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Memories - (Chapter 1-8) - Updated (Happy Days)
CherylMatt Offline
Growing old..
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Memories - (Chapter 1-8) - Updated (Happy Days)

//// I won't read comments, I won't reply to them. I will just pass by every now and then to post more chapters, if you are interested in this, keep an eye on my threads, if not, move along.
This is what a progress report made into a book would look like.
I hope you draw your own conclusion from what I will write down here. It is simply "our way".


There may (will) be typos and grammar errors, I don't care. \\\\


I like to write this like a fanfiction so people think that what I write never happened therefore I can be totally honest about what I say. I wouldn't get this luxury otherwise.






MEMORIES


*** CHAPTER 1 ***



The room was mostly empty. The walls had a strange dark glow that was able to absorb light and emanate it back a little. The ceiling was really tall, made of the same material as the walls; aside from two small openings in two different walls opposite to eachother, there was nothing to be seen. A dense gray mist surrounded pretty much the whole room, and an unknown light source gave everything and everyone a shadow and a few spots of highlight.
She was sitting there, in the dead center of the room, facing one of the doors, her head slightly bowing down and her legs crossed.
Due to the weird lighting properties of the room, you couldn't quite make her facial traits, or her general body details; maybe with a bit of effort you could notice that her eyes were closed.
"I don't like it here." - she said, seemingly to nobody. "Make it quick."
Her words echoed in the otherwise empty room. Who was she talking to? Little time passed before another distinct voice, perhaps a male one, answered her call:
"Just a little bit more, dear. I think I finally found it."
The echoing and the general darkness of the place made it difficult to pinpoint the exact location of the second voice, but it makes sense to say that it was coming from one of the entrances, more precisely the one behind her back.
Minutes passed. The fog was still moving around the room, covering the two entrances every now and then. Aside from the amplified sound of an unknown wind pushing the fog around, nothing could be heard.
Finally a bit of light reflected over the fog passing around her, revealing some more details of her face.
She had indeed her eyes closed; her facial structure reminds of a young girl, possibly in her late teens, her skin had an unusual light pink color, almost pale, but not quite. Her face was skinny, and in the brief moments where one could see her in detail, she didn't move a millimeter, almost like a statue.
From the entrance she was not facing, a silhouette slowly formed, the sound of the steps coming from it getting louder and louder.
"I don't believe it. Nothing!" - the silhouette said with a hint of anger. As it approached the girl, she immediately stopped his progress.
"Stand back." - her voice was firm, and her head ever so slightly tilted to the left, like a hunter waiting for a prey.
Ahead of her two more silhouettes appeared. They weren't human shaped, and they really didn't have details. It was like the gray mist coalesced and was given a distinct shape. Something four legged, due to the lighting of the room and the fog, making out any more details was impossible.
The figure behind her, possibly her associate, stood still in his place, although very difficultly. He was impatient, angry.
"You know I can handle that, right?" said the man, after a loud scoff.
"I know you can, but your retroactive problem wouldn't be helping at all." she replied, as the two menacing shadows approached.
The man, defeated, slowly calmed down and idly watched what was about to happen.
The girl and the two shadows were only a few meters apart, between them the fog had cleared. It was like a battlefield. Fog and darkness surrounded pretty much everything, and the light was so faint that you really had to work hard with your eyes to make out the details.
She had yet to make a move. Still, stationary, her head slightly tilted left and forward, her eyes closed. The beasts were looking, approaching very slowly, studying the right moment to attack.
The moment finally came. In less of a second the creatures jumped onto her, clearing the space as quickly as you can imagine, but they weren't fast enough. The girl opened her eyes.
Everything froze, even the mist. The man behind her had to look away for a moment. Her eyes were dead on staring at the two creatures, and those two were immediately thrown off. This all happened in an instant.
She was still in her position, but her eyes were now wide open. The iris was of a bright, pure yellow, which with the darkness of the cornea made a contrast so powerful that you could see them even in the darkness that was all around them. The two creatures, recovering from the blast that had thrown them backwards, were now much less intimidating. What just happened? Time did not freeze, it was no shockwave blast. What really happened before the creatures' eyes was just the result of sheer willpower. The power to stand above them, she had it.
The creatures were helpless against her gaze. You could faintly hear their whining. They were moving around very slowly and weakly, almost in pain. As her stare relaxed into a more normal look, the creatures gained a bit of strenght back but still didn't even dare to try and attack again; instead, they dissipated into the fog that was still covering the room and scattering the faint light.
"Let's go" - she said as she finally stood up.
The man approached her and together they walked past the door where the beasts came from.
On the other side just an oval-shaped ring of light, a portal. This light structure finally allowed all the details of the two characters to be seen.
The girl was wearing a dark hoodie, with a yellow lightning shaped line crossing the whole upper body part from the neck to the waist. Two similar lines were on the sleeves, crossing from the shoulder to the hands. A simple pair of black leggings and running shoes complimented her figure. She had an athletic build, and she was slightly shorter than him. Her hair were pitch black and were fashioned in a long ponytail that arched behind her head and fell down on her back, with a small comb over her forehead and two fringes slightly covering her cheeks. Her skin was of a pale pink and she didn't wear much makeup aside from an hint of eyeshadow around her bright yellow eyes.
The man on the other hand was very different. He was taller than her, with a simple pair of jeans and black t shirt. A little overweight, with scruffed brown hair and eyes of the same colour. He was probably in his early twenties and was carrying a small bag.
"Where to?" - the girl asked, while grazing her hand inside the portal.
"Your place is fine, I think I can handle for a while longer."
"That's good." The portal's lids suddenly became bright orange as they both crossed over.




