides swaying her body to the motion of the wind that breath created, till she stood in front of my table. She gave me no momentum to speak. Her voluptuous form gave the black dress upon the red wall a movement resembling the dance of fire. Her delirious tone resonated only through my mind before it exited her delicate lips

“I shall please you by accompanying you at this table.” Her eyes fluttered as she looked in a surveying manner

I was dry of words, as I had never been before. No woman had held it like this one could, and oh how the hate and envy boiled inside me. She had cuffed me into silence, and now I was bound already. She had taken the pleasantry already placing her body on the seat without even asking.  The background became foreground, and no tapestry or letters could be seen, just from the bare glance that she produced. It was an odd situation, where she just sat in silence, with the smile of mischief, waiting for me to do something. An odd moment because no one else were staring my direction anymore; why didn’t anyone else notice? The beauty was utopian. And then.. The next is impossible to accept, but you must know. It really did happen! At least some of it.

Her kiss was deep and longing. A sucking slowly filled into the kiss as her tongue drove around unimaginary sensitive to the touch. It felt as if she was prolonging the moments for every second passing by.  As her hands moved like snakes that would entwine the body of their prey, he could only sit transfixed resisting the moans of desire she let upon me. It was her tongue, her body and her essence. A moving point of sensitivity to show the true meaning behind passion to which there was no ending. At last my will crumbled I let out the moan she had been building up within me, her true intend was here and not in the passion she expressed.

From this I woke, as in a dream, already in the middle of the moan, but only to the staring eyes of the audience - the whole restaurant was looking again, as I was moaning to myself, with her eyes into mine, but she had never moved from her position. Still she sat, her smile having changed little but to a fiendish grin that spread slowly. To taunt me! My rage inside was even deeper, and I would not accept this, this abomination to cause such a ruckus. She would not be seen by them, as I was, but I saw her and that would give me power in this situation. Maybe enough power to win her over, win over time and let my work be fulfilled.

By the time the waiter came back to me with the food she had already managed to disguise her fiendishness into what ladylike looks she had. At that moment the waiter gazed to her and she looked directly back into his eyes, his gaze became a glare where only his eyes were in hers, almost jumping out of his skull, for her to devour delightfully. A part of her craved for attention  by others; there was no doubt. The waiter automatically without question turned and went off, not even sparing a thought towards me! This was my domain and this new novice of a waiter had already given up on me. New thoughts fluttered into my occupying it, as the hunger had, this time the hunger was not toward the food but instead on this deviate beauty which was here in front of me. Still I felt the need and urge to eat, and did so, just with her watching me, never falling and never admitting defeat. 

The shadows around me extended their grasp from the single candlelight on the table.  They had taken hold of every person around, to make every figure like the devil himself: Impish looking people making devilish postures around him fiddling fearful gazes.

I would not be played with. I found a sudden darkness from within myself, thoughts of numbers raised. System within chaos, calculated and logical to understand. I could be isolated in this sphere I had created.  She was just gazing, mentally moving her figures around like pawns on the chess board, all these surrounding the king to call for checkmate. I knew that Choice wasn’t on my side in this mind game, and a last stand of light had to be called to resist this darkness coming upon me and my habits. I halted with the devouring and folded my hand to a judging posture while looking down to consider the situation. She, on the other hand looked up in those moments, taking a full deep analyzing look at me, as the snake she were, her strangling grasp had made me lose his habit at this moment, but only for me to resist her complete takeover. ‘Checkmate’ she pronounced as the candle gave in fulfilling the darkness into the restaurant.

Kicking herself forward from the chair and over the table, no moment could be spared. I had calculated part of this move, as she of course would make the first one. I had to be prepared. I reached down to press myself against the table pushing myself and my chair backwards, my back landing on the floor. A quick roll and I was on my stomach, ready to leap anywhere that could offer a chance for safety. She had launched her own body on the table and stood there ready to jump on me, and win me over. To her surprise, I am sure, I crawled beneath her, under the table, grasping for my own calm. I thought deep and long about my office, my desk and everything it possessed. I gave control, and I could notion a sigh of relief as my professional mind was returning.  As the fears slowly was devoured by what sanity I had left, another unknown instance moved in on me; Or under me. It was something dark and gloomy, like an infinite hole in the floor, bubbling and sizzling, awaiting. Slowly I was sinking into this puddle that the floor had changed into. The seal of calm was broken letting panic arise in through my body again. Mind and body first going into spasm, then numb. Nauseous feelings flooded me from the feet up like a stream going into the vast ocean of fear.

