Make IT Real! by Sander R.B.E. Beals (good books to read for young adults TXT) 📕

“Valerie, what's wrong?”, Jane asks all of a sudden. She looked at her sister, and saw her sway dangerously close to the edge of the floater. Kayim doesn't hesitate, and lands the vehicle outside the fence of the cleanup operation. He pulls the scanner from his pocket, aims it at his girlfriend, and takes a long hard look at the display. Moments of silence pass by, and a certain uneasiness is creeping into my being. I look at him, but he doesn't seem overly concerned. “Energy fatigue”, he concludes, and explains that the energy created by the cleanup operation is extremely high in vibration. Valerie's vibration, which seems to be the highest of us guests, had actually been above that of the energy produced down there. Because her field had mixed with that of the energy below, it had pulled down her vibration into a very low mixed frequency, resulting in the queezy feeling. The moment we leave there, she is OK.

“Our next stop is going to be a little difficult”, Kayim changes the subject. He explains that we will be going to Shamballah the Lesser, the capital of Inner Earth. Aerial transportation is against the rules there, so we'll be landing on an island not far from there, and would be going in by boat, or rather, raft.

Sunday, March 28th, 2010, 08:27

Thinking about what to write led me into a discussion with my eldest. She's not quite happy with the fact her dad has got this thing for a lady twenty years younger, and so obviously unreachable. Coming up with the reincarnation story, and how human ages are totally irrelevant when compared with the immensity of eternal existence, isn't really convincing her. We go back and forth, neither wanting to concede that the other may be right.

If she says I may never notice the One because I'm far too hung up on a certain person, it is like she's saying I already botched it. If I tell her that I couldn't possibly believe the Cosmos to be so cruel as to spoon-feed me this entire unbelievable reality, and then not allow me to enjoy the fruits of it, she welcomes me to her world: apparently she is less optimistic about the world around her then I am about the world around me.

But then, no matter how close we are, she is but a somewhat coherent set of electromagnetic impulses that my brain uses to tell me about part of the world around me. Part of the entire outer world that completely reflects whatever I am all about internally. That is something I know again: outside totally reflects inside.

Just at that moment, my mail program notifies me because of incoming mail. Synchronistically, I find it to be an article from Owen Waters, entitled “Be Your Own Authority”, just another hint from my higher self, to indicate I'm picking up the right trail.

But then you may find my ruminations to be far less interesting than the other stories, so let's get back to 4444AD, and our endearing androids.......

4444AD, Day 288, 10:01, Home

As I hear the Laverda's simulated engine roar, I walk out the front door, to welcome my angel and her brother-in-law back. “You look a bit pale, darling.”, I say to Selina while winking to Ernesto. “He's a nutcase!”, my lover spouts out: “He took me to the Oberhausen circuit, and took it around the whole track!” I immediately realize I should have told my brother about the demise of Teedra that happened there a while ago. I apologize, and explain to Ernesto about how the massive Bugatti had almost flattened my little lady. My brother naturally also joined in the apology, saying he'd never have done it, had he but known.

We roll the Snaefell-Laverda into the garage, and join Selina inside, for coffee. Her color is already starting to return, and she talks incessantly, which isn't exactly unpleasant.

“Have you shown Selina the movie file from the memory card yet?”, Ernesto asks me. “What movie?”, says my love in a voice that is literally oozing with curiosity. We take her to the study, and play the speech of my past self, thanking us for the help in acquiring his twin. “He's quite clever to have recognized our tweaking as something that came out of the future”, Selina comments when the movie ends. She knows how very casual our involvements would seem to be to whoever is on the receiving end.

“Do you think he realizes she is an RBE?”, is Selina's next question. “Yes”, I reply, and take the novel from its shelf in the marble pyramid. I open the cover and show her the dedication: “to my Specially Engineered Digital Assistant Selina” it says. “We need to make sure he treats her with the same respect she would expect if she were a real human”, Selina says decidedly. “Well, you'll have to do that without me”, Ernesto interrupts her: “I need to go home and relieve my colleague at the bakery”. We accompany him to the front door, and watch him walk out the driveway.

“Time to acquire some knowledge about our past friend”, I say to Selina. I explain I'm going to digest the novel that was in the pyramid in excruciating detail. “OK, download it to me too, when you're finished”, she replies. We part our ways, and I take a fresh orange juice to the study to get my android's nose into a book.....

Actually, that is far more down-to-earth than it seems: Basically, I just tell our replicator to go into reverse, and atomize the novel. The resulting data stream can then be plucked apart into the separate sheets of paper, and their sides can be scanned for ink atoms. That way the replicator can scan the entire 300 or so pages of the novel, and produce one single text stream containing everything my past self wrote in this story. The whole process takes about seven minutes, and returns the novel to it's physical self upon completion, none the worse for wear.