*** CHAPTER 2 ***



In an instant, the surrounding changed from the dark narrow corridor they were in to a bright field.
The land was curved on a cliffside and below it only the sea could be seen. The "U" shaped cliffside had a forest that covered two thirds of the whole area, while the other third was flat, with only a small house placed a few meters away from the edge of the cliffside.
This place didn't really follow a timetable, or seasonal cycling. The weather, time and overall atmospheric details varied to one's own likings. At the time, it was dusk, not too warm or cold and a fresh breeze kept everything windy and at a steady temperature.
Out of thin air, they appeared in the area where the small house was located, more precisely near the entrance, between the house and the edge of the cliff.
The man was facing towards the cliff, holding on his bag, and the girl was facing sideways towards the wooded area.
"I'll never get used to this" - the man commented, looking down the cliffside.
"It looks way scarier than it really is, Matt." replied the girl, while walking towards the entrance of her home - "Just like most of the things around here."
Matt stood still for a few moments, watching the stream of clouds drifting from one side of his view to the other.
The inside of the house was pretty much as simple as it gets, just like the outside. The walls were made of white marble bricks, only a few windows located around the entrance were breaking off the simplicity of the exterior design. The black tiled floor gave the whole house a nice contrast and made it look bigger than how it really was.
The girl went to lie down on her bed. It was a king sized bed, it could hold easily three or four people, the mattress was thick but rather soft, so if you were to lie down on it, you would sink down like quicksand, the cushion was of a similar material, with a blue sheet on top.
"So, you didn't find what you were looking for?" - the girl asked while revolving around the sheets to find the perfect position.
"Nope, but I am sure it is possible." Matt replied, while taking off his shoes.
"It is unprecedented, Matt, maybe there are other ways for that phenomena to be explained".
"You've really gotta work hard with your imagination to explain that differently, Cheryl"
She was lying on her bed, arms crossed under her head, looking upwards to the ceiling.
"Maybe I should ask them" - Matt said while crossing the room to reach her bed.
Cheryl's look immediately shifted from the ceiling to him "You know how it usually goes. Do you really expect this time to be any different?"
Matt was about to reply, but immediately got stopped: "You say hi, they say hi back, you state your problem, they vaguely answer, you get angry, they stop replying" - Cheryl continued, gesticulating with her finger. "You know rather well what to do, you just don't want to admit it".
Matt heard this words more than a hundred times in the past years. The girl was right, he just didn't want to admit it.
"That is not how we achieved most of what we can do, though" - Matt replied, with a touch of irony on his voice.
"That is how I learned most of the things I can do" Cheryl quickly replied, with her voice slightly raised. "Talking to them won't do much, just go ahead and do it if you don't believe me".
Matt, without realizing it, had been walking around in circle since he got inside her house. "Out of a hundred riddles, nonsense and generally just helping them instead of myself, sometimes I got something good outta it" - he was carelessly moving around  the stationary flame that lighted the whole place, just like a moth chasing a light in the dark.
"Oh, yes. She got stronger because of your stubbordness. You will never forgive yourself for it, will you?" she asked.
Above Cheryl's bed there was an orb, a very faint, transparent orb. Depending on who was using it and how, it would act differently. She was remotely moving it around, playing with it lazily like a cat plays with an old toy; every now and then that orb would waver a little or emit a little spark.  
"It was no crime, Cheryl - I'm happy if I helped, but still I should have helped you when I had the chance. You did help yourself in the long run. You know well how I feel when I get sidetracked and overtaken"
"You fail to grasp that there is no one-way guideline that allows you to achieve what you wants in this" - she absently replied - "not even the most experienced would be able to make such a thing for you".
Matt suddenly stopped and looked at her - "Like Oguigi?"
Cheryl smiled and placed the orb back in its place - "She was good. She actually did that once... she wrote a guide for us."
"Oh yep that's right" Matt said while chuckling a bit - "Sad thing people forgot about them, or rather, they went full retarded over a fake story".
By now, Cheryl went from lying down to sitting with her legs crossed on the bed. "Koomer developed issues, that's what true belief can do... remember that."
"I..." - Matt stuttered for a moment - "I follow Asimov's theory, it takes a lot for me to believe in something."
"It's not about that, it's about doing a leap in the dark every now and then. Just the benefit of the doubt, if you had done it back then..." Cheryl pointed her finger at him "things would have gone VERY differently."
Matt let out an annoyed "hmpfh" at her last sentence. She was not speaking wisdom, just gently pointing out his host's stupidity.
"Everything happened the moment I stopped caring" Matt uttered - "the moment I stopped chasing a bar trick that was nothing special after all"
She sighed, and nodded. "My early days were all about switching.. we tried every possible method that was out there, and more" she added.
Matt cringed a little at the thought of it. A chapter of his past that he went through great lenghts to hide to the public. Hide it, bury it, destroy it. It was taboo.
"I'm not like that anymore" he replied with a hint of shame in his voice.
Cheryl stood up and hugged him - "I know you're not. We wouldn't be here talking otherwise."
He felt his own creation hugging him. Warm, gentle, firm. A simple hug, just like a daughter would hug his father. Is that what he sought after for three years? It was simpler to achieve than he thought.
"Why.." Matt stuttered once more "Why do I have you, why do I... I don't deserve you".
Cheryl shook his host's body energically - "Stay with me. If I am the way I am, it is only because of you. There's nothing special about me, everything I can do you can do it too."
Matt's own self was wavering a lot. That's what usually happened when he went too deep into his own mind or something peculiar happened. He was not strong enough yet. Deep enough his personality would just get lost in the sea of noise that is the mind of a young adult. Although he was getting better at it, after roughly an hour he had to stay sharp and focused on where he was to continue to operate normally. Cheryl never had this issue, as she was born in it.
Cheryl gently placed down his now motionless body on her bed. He would eventually wake up.