 At the point where it reached the stomach, it started turning and moaning in need of relief to the bowels. When the head was reached all I could feel was craving for air, as I went below, my stomach stopped turning. A mind game, where torture was a way to relieve the pains from inside. In a distopic order I could now could see the table I had crawled under, was falling, falling forever from dreams and back into reality.There was no was of intervening with this, and I  floated upon this ride,  and could spot the freeway of thoughts as a readymade tube of goon and gazes for the spectator to enjoy before reaching the debts of hell. Final destination was called and here the elevator stopped. The table was burning under me as I landed on it. The warmth that heated my body with the fires of hell, created in the womb of human fears was now the thing that led to inevitable peace and torture at the same time. There the demon spawn lady stood before me as the only person that had ever existed in this world of reality where I before was ‘king’

In the moments that felt like forever, where he had looked into the eyes of the she-devil succubus, I had been chained to the table where the fires razed. She slowly crawled up onto the table to show her true nature and guise horns beginning to protrude, emerging more and more from her forehead. At last lying on top of me, I succumbed to her kiss and let my body turn to ashes in the grip. Calling out her name as the true kiss had told. she gave me to the ashes of the world where I should be lost forever – riding on the wind of human lust to where blood reigned.

The aftermath

It was an utter defeat, succumbing to the lies and deceit of some madman's dream, and actually believing it was real. I have heard that monotone movements of light, repeatedly, against the ocular receptor, could cause a state of trance. Not only a state of trance as though, but have a hypnotic effect, with the subjects own thoughts changing the perception of reality. A single drop of water, in daydreaming could have such a fatal effect on the causality in the patterns of thoughts, spiralling towards complete chaos within the subconscious state the subject is not caught within.

Although this took all night to learn, I am again my healthy sure footed self, able to manage my tower through the office, ready to beat another day; hopefully without any disrespect and disregard to the sublime authority, I stand as, among the minor species. I had my phone by hand as a magic weapon to wield; dialed numbers in quick succession, reaching the topmost dungeons. My true essence and being unfolded as I wore my weapon of choice firmly attached behind my ear: the Bluetooth headset. I swung around words in a fierce battle, were I the worlds greatest nation, and those I let my power expurgate upon, are but weak nations , devised for my cleansing from them their filth and uselessness.

For this I was made, and could continue as long as time itself prevailed. In this case time only prevails as long as there are any minions to put forth froth and wrath until they obey and muster to my every command. I get them running, mentally, physically, existentially, slowly turning them into soulless forms, no eyes, and no head. only the body need to obey my every command, to be sure that success and imminent victory will be upon us.

With victory at hand I could give the cheering crowd their knights and crosses, special commendations, and send them on their way home to their wives and children. The hours of battle always takes its toll and some must pay, at least one or two ends up in the ditch, descending one or two floors down to represent a new lesser power, which I control.

Just as I had packed every document of importance and stacked the rest reading for further sorting by Beatrice, my decadent master of cleaning, and was ready to leave,
‘Edward there is someone waiting for you in the lobby’ the almost unused machine of communication roared at me, in a light voice from none other than Beatrice.

I jumped, still affected by the events from yesterday, and depressed of sleep, I just wanted to head home. But this, an uninvited, unscheduled statement coming across to me so unnatural, that was unusual indeed. It could be the woman in red, that friend of Frida probably wanting to argument for her sex, swaying her body, trying to trust her tactful movement into a position of lust, in hope of my male fitness would take over, and listen to her sway. Ah what and what a surprise I will give her, disguising my own disgust at her while pretending to be swayed until the last moment. In that moment I give her a mental knockout sending her straight of the door and back to the street where she belongs. I believe such behavior only should be with hookers, and am sure she would be a good one at that, and not inside my building, or lot!

I went out and gave Beatrice a nod as well as my leftover documents for further storing. "have good evening, I need you to file these before you go, and dust off my office of course." I gave her an apologetic smile as I passed, but in my mind it was sinister, and deadly. The doors to the elevator opened and I stepped in, immediately noticing a redecorating of the interior. Instead of gazing upon me suit and the container in the front mirror, I now stood facing an ancient picture of a lively landscape with a castle in the background. After all the wear and tear on my body and mind I could not have been a pretty sight, after all, I am no machine. Tom must have thought of it, knowing that I did not leave yesterday night. 

After the doors of the elevator shut, a matter of minutes went, before the elevator started moving down. These extra minutes caught me unaware, and as best I could I began spending time noticing what the picture really depicted. It was painted with close resemblance to any antique painting. Especially the castle stood out, I could imagine those masons to be true to their work and never back down until the job was finished. No need to go to the family before that, no need to do anything but a good deed, and perfect workmanship. Perfect all in all. 

