Think Forward.

Fantasy

The Gods only forge the Great.

EL MONO MAS GRANDE, 3 mon.
One day in deep meditation the Biggest Ape met an unborn boy. The boy was alone, scared and deeply disturbed. When he saw the Biggest Ape he ran towards him, heavy tear drops running down his cheeks. - "I saw my future!" cried the boy, kneeling in front the Biggest Ape. - "And?" grunted the Biggest Ape. - "It's horrible!" screamed the child in terror. "It's all treasons a many, strife, pain and suffering, for 20 years from the moment I hit 5." - "What happens, after 25?" Inquired the Biggest Ape. - "I don't know, I was too scared to keep looking." - "Come." said the Biggest Ape. He took him to the top of a mountain, to a secret doorway that leads deep into the earth. For many hours they walked in silent darkness until they heard the sound of metal pouding against metal. They pressed on for a few minutes entering the biggest forge the boy has ever seen. At the center a solitary figure, a big burly man, shirtless, with a long grey beard was pounding a huge piece of metal with a gigantic hammer. He was very hairy, reminding the boy of the Biggest Ape. The man raised his eyes at the Biggest Ape and nodded, the Biggest Ape nodded back and motioned the boy to move closer. -"This is going to be a magnificent sword", whispered the Biggest Ape. "fit for a God". Then gesturing to his left he pointed to a heap of scrap metal. "There are all the metal pieces that could not withstand the hammering and the tempering. They broke, they *abandoned*" . The boy was fascinated. The Biggest Ape placed is right hand over the boys eyes, completely covering his face. The little man let a scream, opening his mouth in astonishment. -"What did you see?" -"I saw the most perfect man, the man beyond man. I saw temples, and statues erected of him centuries after his death. I saw his name on paper and walls for Millenia." -"That sword is being made for him. And that man is you". Then looking at the pile of scrap metal, the deep voice of the Biggest Ape echoed in the forge: == "The Gods test everybody, but only forge the Great." == -"I understand", replied the boy. Thus Spake Apathustra.

I Saw Aicha Kandisha, And I Am Cursed To Never Forget

Anas Bedraoui, 7 mon.
3 min read.
Deep in the heart of Moroccan lore, where ancient spirits linger like echoes in the Sahara’s wind, lies a tale that turns the blood of its listeners to ice. This isn’t just a story; it’s a personal confession, a chilling recount of my encounter with the feared Aicha Kandisha on the night of July 15, 2009. It was the height of summer in 2009 when my interest in the myths of Morocco led me to a quaint village cradled by the Atlas Mountains. Among the local spirits, Aicha Kandisha is perhaps the most captivating and terrifying. Depicted with the legs of a goat and a bewitching beauty that belies her true nature, she is both feared and revered as a water jinn who brings a curse upon any man who lays eyes upon her. Driven by a blend of skepticism and intrigue, I dismissed the stern warnings of the villagers and made my way to a stream rumored to be haunted on the outskirts of the village. As the sun dipped below the horizon and the clock neared 8:43 PM, I found myself standing by the gently flowing waters enveloped in the heavy, sweet scent of wild jasmine — a smell that was soon accompanied by an unsettling sense of foreboding. At precisely 9:17 PM, a sudden, icy wind cut through the valley, rustling the leaves and carrying with it the faint murmur of ancient voices. The air grew colder, and I felt an eerie sensation of being watched. When I turned, my heart seized at the sight before me. There, by the water’s edge, stood a figure of both mesmerizing and horrific aspect. Her beauty was otherworldly, with eyes that smoldered like dark embers and skin that glowed softly under the moonlight. Yet, it was her legs that truly horrified — cloven and covered in coarse black fur, they stamped lightly on the soft earth as she moved towards me with an unsettling grace. Rooted to the spot, I watched as she approached. She spoke in a voice that was both melodious and laden with a deep, enduring sorrow, “Why do you seek me, son of distant lands?” Her gaze pierced deep into my soul, paralyzing me further. I was unable to speak, completely caught in her hypnotic presence. She circled around me, her intense fragrance of jasmine growing stronger and more heady, almost overpowering in its intensity. “Many have sought me out, driven by curiosity or what they perceive as bravery. Few have managed to leave without bearing some form of scar,” she whispered, her voice chilling as her breath brushed against my ear. The wind grew into a roar by 9:36 PM, now carrying with it the screams of those long tormented and lost. The waters of the stream began to thrash and churn as if something ancient and monstrous stirred beneath its surface. Fear gripped me entirely, and in a desperate attempt to communicate, I found my voice, “I meant no disrespect, I merely wished to learn more,” I stammered, my voice barely a whisper, pleading for some semblance of mercy. Her laughter rang out then, a sound that seemed to mock my very existence, resonant and echoing through the valley, “Then learn you shall,” she declared ominously, “But remember, all knowledge comes at a price.” She vanished into the night at 9:45 PM, leaving me alone by the now tumultuous stream, her lingering presence like a cold shadow in the air. I made my way back to the village, a changed man. The villagers saw the terror etched upon my face and the unnatural pallor of my skin. They knew without words that Aicha Kandisha had marked me, a silent testament that certain mysteries should indeed remain untouched. To this day, I am haunted by nightmares filled with the scent of jasmine and the pale light of the moon. Her mocking laughter echoes in my ears, a cruel reminder of my encounter. Each night as the air grows thick with the fragrance of jasmine and the shadows lengthen under the moonlight, I feel her icy gaze upon me from the darkness, watching and perhaps amused by my lingering terror, ready to remind me once more of the dreadful cost of my forbidden curiosity. The encounter has left an indelible mark on my psyche, a deep-seated fear that perhaps some secrets are indeed too perilous to explore, and that some spirits, like Aicha Kandisha, are better left in the realm of the unknown.
medium.com/entropies/i-saw-aicha...

Rock Lined Pockets

Taha Mrichi, 12 mon.
0 min read.
See the alarm in the shark’s cadence, Hear the sharp seagull’s cry: The merling king has come! The merling king has come! Jellyfish floating around his cloudy crystal crown Like translucent passive thoughts of aggression. Will he forgive your primate indiscretion? In his court of slime and rock sublime He beckons you with open tentacles to join his circle of hedonistic companions. The mermaid is a murderous creature. The dolphins are wanton and wild. What’s that in your pockets? The inquisitive mollusk asks. Rocks. Of the precious kind? No. His soft limbs curl back in plain disappointment. From under a shell a faint voice cautioned, Do not trust in the soft bodied rogue’s trade. Down here the written word is as fleeting as the spoken one.