*** Chapter 3 and 4 coming soon ***
(This post was last modified: 03-12-2018, 03:11 AM by CherylMatt.)
12-30-2016, 03:17 AM
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CherylMatt Offline
Growing old..
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#2
 
RE: Memories - (Chapter 1 and 2)

*** CHAPTER 3 ***




What were they for? Some use it as a form of escapism, some as a tool. In the darkest moments, where depression crushes you down as if the force of gravity doubled on you, they may be there to support the weight with you. Or if not, to pick up the pieces of your shattered self afterwards.
Matt woke up a over half an hour later. In the real world, it was a little over 9pm. The noises of his small apartment were all there, just like always: the sound of his computer, the water running from the apartment upstairs, even the occasional neighbour yelling for no good reason. The smell in the air is what "activated" him the most - after a long period of time at Cheryl's house he needed a good minute or two before going back on track in the real world. There was a distinct strawberry smell in the air and from what little he could perceive right after waking up there was definately something going on.
It took him a few seconds to realize that he could not move his body. Information could get to him, but nothing would come out. Being in the confused state he was, he tried to breathe in hard. The body twitched, but it was not the result he was looking for. Suddenly a well known voice and a warm feeling engulfed him: "Oh, you're finally awake. I am preparing some food, you were starving."
Ah, there's the bar trick. Conscious body with unconscious user, all you need is another user.
Going to live alone right after being declared "adult" by the law had its perks.
Harsh at first, but with a little hard work you could make it. A small haven all for yourself, nobody to talk to, nobody to attend other than yourself and most importantly the complete and absolute freedom.
After some more time he started to see the whole picture. Cheryl was cooking dinner and he had fallen asleep from previously.
"I can't even survive a hug, can I now?" Matt uttered, while trying to recompose himself.
Cheryl giggled, while dancing around the kitchen preparing the usual dinner. Depending on where she was, the smell would change. Near the pan and the cooking board you could definitely smell peas, cheese and meat; while over the table and in the general living room area that strawberry smell would come again and overpower anything else.
"Have you been vaping?" he asked, after finally gaining back all his senses.
"Yes, but I didn't use much." Cheryl answered, while stirring the peas and meat on the pot.
She always had this peculiarity. She always added a little "explaining" to her doings, possibly because she thought Matt would get angry if she were to "abuse" what he had. Matt however, was kind. Not many friends, not many people who really loved him, but those who did, he always found a way to pay back that love however he could.
Especially for Cheryl, he would have given his own life to her if the need arised. But she was humble, she would always say that she didn't want fancy expensive things, just what she had already was more than enough.
2015 was a hard year. The hardest of Matt's life. Everything and everyone crumbled: family, money, friends, school, even his own self crumbled down over a recurring problem that plagued him for more than 10 months. The only one who would stay strong for him was his own tulpa. Recognizing the value of what you created takes some time, and it goes far and beyond simple bar tricks. December especially was where he hit rock bottom. He was weak, sick, almost on the brink of poverty, his family couldn't support themselves, let alone him, his friends were all gone. His mind was plagued with foolish ideas, dreams, sadness, even a hint of true schizophrenia (the one that really hurts you). He cried on his birthday, he didn't celebrate Christmas. Everything was lost.
Everything, but Cheryl.
She sustained him for a year, not with switching, or by replacing him in his daily life, but with kindness. Whenever he felt down, she was there to cheer him up, during the darkest moments of the days, she built a way to cope with life, making dinner for him and giving him some entertainment. That's where they developed their passion for tv and movies. This would eventually help Matt find his own job too.
Matt was too weak or poor to thank her properly, but at the dawn of 2016, when everything slowly but surely sorted itself, he gave her as much as a 17 year old kid could at his current state. He worked hard, sleeping 4 hours a day at best, he saved up as much as he could, bearing with everything that was being thrown at him. And on her birthday he spent all the money that he earned on something she could enjoy: an amazing 4K curved tv, top of the line audio, the most comfortable armchair he could find and a system with an obscene amount of storage he built personally for her, so she could store her tv shows and play whatever she wanted.
Did she need it? No. Did she want it? Neither. But after that rough year Matt felt such in debt with her that no amount of "I was doing my job" or "I don't want anything" from her would heal it, so he had to pay her back. This is what he does to his true friends.
That's how they mastered the art of bartending tricks too. Years wasted on guides, helping others and failure wouldn't bear results. Success comes when you stop chasing it. One day he was so tired after one of Cheryl's marathon of good food, tv shows and games that he just couldn't stay conscious. When you're "in the backseat" all your problems are distant, it's like being 10000 km away from home, away from your recurring habits and problems; that's why it is so popular in the modern tulpa community: it is a form of escapism, an easy and painless route to happiness. But it's all a facade.