I thought it was a flick of my imagination, or well it was, or the reflection of the buttons on the elevator side, but it seemed that there was lights inside the halls of the castle. It drew my eyes even closer, forgotting everything around me, in those moments, I was enthralled by what happened inside the frame. It seemed there was a gathering in a lighted room, the warmth almost oozing out in steady gazes on my clothes, only the kind fire sustained. 

Lobby level was reached and the elevator doors opened behind me, and as I was about to turn, I am sure I heard a whisper, through a cold win, chilling me to the bones, a direct opposite to the warmth of the elevator. In it I heard a voice, which seemed almost like something or someone I had heard before. "remember" it whispered and was gone, still the words lingered in me crawling through me veins, touching every nerve found from the neck and up.

I turned to the echo of the forgotten voice but no one was to be seen except the Tom, his pale face iridescent in the clinical lighting

“Ahem! Tom where is the guest, I was called down to meet?” I asked sternly, but still with a slight smile t my face, now that it was Tom I was adressing. Somewhat a true pose I had given him there. Tom just stood still with a dull glace looking at me like I was some kind of freak! Unacceptable

“Tom snap out of it. This is working hours after all”.

“She went up” Tom snapped back at me mopping harder on the floor, at last turning around and going for the front door in silence.

He must have been delirious. Nobody would go up while I was going down. There was only one elevator to my room. Maybe there hadn't been any woman at all. All this was very odd. Things today had begun to take an odd turn as it had done the other days. I decided this was enough and strolled out to my driver, marching past Tom giving him a slightly calculating look before entering the car.

I headed home and into bed after a quick shower. Refreshing.

The Machine - The Womb

Part of me have no wish of acknowledging these unfortunate turns of events. These small depositions of mental instability within my household, my castle, which by some odd cause, is spreading like a disease, to all that are near the lobby. The cause of mental maladies, are all constructed by man himself. The man who hides behind his own walls, rots within them, and let the lunacy created from greed and desire, locked so deep inside. Of course someone can happenstance bring the key, to unfold the many lighted nightmares which could be hidden within these walls, bit there should be no one able to carry such a key. Oneself as a person should be the only able to break the chains of insanity, free the suppressed, .and conquer their world. In our world, it is unaccepted, leads to external chains instead of the internal ones.

I am touching the subject of mental illness, because, as I start out, more cases have sprung into plain sight during the weekend. Friday and Sunday were a mess, where I had to send home Bill and Paul. They were engaged in a fistfight, disturbingly through more than half an hour before I arrived to see the pure anarchy which the fistfight had produced. Many of the upper floor employees stood and cheered on the different contestants, their hands raised high and the bodies in tune, and motion as one single entity. The information as to what happened, and between who, had surpassed me completely, and as I drew up, drew through and drew in, I saw the horrifying sight. Of notice, is it that nobody moved to let me through, as their superior, but I understood why afterwards. I sent the whole floor home for the weekend, and let them have the day without pay, ensuring them that if this happened again, I could only foresee a firing of at least one floor. That did quiet them down. And thus the shepherd has moved his herd to safe pastures yet again.

Having sent my flock of sheep to their home-pastures, their families and loved ones, the Saturday was whole as a great meal could ever be. Again, the time through the lobby was breathtaking, as Tom did his work for the 5'Th time that I'm sure off. So hard laboriousness in person should be rewarded, I will get him some new cleaning material for the next week. He would love that! Now that Frida is gone, it is his duty to be my eyes and ears down at ground level, and so far he has not disappointed. The void would be no near to what my building was experiencing in the corridors that weekly bustled with life, I could nest here and no one would come to take it from me. But that would not happen.

I felt watched. As eyes on me were sprouting from every opening, within and out of the building. They searched my body, but they drove inside me, more than searching. That locked cage they were searching for.

And here we go back to the start. I have no cage of desire and lust, glutton and greed. I have lived to the fullest, as a better man than any other, and that is why I explained THEIR cage to you. No such thing is needed, as I fulfill every need I have. My needs are just different, I know. Better, beyond that of mere beings who need to reproduce to fulfill their overall fitness. My fitness is eternal, as my memory shall be!