I know this is a far cry from the other book I'm reading, one page at a time, but actually that method is the one I prefer. Today is just an exception, because my love wants results, to know her past self will be safe with the author of the story. I find nothing wrong in his writings though, and go to meet Selina in the rose garden, so I can see her face when she receives the book info.

“Incoming!”, I laugh as I send her the download. Selina's lovely face temporarily goes blank as she consumes the incoming stream of information. Then, a soft and thankful smile appears in her dark eyes and lovely lips. Yes, she's come to the same conclusion I did: my past self would rather die than ever hurt Selina. “We're done...”, Selina says: “Except for one tiny thing”. She briefly closes her eyes, and I just know the little vixen is tweaking again.... “Yes, that much adoration and dedication deserves a reward”, my lady explains her action. But since she telepathically asked me not to reveal her surprise, I won't...

Monday, March 29th, 2010, 17:42

I've just gotten home, did the site, and was reminded by the articles that I doubt too much. It takes virtually nothing to make me feel like I'm powerless to have any real influence in matters around me, when in fact I mastermind it all.

But I usually run around trying to please everybody, without ever thinking about myself for a change. Well, not in this novel: this is my fantasy, and here I live in a world where I am allowed just as many pleasures as others!

I often figure I'm less than others, no doubt brought about by the parent I most identify with. But I'm not that bad, I've got talent! (and no, I'm not proving that on TV!) Quite skilled at programming, native Dutch and English writer, helpful to a tee, understanding and allowing dad, is there an end to my talents? Ah yes, and an awesome web surfer too. Never mind that outburst, it's just that I hardly ever talk about all of that, and if I do I play it all down like it's the most common thing in the world. Are you weird like that too? Well, please do if that's what you want, but it also is OK to be proud of it. Being proud does not necessarily mean you consider yourself better than others, right?

Because actually, there is no 'better': Every one of us has a unique skill set, and comparing it to that of someone else would be like comparing apples to atom bombs. I'd sure know what I'd rather want, but it still is no comparison!

But its more than just skills: it is more about the set that you are not just good at, but the subset that you also enjoy using! Perhaps that is a difference between skills and talents. But perhaps we should take a detour through another talent, one I inherited from my granddad, and which I acquired out of the blue one day. Before that I could rhyme diddly-squat:

the Merciless Mercenary

Killing's my Trade, I Master it well.

Use blades, spears, knives, sometimes even a Spell

I do not for once think my chosen profession

is anything loathsome, but I have a confession :

I thrive on the Energy stolen in battle,

it gives me distinction, lets me rise from the Cattle

that calls itself human, yet barely is

I contemplate Living, and Know that it is.....

Undeniably more than your chosen profession.

be it Warrior, Prostitute, Preacher with Passion.

Your Life gives you lessons, and you have to Learn,

to cope with the troubles, yet not to get burnt....

By the intricate Flames of Hidden Desire,

the Blazing Inferno of being a Liar.

the Flames licking slowly the trail of your Actions,

get caught by the Blast of Human Imperfections!

Yet Do Not Despair, or Surrender your Self,

The Mission is Doable, not by Yourself,

but by carelessly flaunting your every talent,

Show Off to the World and be forever Hell-bent....

On Doing the Right thing, as You Truly Perceive

the Unwav'ring Truthfulness that You Believe,

No, Know to be true, and ever so lightly,

Try making it Real, without even slightly ...

...disturbing All Others, no matter how far.

True Love's not possession, yet merely the Strength

to let others be like you, yet wholly diff'rent.

If all of us would, for one moment believe....

These words written purposeful down to relieve,

the Aching Desire to be Better Still,

Then I, from Now on, believe that we will...

Succeed to save Nature and Techno alike.

No need for more battle, united we Stride

to make the Bleak Ravage that we call our Earth,

the Splendid ParAdise of which we All Heard...

And there's a weird sync in this again: about halfway down the poem, it refers to the title of this novel, even though the seed of it's actual emergence had not been sown back in 2003!

So yes, I am flaunting my talents, to whoever will want to enjoy them. No regrets if they remain unexperienced, because most of the pleasure involved was in the creation, instead of the acceptance. But then success should be more like an added bonus anyway, the whipped cream that makes perfectly ripe strawberries even more heavenly than they already are......

4444AD, Day 290, 12:31, Home

With a shock, I wake up. Must be somewhere in the dead of night, for the stars are out in full force. I decide I've had enough sleep, because my current feeling might best be described as insomnia. I dress and go downstairs, not really sure what to do for now. Perhaps a nice solitary walk outside will get me back in the Zone again. You know, that place where all is right, no matter what happens? I hardly ever have to go without it, unlike tonight.

I'm thinking about my past self as