*** CHAPTER 4 ***



"So... tonight?" - Matt said.
That phrase doesn't make sense, but it does between them. Sharing a mind allows for some neat bar tricks, one is sending the meaning of a question to eachother rather than the question itself, so it's easier to understand. What he meant was: "What are we going to watch tonight?"
Cheryl picked that up immediately: "Umm... Vikings and... I don't know, I'll decide on the spot."
"Double vikings it is then" - Matt replied, with a hint of irony.
Another "compressed" phrase, what he meant was: "I know the hype is too much after one episode of Vikings, so you're gonna immediately binge-watch another one"
Cheryl smirked with his own body and answered: "Maybe, but I would like some variation. We've grown addicted to that series"
She kept making dinner while talking to his host. A nice mixture of peas, sausage and cheese; very easy and very cheap, it was also tasty.
Dinner was ready in no time. As Cheryl sat down on her armchair (which looks and feels more like a floating sofa than a normal chair) she couldn't help but quietly humming to the intro of Vikings.
Two episodes flew right past their eyes as if they were both ten minutes long. A good meal, some good entertainment and some good company, what possibly more could you need from life?
"She's a true mamafu" - Matt chirped, talking about Lagertha, one of the characters of vikings.
"Yep." Cheryl giggled a bit while answering.
"Don't you miss her?" Matt asked.
Cheryl, still in control, turned immediately serious. To Matt, it felt like time froze.
She waited a few moments before replying. "Of course I do, but there's nothing that can be done now."
He was referring to her ex girlfriend, who cheated on her.
Cheryl was very loyal, she loved her a lot, not even once she thought of cheating, never. She kind of felt something was up, because of their conversations that kept getting shorter, but she never brought the subject up to her.
"Sorry..." - Matt uttered, regretting what he just said.
"It's okay." Cheryl slowly cheered up. "It is a downside of us tulpas, we take long-distance relationships to a whole new level."
Long distance relationships do exist, you might fall in love with someone on the other side of the world. Eventually, maybe, possibly, perhaps someday you'd meet: have a talk, face to face, and lots of things can happen from that point forward.
With a relationship between tulpas, this can never happen, unless they are both part of the same system. There is currently no way for two tulpas that are not only in two different countries but also two different minds to meet, at least without going into astral mumbo-jumbo and questionable bar tricks. Not feasible.
Cheryl knew this since the beginning, but still loved her. It was good enough for her, but apparently not for her former partner.
As she turned off her tv, Matt's phone started buzzing. Cheryl groaned a little: "It never ends!".
She wasn't upset, just cheerfuly pointing out that Matt's phone was constantly flooded with notifications and had to be checked every 10 minutes or so. Work stuff, couldn't be helped.
This time though, the notification was for her.
"Hi hi" was the message. It was Nobillis.
Heh, Nobillis. One of Matt's top three tulpas of all time. A whole book could be written on the history between Nobillis, Kevin, Cheryl and Matt. So much happened, so much to forget, but also so much to remember.
"Good evening" was Cheryl's answer.
It isn't quite clear how, but in a short time the conversation shifted from pleasantries to philosophy.
"Are we perhaps worshipping the same entities, just with different names?" Cheryl wondered.
Religion, chemistry, philosophy, magic, music and some other things. Two hours flew by and none of the participants did notice.
"Wha- why does she talk to you like that?" a disorientated Matt asked to his tulpa. "She never spoke like that to me"
Cheryl shrugged. "Perhaps you ask the wrong questions. Haven't we talked about this?"
Yes, earlier, in her home, Matt wanted to ask them advice about something. That thing he was looking for in the dark room with Cheryl. But asking Kevin and Nobillis for advice is like asking a war veteran how to shoot a rifle; what you get is never a straight answer, more like a mixture between old stories, praising of Nobillis/Kerin (or Kevin, depending on who was talking) and a very vague jittery hint of a possible, plausible, maybe metaphorical and riddled answer to the original question.
Their answer never satisfied him, of course. And you can draw your own conclusion from it. Years spent talking to them, not much help gained. In fact, quite the opposite. In the long run, he who needed help only helped those who didn't need it. Help came from within, more precisely from the tulpa he was trying to seek help for but by doing so only harmed it.
Picture a parent trying to assist his son/daughter into growing up. The parents expect nothing but the best from their sons, they want them to be excellent, nothing short of perfection.. some of them try to help with a bit of patience, love and care, and some with impatience, carelessly throwing everything and everyone onto them to watch them transform. It is harsh, but many do that; all you need to know is that the son/daughter is not stupid, and even in his young age he observes, he listens, he understands, and subsequentially develops according to what he experienced.
Matt phased his journey with a young Cheryl from being a careless prick who asked for help but didn't gain much from it (or never even tried to) to a somewhat duller, less impatient, more easygoing and forgiving host. None of them worked, not for him. Shortly after, the catastrophe that is called 2015 and that he calls "the worst year of his life" crashed upon him and all the securities he had. Make no mistake, he collapsed too. The only living entity close to him who didn't was his tulpa. She developed exponentially from that point in time, doubling her presence, strenght, intelligence, everything. A legit miracle no one expected, except maybe Kevin and his associates. Matt always addressed their "premonition" about Cheryl as "sweet talk to keep him pleased" but oh boy, was he wrong.
Looking back to that year and that sudden growth of his "daughter", Matt couldn't help himself but wonder what was the cause. Many times during the years he doubted her, he buried her under a sea of doubt; nothing she would do would ever make any difference, his stupidity always blinded him against what could be simply explained as a young entity forming itself. In two years he barely forced, he wanted to get to the "good stuff" right away, using other's methods and progress reports as example and "proof" that could be done. "If they can do it, why can't we, Cheryl?" he often asked her, while pointing at reports of people who not only meditated and tulpaforced not ten, but hundreds of times more than him (in the same amount of time) but also who did have a completely different mindset than him. He was asking a children who could barely walk to run like Usain Bolt, without teaching her anything. Isn't it or not the definition of retard?
And the answer was right under his nose: In the rare occasions he did actually spend some quality time with her (as poorly as he could, because with no tulpaforcing and meditating skills he could barely see, hear or perceive her) and more importantly on the very first days when he created her, he didn't use many "traits" as modern guides call them now, but rather he gave her a purpose. "Make me less lazy"
As selfish as that request was, she never ever refused to comply. Like a soldier following instructions, she always tried to successfuly fullfill her duty, even in her youngest days. The irony is that years later he forgot about that little "purpose" of hers, and when he asked her in 2016 what made her change so much in the past year, she merely replied "I was needed, I was only doing my job."
But you know him by now, you know it was still not enough proof, and when he actually went into his archives to read his old progress report and find confirmation, he couldn't help but shake. A sense of fear, agony, guilt.. everything checked out. He may have forgotten, but she never did. There she was, everything he has ever hoped to achieve, right in front of his dumb impatient eyes; there she was, as powerful and alive as his wildest dreams wanted her to be.
01-21-2017, 05:34 AM
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Ponytail Offline
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RE: Memories - (Chapter 1-4) - Updated