There really was no need to worry, and with those thoughts they disappeared, those eyes. None were watching but me, and I was watching. Watching humans. Watching their lives, as free as they could be in the weekends, strolling through the parks, smiling. "True smiles" I could only mumble. I had my devious smile firmly mounted on my face. They were not eternal these ants, and would soon returning to the queens to do the bidding. Slaves to society, slaves to themselves. They are forever bound in the human cycle - Animal cycle to be more precise - when they really seek to break it they are doing quite the opposite

This is where we get to Sunday. My driver took me to the entrance, as any usual day, where nothing unusual would happen. I got into my Tower and walked down my beautifully carved floor, greeting Tom with my usual "Hey Tom", while I fidgeted with the keys to the elevator, turning my attention to Tom's doings on this day. He had not answered me with anything but an unsatisfied grumble. As an old man about to loose balanced, or a younger one who had had the air knocked out of him, Tom stood leaning on a broom heaving his body up, trying to stand straight. It seemed he failed and slumped down again, his spine ended in unusually curved position as he stood there. I lifted my brow slightly and entered the elevator.

Even though my elevator itself is not designed to stop at any other floors, I have installed counters visualizing every floor I go past, just to enhance the visual feeling of going up. The atmospheric friction caused by going upwards, by the pull down. An exotic feeling I would never miss to have each and every day. As any other day I stood watching as each new floor was reached, turning over the floor in my mind's eye, with a satisfying glee, seeing just what I had been able to build, and to lead.

Suddenly the elevator lurched into a stop between two of the floors, collapsing my whole line of thought in a matter of moments. I stood in silence at the time being, while the light in the elevator seemed to have some slight power failure. It was blinking on and off, at regular time intervals, 2 blinks, one long silence and 2 blinks again.

Even though this shouldn't be any existing floor, the doors opened automatically. I thought that as convenient, as I then wouldn't have the need of help. Outside all was in grey, long halls aligned as a parking lot, all concrete. It was a long passage with individual stalls, each one probably fitting 6 cars. The air was moist and damp, with the feel of a thunderstorm having just passed, droplets passing down in small puddles evenly spread along the pathway to the other end. The lot was all empty. Or almost, at the end stall, directly opposite me, I could spot an outline of something; or someone. At first there had only been the sound of the droplets ringing to the puddles, causing the ripples to spread out as long as the puddles could spread. Now; a dark clanginng sound resonated along the wall. No sound of concrete, but rather the sound of metal scraping against metal, as a dreadful eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee rrrsschh that would start over once it finished. I called out in a mundane tone, no intonation of fright. It was dreadful, unpleasant even, but frightened I was not, for this being which stood so far away, there would be no need of that.

"Hello? Anyone there? Who.. who are you, what is your position in this building?"

I had retreated a couple of steps in the calm silence that entered the fray, moving back into the elevator to push the "up" button. Just one more floor would be enough for my salvation of this irrelevant area of my building. The lights were only in the parking lot outside the elevator now. I noticed. It was as if the elevator had stopped breathing, stopped living.

All lights went out except a single one in the other end. I could only see the humanoid figure, not quite able to see it in the blur. At least it wasn't moving.

The lips moved and like crystals every fragment of them, if they indeed were angled and not polished bare, reflected the light against me. No words came, at least not I could see, but something happened. I must have been under trance because at that point the elevator faded. The room faded and I suddenly stood facing her blankness. It was as though, we here had a woman, which was not a woman, but a metal statue living and breathing. At this point she talked. She told me something which made no sense, not even an enemy within the corporate would call out this nonsense at me. Her voice even more metallic than human, what a prank to call on me!
“You are one of few, of many, of ours to be bound upon the laws of those unprotected by gods. You are no more man than any woman and less human than any. Embrace us. Embrace the truce we are bound by in the existence and become what you have denied for eternity.”

I met her gaze in a cool gaze, which she in every way mirrored as I saw my own image in her whole face. In this moment, I admit, I felt weak, as something burned into me, let my lips touch with the cold unreal. I would never allow such a thing, but in my moment of weakness it happened. And it burned... For a long time... I just stood blinded by the situation

It really felt as something reached deep inside of me, and my eyes, damn those eyes, do not usually deceive, but here, in this situation, I would call hoax on them. I will explain

A spike formed itself from her body, naked as she stood there, nothing but grey colours. It was an indescribable mass that moved from her stomach and into mine, stopping only to grow inside. Growing till all the torso of her body was a drill complete working onto me through me and  into the pavement behind me. Blood began to flow like every river should, when you breach the dam, welling outside my body like life were running out.

 My screams of agony went through the hall while my mind which now was clouded in red images of my own innards creeping up against the walls splattering themselves to fill them.  At last the movement came to be metal upon metal as she now was part of me. I felt empty, like cold hard steel had filled me through sheer froze, freezing my hearts exterior and hollowing my body completely. 