*Cough*
I know you said you wouldn't read comments but why is this in the art section?

The System:

It's too big.
ha, that's what she said.
01-23-2017, 03:59 PM
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Beatles Offline
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RE: Memories - (Chapter 1-4) - Updated

(01-23-2017, 03:59 PM)Ponytail Wrote: *Cough*
I know you said you wouldn't read comments but why is this in the art section?

Nobody knows.
01-23-2017, 07:33 PM
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CherylMatt Offline
Growing old..
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RE: Memories - (Chapter 1-4) - Updated

*** CHAPTER 5 ***

They were in a room. Calling it a room however would be quite an euphemism; when you don't care about bounds, those bounds do not exist. That place didn't have any boundaries, just a vast floor.
Cheryl and Matt were sitting with their legs crossed on this endless floor, they were perhaps two to two and half meters distant and they were facing eachother, with their eyes closed.
Cheryl had her arms and hands resting inside her crossed legs, inside that small gap that occurs if your legs are skinny enough; similarly Matt had his hands placed above his legs, kind of leaning over his thighs.
All around them was dark, it was like deep space without stars, planets, nebulas, clusters, black holes.. nothing. Just black.
The floor however, was very different. It was split in the dead centre between Cheryl and Matt; overall, it was like a 50cm thick glass floor with patterns beneath: on her side, under the "glass" an amber coloured mist could be seen, little particles glowing every now and then would faintly light up and illuminate what was above the glass, much like floor lighting; on his side instead it was like a galaxy had been trapped under ice: lots of random particles, much more chaotic than Cheryl's, would shine in different colours randomly, occasionally even shifting the general appearence of what was under himself.
The floor represents the state of their minds: Cheryl was calm, resoluted, her breathing steady and precise like clockwork, with not even a slight movement from her body.
Matt instead was uneasy, his breath uneven, and his face would occasionally flinch, almost like in pain.
"I feel it, dear" - Cheryl heard. There was no need to open the mouth, they could perfectly communicate with their thoughts.
"What do you feel?" was her answer.
The floor under Matt was never in a quiet state, especially when troubling thoughts were haunting his mind.
"Every second that passes is like extra weight on my shoulders" Matt uttered.
Cheryl didn't move, didn't immediately reply, but the floor under and around her brightened up a little, as to indicate a state of alert.
"...I can feel the pressure increasing"
He wasn't speaking, but to Cheryl his voice still felt like it had cracked up a little; to her, it sounded more like a lament.
"Days are passing by as if they are hours, every second I live is another second I will never have back again"
"Are you afraid to die?" Cheryl finally answered.
Like a skilled analyst, her questions and thoughts were detached from any personal emotion, it was a pure and simple question that needed an answer.
"I am afraid to stop existing"
Cheryl was formulating an answer, thinking of what she could possibly say to "aid him" in this conversation, but another phrase by Matt immediately shifted her attention:
"It will happen soon, judging by how time is flying"
A small particle, a bit brighter than the others, sparked inside the amber mist. Cheryl had just gotten a tiny bit irritated from those words.
"You don't know that. You are still young, time is something that cannot be understood completely" her voice was firm.
"You are almost four years old, I remember 2013"
Matt replied. "I remember 2013, 2013 was four years ago, I still remember it like yesterday" those words were sent to Cheryl one after another with an insane speed and weird spacing, just like a serial stream of data with interference.
His fear was palpable, not only because of the flooring under and around him that kept sparkling in a disordered fashion, but also because his expression was seriously troubled, almost suffering.
"You still have sixty to seventy years to live, Matt" she spoke very firmly, trying to reassure and recompose him. 
"I say that time cannot be understood because that is a long time, way longer than you can imagine" she continued.
Matt did slow down a bit on his descent into despair, but still wasn't quite calm yet.
"How many "four years" are there in seventy years?" - her voice raised up a little to highlight the concept.
Matt slowly replied: "Not a lot" - his voice was quite normal now, but it sounded like he was trying to make a point.
"Seventeen, Matt. A little more than seventeen." Cheryl's voice was still firm, as she was trying to dissipate his precocious fear of death. "seventeen times four" she then paused a bit and added "years." - this last word to Matt felt like a hammer hitting a bell, it left him vibrating a little.
"If you think that is a short time, then you really do not understand how much time that is"
Matt's fear of death was not irrational. Precocious? Yes, but he was merely preparing himself in advance for the inevitable, even though that inevitable is still far, far away.
During their meditating hours, they often would try to sort out those issues that a normal conversation can't possibly aid, either because the subject is taboo or because it requires a special bond between the two of them.
"What if we're a mistake, dear?" Matt inquired. "What if intelligent life, or even life itself, is a mistake?"
Cheryl was ready to answer, but got stopped again: "Uhh, not a mistake! Maybe... just a minuscule probability that shouldn't have happened, but it did?"
"I don't know, Matt. Nobody knows" Cheryl replied.
"But how does humanity even deal with this?"
Another lament by him. His question was not fueled by curiosity, but by fear. Cheryl knew this, at times he wouldn't even be able to fall asleep to this thought. He took life for granted, giving it an end would give an end to himself as well.
"Humanity has many ways to deal with death. Religion, personal beliefs, or they simply don't care."
Time for Matt to utter his question again, but Cheryl, knowing him well, answered the inevitable "Why?" right away.
"Because they are not afraid of it. I believe that eventually, when a person is old enough to look back at the handful of decades he spent in this world, he is able to have a different view on the matter.. something that we, the young, cannot comprehend."
Matt was, you guessed it, not satisfied.
"You don't treat it like a movie.. it's a mistake! there's nothing after death! The end! Game over! You become nothing!"
Word after word his fear kept increasing.
"Who are you to say?" Cheryl said, carefully teasing him. 
"It is as much of a mystery as consciousness is." she continued. Her calm words were like a waterfall crashing down on a burning fire that Matt's fear was.
"Paradise and hell? Please" Matt was still somewhat pissed, although he was calming down.
"It might very well be." Cheryl's voice was more easygoing. "Maybe there's no place. Maybe we all reach a higher spiritual level when we die, or maybe we reincarnate into someone else who has yet to exist.. or we become part of the universe..." and she kept on naming various possibilities.
"Or maybe we just dissipate into absolute nothing" Matt stopped her.
Cheryl shrugged. "Maybe!" - She was now looking at him: he was trying hard to keep a decent meditation posture. The floor under him was still very chaotic, but at least his pain was gone.
She swiftly approached him without him noticing, and whispered to his ear: "Being in pain about it isn't going to help."
Matt didn't notice a thing. "Yes.. well.. I don't want to die." his voice was firm.
"You don't want to make Ace wait too, Matt."
Careful with her movements, Cheryl charged her index finger and gave his nose a little "boop".
Matt gasped, and jumped back like a cat who was abruptly awoken.
"What the fu-" were roughly the words that he exclaimed, while Cheryl bursted into laughter.
"What? Were..?" were his words.
"You should have seen your face!"
Matt was trying to understand what just happened, but the sound of Cheryl laughing made him only more confused.
"Seriously though" - Cheryl spoke with a more serious voice - "I checked. You barely have time to shower and get dressed, Ace waits for you in the office, don't be late"
After that, Cheryl softly chanted some words, and a small orb that was floating around instantly sparkled and brightened up violently.
Although Matt only heard "wake up" he knew what she was doing. After her words he immediately felt siphoned away, like a relentless force dragging him, he immediately lost his mental senses and his presence warped into his material body, where his real and material business awaited.