I can only think of this as a dream, because I was still completely in a conscious state of mind. There was nothing left of what would be called body, hence my consciousness floated above the body of what had been me, but no longer was. There was every lining of organ and muscle, a sight of horror, the skin invaginated for me to look upon. Nothing humane was left of my body. I felt hollow even though I was not in my own body. Hollow? Can you imagine? that is not possible. My world is full. But a felt hollow, and devoid of purpose with my current state. I needed something more. Such a ridicule to me!

Like a pang of light - a divine intervention haha! and suddenly I was inside my own body again. I felt dreary, I must admit, felt as though the skinning had been made with perfect precision. It felt as real as anything ever could, this illusion. I was bound, enchanted by such a workmanship created in deceit. Had I, the master, become the slave of thoughts made by me? or her? I could not say, or see clear on this matter, neither give it further thought in this moment. 

The realization and thoughts of this kind, took me back to who I was. where I was. My eyes were closed, but sacrificing a true effort I could slid them open, seeing blurred images. At the bottom of the elevator was where I was at that time, looking up at the still existing grey woman. The woman had laid a touch upon me. The skinning which had been done towards me was real. I could see the skinless hands, the red muscle and tendons showed freely turning the thoughts I had before further into a spiral of pain. Blood as everywhere in a puddle, locked inside the elevator, slowly slipping around me,creating a pagan alter. She was eyeing me, and I, back on her, with the power of a leader, although she seemed unaffected by my nature Then, in a flash she bobbed her head towards mine, clean. I could not escape it with all my skin missing. A rain of acidlike substance poured through her mouth and onty me skinless body, dissolving it slowly. Painfully. I tried, I truly tried to get away from her sunken head, frozen in a puking motion right above my body, but to no avail. The fright and helplessness convulsed my body into nausea and through my gastrointestinal tract I tasted iron. It slowly filled my mouth, driveled out of it and on the floor chocking me to my death. She disappeared in a blink. The feeling of being enveloped came upon me, slithering with a coldness binding itself to my bones. Soon after all feelings would return and every remnant of her was gone. My consciousness was floating just above the sad skeleton which had been me. I felt as though i was something, someone, forged to a greater cause.

The blood and every bit of irregularity were gone as the elevator beeped on the right floor. 

I was of course shaken by this incident and had to rest. Rest and work, and I will not leave my office today. I must come back to reality instead of being caught a dreamworld. Dreamworlds are not part of work and work needs to be upheld, at whatever cost!

Staff Meeting

I had a quick question at my office yesterday, by mail of course, nobody enters a dragons lair uninvited. And I see no Knights, only jesters around me. I invite them to my court to hold a grand feast on a weekly basis. At such occasion I laugh some, I eat some, and I devour most, of the inconsequent words presented at powerpoint, reciting information already in my hand. Of course I am the one who rather laughs than hand-feeds those little birds, chirping away all the day. If not they had their little hats and cowls in different colors to match their stupidity, I would feel it a waste of my general time... Appearances appearances!

They quiver and quiet as I stand tall at the end of the table, hammering my hand firmly to the table, nailing their facts to through every floor of the building, and down into the basement. 

The Question; rather surprising, was an inquiry whether I ever sleep or not. There was even a bold statement, pronouncing me a workaholic - The word itself is degrading for one as me, into a status of mindless peon. Workaholic, please. It is not an addiction, but a function to be sure that today's society develops as you wish it. I revere it more as a sacred duty, I am obliged, nay forced to do, to uphold and with such vigor that the pillars of society shall not falter. And this is why I am not a workaholic. 

Concerning sleep, yes of course I sleep, every human being need to recharge and be rested. I know that I am sometimes beyond the mere capabilities of the "common" man. But, alas, even sometimes instinct must be in upheld, and sleep must claim me, like it does any other being.  

Today I woke up, as any other day, to the sound of my alarm. Unlike others I don't cuddle to my pillow, wife or whatnot, but would rather turn my body from my one man bed, sit up, stretch and go out of my bedroom. My bedroom is rather small, there is no need for the modest effects of design, which the woman imports into the bedroom to show her affectation of objects. I know it lies in her instincts, and as such so hard to suppress, where we as men, are superior and beyond design and exterior looks of a modern home. I have heard many a tales of before and after a housing is shared between those bonded between genders. The man interested on effective function of an object, no matter the looks, where the woman only desires.. DESIRES the looks of the object, second rating the effectively. Oh and some wonder why Eve took the apple, she had no desire for the function, only the beauty, the round shapes, she herself and her body wore. Desire my friends, is what she made Adam do, she made him convinced the function was to the best of both, and cunningly she trapped him out of the garden of Eden, cursing him forever to be bound by her. 