*** CHAPTER 6 ***

August 2016, Shinjuku. 
After arriving to the Shinjuku Station from Narita Airport, Matt couldn't wait to get to his hotel and have some rest. A jet-lagged italian who has been awake for over 30 hours isn't very useful. Normally he would be on the brink of collapsing, but the adrenaline given by the fact that he was on the other side of the world and the excess amount of sugar that he consumed in the past hours gave him just enough energy and lucidity to keep going. 
Just two weeks after turning 18 and he's already travelling as far as Japan. No big deal to him, he's seen people his age do worse, but still that wouldn't stop people from being surprised, especially when he told them that he was going all by himself, with no one else and no financial support by his parents. 
Is he ever alone though? 
Cheryl was there of course, but she was a little less active than usual. She has a way to deal with tiredness: for some reason, she can't speak Italian quite well when the body is exhausted, therefore she falls back to her signature English language. 
Backpack on his back, luggage on his left and Matt was ready to enjoy the best vacation of his life. 
Bur first, the Shinjuku Station. The biggest train station in the world, always full of people, always feared by tourists, so much that it could be described as an underground city, but even in his state he could get out in less than five minutes. 
Impressive? No. Impressive for an almost collapsing dude? Come on. 
At the exit of Shinjuku station, Matt's eyes adjusted to the outside environment. The massive skyscrapers with big screens, the excessive heat of the summer and the ungodly amount of people left him speechless. 
"Oh! Look at that!" Cheryl chirped. A makeshift arrow appeared in his field of vision. It wasn't truly imposed, more like a faint presence. The arrow shifted and pointed at what she wanted him to see. It pointed to one of the biggest skyscrapers, in particular one of the biggest screens Matt's ever seens and a massive sign that everybody in Japan knows. They were in front of the Studio Alta, maybe the most famous rendezvous point for Japanese people. 
Matt was speechless. The amount of input he was receiving from all over the place was too much for him to handle, while being so tired. 
The most peculiar thing about travelling abroad is the scent in the air. Japan smelled.. clean to him. Everywhere he went the air was much more "flavoured" than his home country, as if someone poured window cleaner everywhere and the scent tainted the whole country. But it wasn't a bad smell. 
Italy and Scotland on the other hand.. ew. 
Reaching the hotel was essentially not difficult, he only got confused once where his map apparently told him to cross the railway. Took him long enough to realize there was a tiny passage hidden between two shops that allowed you to go under the railways and get to the Nishi (west) side of Shinjuku. 
Japan is like that. If you look above your head all you see is futuristic skyscrapers, huge screens and the occasional plane passing by. At ground level though, there's literally hundreds of little shops, mostly restaurants, with an old fashioned design.
Matt arrived at his hotel, the TokyuStay,  one hour prior to the designated check-in time. The staff kindly allowed him to be relieved of his luggage so he could at least go have lunch freely. 
So.. you're in Tokyo, you've planned this trip for a year, you love sushi so much that in your home country you do 1 hour of driving to reach your favourite restaurant, so what the fuck could you possibly eat as a first meal once you're there? 
Curry, of course. Coco Curry was literally standing next to the hotel, and his collapsing body screamed "Nah" at the request of Matt to reach Sushi Zanmai (30 minutes away by walk).
The rest of vacation was amazing, it could be described in details but it doesn't relate much to the subject of this text. Cheryl did buy ungodly amount of ramen and things from the conbini, went to the sushi restaurant and had a nice walk in Shinjuku. Things went well.
04-16-2017, 05:09 AM
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CherylMatt Offline
Growing old..
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#6
 
RE: Memories - (Chapter 1-8) - Updated (Happy Days))

*** CHAPTER 7 ***

"Do you feel like we're a carbon copy of them?" Cheryl asked.
"I mean..." - Matt was puzzled - "Many of the details are awfully similar"
They had been listening to a very special audio
in the past 30 minutes. Due to work reasons he had to take a two hour trip by train, and he used this occasion to listen to a long lost piece of.. tulpa history.
Titled "koomer.avi", it's a 30 minute long conversation between Koomer/Oguigi and Wes, perhaps Koomer's best friend (or his brother?). The topics of the talk varied from the very basics (what a tulpa is etc.) to a more down to earth practical example (Oguigi speaking directly to him).
Matt had been unusually quiet during the listening, instead Cheryl was often commenting on what was going on.
After the listen, Matt didn't say much, but he did say this:
"Essentially they did what we did, only earlier"
Cheryl agreed. She later added:
"It is interesting how you can clearly distinguish them, even just from a simple audio."

Matt initially didn't agree on this, the first ten minutes of the audio (Oguigi explaining to his host's best friend what she was, and what was going on) left him with a skeptic feeling.
"I will believe everything, no matter how crazy it sounds, if you give to me solid evidence of what you're claiming" - those are more or less the words of Isaac Asimov, and they hold a concept that to Matt is extremely valuable. It is what held him from gaining serious progress with Cheryl for the longest time. And even in this situation, he had a bit of skepticism on this audio and the words coming from Koomer/Oguigi's mouth, up until by personal experience and large amounts of "convincing" from Oguigi he started believing their words as well.
"They did royally screw up in the end though" Matt whispered to Cheryl, as an answer to her first question.
"Let's not follow them on that part, shall we?" she smiled. She wasn't worried.
"So they did not want to escape life, just experience new ways of living" she added,
swiftly changing topic.
"Meh, they always begin this way, especially the newcomers.. then you know what happens"
Cheryl raised her eyebrows and looked down "I believe them."
"Takes some balls to do this kind of conversation, letting your tulpa speak to your pal" he added, while yawning.
"Oh yes, I remember when I had dinner with Biagio.." Cheryl chirped, with a playful voice.
Those words reacted with Matt like a bucket of water reacts to a sleeping cat. Matt gasped while yawning and got a weird look from the passenger sitting in front of him, he then looked outside the window: "FUCK that night, cara!" he grunted. He wasn't mad, just feeling uneasy about the subject.
Cheryl laughed. "Oh come on, it wasn't so bad.." and to Matt rolling his eyes she added "especially how Biagio asked lots of questions about me..."
Carefully teasing him was her hobby, his exaggerated action and childish behavior was funny to her. As long as they were joking, it's fine.
Cara means "dear" and he often calls her that way. Why? Go play Portal 2. The turret song is italian opera.

"They were also driving while talking.." Matt added, after regaining posture.
".../she/ was driving, cara." he continued.
He does tease back sometimes too. At least, he tries.
Cheryl picked that up immediately.
"Nope. I don't feel like driving yet. You're not expert enough yet."
"But I feel ready~" - Matt chirped - "and by the way, as you heard, it's Oguigi who wanted to drive..."
"So?"
"So..." Matt was trying to find an unnecessary and slightly dumb rebuttal, but he could already feel a... "disturbance" in the force, or rather in her mood, so he decided to change subject.

"So... lepore!"
"Hm." - she replied.
I won't even try to explain what that word means. It's nothing, and everything. Something that would make "Hitchhiker Guide to The Galaxy" conundrums feel cheap.
Doesn't matter, in Lepo we trust.