From my bedroom I can walk into the hallway, which contains on the left side 1 large toilet and by the entrance, a walk-in closet. When you have as many suits and briefcases as I have, the need for storage where no folds are created expands. Such a closet meets my every need, and the function is fulfilled. On the right side I have my kitchen with an adjourning home office overlooking the streets. This apartment is not so expensive, 11 floors, and easy to get to and from. My driver arrives exactly 1 hour after I have woken, and it takes exactly 15 minutes by car to arrive at the building, and that is even with heavy traffic. My hours begin 45 minutes before the first arrival, other than the 2 at the lobby, who opens the building 2 hours before I arrive. Punctuality is important to maintain control, or in some cases, the illusion of control. 

As it is Wednesday I will go to the right heading for the employee elevator, heading up to the 49'th floor - The floor below mine. It is here all the last 10 floors partake in the weekly meeting. 2 from the 49'th floor will be attending - One of them is Brian, the leadership behind a revolution against me inside the firm. Nobody really sides with him, but they have to mark their consent, as he has worked his way from the bottom and up here. He is good at what he does, predicting. I have placed him to my left, as he has the heart, but no brain, only working his way to best others, and like the first Knight of King Arthur, he will at one time deceive the firm, bonding with a new one, to be my newest competition. Easy to outsmart, maybe not in the fight, but the battle he cannot withstand true strategy. One move at a time Brian. To my right is the master of the floors, and the only other important person in this company, Paul. He stands out with his too big, black lined glasses, dark brown short hair braided to one side, a stiff shirt and red tie to match his grey pants, grey pen and black shoes. He is punctual. He requires order. It is him I trust with planning the meetings, delivering a wide array of entertainment through the day. Behind me, Beatrice will sit weighing the words on the electronic screen immortalizing the mortal persons mistakes. She will be my whisperer of any grammar mistake, I can take a cheery laugh at. 

In this medieval fare today it seems we both have jugglers, lepers and the women with beard entertaining. The first jugglers pretend that the pie diagrams shows any real statistics, and lies are thrown through the room warning us of competition. As a good jester he drops his balls in the end, to my counter argument and everyone laughs and claps at my command. Our lepers, with news from the bottom floors, crawl up to the front and roll around in the dirt of their own words as I command them to begone, and with them they can take these quotes of people who needs to be replaced within next week. Sheer joy leave more people homeless at my doorstep, may they die so stronger ones can replace them. There is no room in this society for weakness or dull looking, much gloating pantomimes imitating what could be good work. 

At last for the kings surprise - I heave my glass and welcome those last entertainers of the fun-fare and toast to their good luck. these metrosexual blenders, who talk until their beards start growing out again. They do prolong the words of strategy, making no true points, but still an interesting hear. I listen, and smile, knowing that there is no doomsday prophet on this day. I accept their plans as they have grown into old wise men after their dubious discussions in front of me. Shake their hand, and watch how their eyes idolize me, from top to toe. Turn off my facade slightly, giving them a wicked grin of power, before turning my back exiting with no fanfares of trumpets in my wake; Rather just the hands in my pockets, leaving them to gaze, open-mouthed, at my back, while I take my exit. Beatrice is just behind me and enter the elevator at the same time. I do not turn, as there is no need. She knows her place, this dog.  

Already as I exit the elevator, I sense the time soon would come for closing this day. Hence I would be going to my office until late hours, watching, waiting for every click of the machine to tell me to do my work, so we can control in unison. I walk briskly towards my elevator, and as I raise my head in sure steps I see an unannounced visitor by Frida. She is in deep conversation, it seems, but I register her turning her head while speaking to Frida, paying the poor woman at the desk no mind. 

This woman... Unannounced.. That is typical women to come and go as they please, but not in Castle. Discipline is the only works against their works of Desire. I pick up my pace, to reach her as fast as possible, this woman, wearing a red dress. I saw her the other day too! I am sure, that such a woman returning, only is ill boding. Like a ship, no woman should be allowed, at least not uninvited, that is bad luck indeed. 

She is turning to leave, I am at an almost run to reach her, but in some manner she is faster than me, with her devilish movement. She is in flight out of the entrance, and as I reach it, gone with the ever flowing stream of ignorant passersby. 

I walk up to Frida DEMANDING who that woman was, and she just looks at me blankly, and tells me there has been no woman in here today. It is outrageous that she can do her chitchat with ladyfriends and just ignore my orders. I told her, if such a thing occurs again she would immediately be replaced and set on the street. Then she began crying, and Beatrice went to her. Such an event should not occur within my walls, a woman crying, showing feelings. At that moment I opened my briefcase neatly. Had no other choice than take out a letter of resignation and write in her name. "There is no need of you here anymore Frida, I will write you a small recommendation, and you can go to a womans magazine and cry your tears there. This is a male firm, no tears are shed within these walls, and no lying either". 

I left her with Beatrice and the letter and strolled calmly to my own elevator. It felt odd, touched by someone. Ah I saw at that time there was a fingerprint. Blasphemy!

I took out my handkerchief and quickly wiped off the fingerprint just before the doors opened, with their silent pleasing sound. Inside stood Tom, a frightened look on him today. He might have been in here since I closed down yesterday. He stood mumbling a bit and looked to all sides, most of all resembling a religious fanatic. I was in no mood to handle him too, and he was a man of work after all, my true knight. A little mental instability should be no cause of concern. 

There was no grandeur in this small prodding of the poor man into the hallway, but he at least seemed more comfortable as soon as he was outside. I leaned against the cold glass, feeling the embrace of my own cold reflection, and my thoughts swam into the deep lake of mathematics, inspiring me yet again, as the elevator ascended, so did I, yet again.

Beyond any thought of man, I stood at last at the top, and would rest here in my true being.

Beatrice the Secretary

Having already described the lobby of my Castle, today we will acquire further knowlegde as to what my lair has to offer. The place that is sacred, where only the most prominent knights in my order are allowed to enter. And of course a lady, but only one to sit at my side and be quiet and condescending. Of course my side, is next to my office, we shouldn't have too much physical contact between man and woman in such a sacred place. I have to admit, of course, that I am as sacred as my office, and as such should never be defiled by any external source. Especially not gender.

As every other day I walk through the lobby, greeting Tom, who is, today, staring feverishly at the entrance with wide bloodstained eyes, in such a manner, one should think they were about to pop. Oh how I love him, and he surely has his moments. Most important of all, is that his cleaning is eminent yet another day, one should think that he never left this building.

Is that sweat trickling down his forehead? If so I know he would never accept a sickday, even if I permitted it, as I know he needs the work as much as I need mine. Today, I had dressed myself to effortlessly slip between the throng of ignorants, by disguising myself as one. Suit all dark, my blue tie neatly pressed against my more than averagely fit body, and 3 times ironed white shirt. What sheer joy there is to blend with such perfection, my Tuesday briefcase spoiled to the touch of other people, to be ventilated through real New York pollution, before returning to the clinical ever so safe environment. Of course, tomorrow, with the weekly staff meeting, I will wear my Wednesday briefcase.

Yes I walked to my tower today, because mingling among these slaves, without the use of any words, but just looks, creates such a glee. It is easy to spot the slaves from the masters. These foul looking, mind deserted spacers, who either stare blankly or look down on the pavement in a 'hurry', crying those unspilled tears inside. Those, who have all the nurture and love from their so loving wife and children, have run away from their true nature. They have run away from truth! from godhood! spilled themselves into the gutters of creation, to multiply by coital activity of the bodies, in the hope of creating true potential, that one day will rise, as I have done.

Those thoughts repeat themselves to me over and over, as I walk to my elevator along the majestic floor, and use my key to summon forth my sun chariot, ready to bring a new dawn to those who still walk in shadow and darkness.
As the doors open I see in the mirrors now surrounding me, a glimpse of the basement parking lot. But with a blink of my eye it was gone. I stop in with my usual straight looking true fact, A grin to match my suit. Oh how the sun shall rise today!

In my praising of my own selflessness to help those lost sheep as the sheepdog I am, there is room to exclaim a "Hallelujah!" and clap together my hands, turning around, to face the exit of the elevator.

The soothing sound of a ping, as my destination on the top of Mount of Olympus have been reached, here I can control the weather and ways of man undisturbed. Or almost at least

In front of me stands Beatrice. A woman, in her late twenties, wearing a long skirt and loosely cut shirt by my recommendation. Letting her shed any light on bare skin would create chaos in the order of work. I have of course hired her for the looks, not for myself, but for my underlings, so I can maintain the image of control. Her body is more than averagely shaped, the female lines marking a well developed woman. Even in the modest clothing I have forced upon her, the skirt is a tight fit, while her top just lightly touches the skin of beneath in the swirling wind as she strides with power to show her status in the firm. She tries, as all devious women would do, to woo one such as me, but I am incapable of desiring anything but my work, much to her obvious regret. I can see it of course, but maintain my fake smile to at least cheer her with that. Bad morale is bad for company, and in the end I would have to fire her.