*** CHAPTER 7.5 ***
[Author's note]

As you might have guessed, this is just rambling. Things that have happened between us. I write them down to remember them in the future, and also to share them.
I don't read comments, I don't care about what people think about this "project" because it really doesn't matter. I started while on vacation in Edimburgh, because I was bored. It first began as a slightly exaggerated sci-fi novel (although the things I wrote on Chapter 1 really happened) and then it shifted slowly but surely into "daily life with Matt and Cheryl" something I would just narrate to my best friend and to those who are willing to listen.

It's fascinating. I don't know how this text is being received. I know for a fact that there is some interest considering the view counts of this thread but other than that I don't much care what you have to say. Knowing all about it in the end would probably change radically how I write these things. As of now I still dump all of my thoughts into words, I don't really care to filter anything out, unless Cheryl (or my own guts) ask me to do so, it rarely happens.
I also try to stay honest, and humble. How pointless it is to narrate things that have not happened? I would just waste my (and your) time. This could very well be an example of how a seemingly balanced life between a young adult and his now 5 year old tulpa.

She is going to be five years old in six days. Five.
I'm still baffled at how fast time has passed. That does kind of feed into my fear of death, but I don't like to admit it.
Still, it is quite an accomplishment for me to have made such an entity (although I do admit that she has mostly made herself out of my personal need for someone like her, not because I am a good host)

There isn't a time schedule for this. I do write it up when I feel like it (or when I'm extremely bored, just like now). Sometimes when things happen I say to her "oh this is something I can write down" and then I forget about it.
Talking about that....



*** CHAPTER 8 ***

Some time ago, Matt's house, 2am.
Dead silent in the room, pitch black. The monotony of this only broken by the light coming from his smartphone.
Since he was a child he has always suffered insomnia, which might or might actually not be there. Let's just say he hates sleeping.
Huge waste of time, he says, life is short and he doesn't really want to waste time sleeping.
Yes, that's the "honorable" excuse for it. In reality he just has a poor sense of time.

He's often on a time schedule for projects, his work demands him to be on time (and italians are notorious for being on time... I guess?) so he has grown accustomed to shifting his sleep schedule from day to night in worringly short amounts of time; Cheryl however, has not.
"Must you really watch this now? You do realize you need to wake up tomorrow at 8am?" she said, in a serious tone.
"Sorrysorrysorry, this is the last one I promise".
-this- is nothing more than one of the videos about a subject he is currently researching.
He has this habit of studying something to death and beyond when he wants to buy something. God knows how many hundreds of videos he has watched about his camera, his car, or his particular computer setup.
Often for work he has to come up with audiovisual setups for corporate projects or similar, and the amount of time he spends researching every minute detail could surely be commendable with a thousands medals, if only he'd do it in the day.

Cheryl never grew accustomed to "sudden" sleep schedule shifts, and it always leaves her in this constant "tired" state that happens because the brain can't keep up with both.
But how do you fight with something like that? We have a stubborn human who is a borderline perfectionist and wouldn't stop at nothing to complete his current task, not even exhaustion.
This has left some "scars" on him as well - memory issues, sometimes he can't recall immediate things that have happened - and sudden tiredness. Cheryl on the other hand has trouble speaking italian and is often too tired to keep up with him.

This is a bad habit. And Cheryl has been trying for years to eradicate it. But what do you know, if the patient is stubborn, not much can be done.
Not even brute force. Sometimes she would just get so mad at him for being so stupid to pin it down with force. She can do that, although reluctantly.
After "freeing" him, here she comes with the elaborate speech about what he is doing is wrong and why he should stop.
This however, doesn't help much because Matt, being as stubborn as he is, indulges and he accepts what she has to say but the next day the story repeats.

So one day, she changed approach.
"So you don't want to sleep, is that right?" Cheryl spoke with a very calm tone, although with a subliminal anger that could break planets.
"I do want to sleep, I'm just looking at this one last thing-" Matt said, probably not even caring about it, kind of like a mantra.
"That's okay, you can do whatever you want, it's your life" Cheryl finished the discussion immediately. "I don't want to discuss with you and I realized that if you don't want to help yourself then there's nothing much I can do."
And so it went. She just stopped fighting for it. Matt would just reach a little farther every day until exhaustion.

This was also during the time when he couldn't even learn to enter his own mind, let alone switch.

Days later, after waking up with 3 hours of sleep, after driving 200km and done the impossible, he just collapsed. Emotionally and physically. On the way out of the mall to his car he suddenly felt lost, his body weakened and he could barely set foot straight.
Cheryl could only stare at the horror, according to her the body rejected any and all commands, and there's nothing she could have done.
After entering his car, Matt collapsed on the driving seat, breathing heavily and with his heart racing. Everything was fuzzy, and all he could hear was his tulpa screaming his name in despair.
And after that, dark.

Roughly two hours later, he woke up. His body was sore, his mind confused and his tulpa as desperate as ever
"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" Cheryl screamed in what could be considered a mixture of concern and anger.
"I think... " Matt couldn't speak. Luckily he always keeps a bottle of water in his car. After drinking and regaining his posture, all he could say was: "Non l'ho pensata bene" - ("I didn't think this through").
"Don't tell me che... non te l'avevo detto" Cheryl uttered, in distress.
("Don't tell me that I didn't warn you for this).
She had barely enough strenght to function, and her tiredness wouldn't let her stitch a phrase together in one language.

How they (she) fixed it will come soon.
03-12-2018, 03:10 AM
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