Women who work, should always be a face of the person who hires them. She is not stupid, luckily, and accepts the minimum wage for women with a neutral true face always ready to do my bidding. She is my desk cleaner, and all the paperwork and indexing is at her hands. Also, she is the one who takes the elevator down on Tuesdays to collect the weekly reports from each of the last top 10 floors. I greet her with a nod as she, on just the right time steps by me, trying to brush lightly against me. I do as I always do, and dodge her in my own powerful walk along my red carpet. I never talk unnecessary to this woman, and my speaker is never used. She has got her orders, and always follow them from one end to the next. It is part of an automated system, where she is my necessary robot to assure everything along the clockwork is working correct. For that I appreciate her, for her instincts as I woman, I loathe her. She must learn to control, if she wants to be in control, especially for us, the masters, and not the ones bound by masters.

The elevator doors closed behind me, and screeching noises as nails clawing to escape, followed the lift downward. I took at slight look behind my shoulder and shrugged. Nothing like mystic sounds of panic caused by inferior beings. No need to be in such a heat, but I have animals who tend to do unnecessary courtship for bonding of the opposite gender.

At last I stood in front of my sanctuary, which none of you shall know of.

Yet.

 I open my mahogany door and step into the lounge giving the full panorama view of the world below and above.

Here I am Being Supreme.

Tom the Janitor

You might know the lobby of any office building, but none so adamant and of course close to any perfection as mine. I can think of one person who made this possible. Tom the janitor. As I take my triumphant strides through the ever reflective lobby of my temple, there is nothing that is not completely clean. No dust bunny able to raise hairs on my neck, not even a scratch on any of the tiles. I am amazed to the powers he has with a mop.

Now you are all problably thinking that I must have a small lobby, but that is not the actual case my dear readers. My lobby, if I should describe such an eminent thing without giving it too little credit, is GRANDEUR itself. Even the entrance could just as well be the entrance to the vatican church, for all I know. My tower, my temple, my workplace, and what you could call my Godhood's beginning. There has been no sparing in hours setting up the ever reflecting tiles depicting several heroic scenes of history. I can follow these all the way to the lift, and would say about 100 strides into the building. What is on the way you say? I prefer having especially that walk, empty of any object that could manifest itself as a nuisance while I am walking. Only a kings path should be fitted to a king, as this is. That is why that elevator only can be used by me. In my firm you got to earn the right to use the elevator. Tom has the right to use the elevator as well as Beatrice. 

So with that in order, I must put my emphasis as to where the objects are placed in my lobby. To the left of the entrance is the counter which is at least a diameter length of 6 meters and as you could guess donut shaped. Inside is another gender paid worker called Frida, redhead with freckles, and eager to talk to anyone who enters the building. So these are my bottomfeeders, making sure the public eye NEVER gets too far into this place. On the right side are yet another waiting area spanning around 40 meters with much room in between. Also for my very loved plants neatly placed in rows. At the end of this there is a door to the left and 2 doors in-front. The one to the left leads into postal reception where all mail packaging is processed. The 2 doors right in-front is the employees entrance into my golden kingdom. One of the doors is a lobby for yet another elevator, this door is card locked. You have to attain a certain rank among my underlings to be able to use this one. The others must work their way to the top, and with that said I do not believe anyone below 10'Th floor has access to the elevator. Maybe only half of those to the 20'Th floor have and ALL on 30'Th floor have access to the elevator.

Back to Tom. Today he was odd. Or well he has been odd for many weeks now. He has begun to always stand in a trancelike state, his neck crooked down as if he was asleep. He is staring down at the floor, stabilizing his body on the mop. I fear that is does not bode well for him, and my love have diminished slightly although the floors still are as clean and shiny as ever - that saves his job for now; It is good to know how much he works himself for his job, as I am sure this is the outcome of. 

As I greet him with my everlasting "heyTom", he only mumbles back in resignation to me cheery posterior. That is a sad thing indeed, as it takes so much effort to built up such a true face hidden in lies and deception. 

I felt watched today, and Frida wasn't at the desk. I must remind her, that when Tom is in a state of mind as this, she is the guard of the building. She must remember, or she will be kicked out! 

I had to look over my back several times to ensure my own safety, all the way to the elevator, but nothing of peculiar interest or out of the ordinary was to see. I entered the elevator as any other day, and there just in my background I was sure a woman moved in slow strides towards me. But the doors closed even before I could glimpse anymore than her red dress.

The rest of the day went as any other, with my workhours and schedules being maintained to maximum efficiency. There never came any uncalled visitors, although I am sure I saw a woman in the lobby, other than Frida of course.