For a living, might I add. For a living. These are my family, my friends, my neighbors? Less human are they than those that I killed, killed for these sub-, or as they believe, superhumans. But there must be Balance, right?

To look on infinity with finite eyes is idiocy, and yet everyday I sit and watch as thousands push their luck far past what is sensible and intelligent. The human being is the most intelligent creature on this earth, and yet we are so foolish that we believe that infinity is reachable, just as the glass at the top of the shelf can be reached with the help of a chair, with the help of “Something.” Many people question about this “Something,” and many disputes are caused by the horrid amounts of answers.

Answers, yes, answers I said. For that is what they all are. Answers from a finite mind to explain the infinite. Very intelligent is the mind of a human. And yet we are the most intelligent creature on this planet called by us earth. If this could be true, then I suppose I would not like to know what other creatures would say if they had the ability to speak. Fortunately for us, animals, for we are not animals, cannot speak. Where am I going?

At least those ones over there were not as idiotic as these. They were of course stupid, their minds finite as well, but infinity is a lie anyhow, so what does it matter? In the end there is only Balance. If there were a God, He Himself would be but a puppet to Balance. Yet we humans are self-aware enough to see the truth of life. What could be more chauvinistic than being able to see the truth and still following the lies? Well, there is no truth anyhow, that is, except for Balance.

Self-awareness is another fantastic topic of choice. What could be more disputable then the fact that we know who we are. Do not animals know that they are of that species? Perhaps they do not have a name for it, but do not animals know that they are individual entities? Can animals not know of their own traits, feelings, behaviors, and can they not have a personality? Where am I going? Of course, with our “infinite wisdom,” humans have determined that we are the only creatures with a language, and the only self-aware creatures on this planet called by us earth. If not a human, then a beast.

Yet beast can be used to describe men. How can this be so? If a man is self-aware and can use language, then he cannot be a beast, for he is a man. Yet in book after book I have read of men being beasts. Beasts are said not to have language, and not to be self-aware. Is it possible that man can lose self-awareness? Can a man lose language? Language is the foundation for culture, and if man loses language, he loses culture, and so becomes a beast. Yet the man still is within the culture, being called a beast because of his temper, or because of his actions. For these it could be said that he has “beast-like qualities,” but the only qualities that describe a beast are the loss of language and the inability to be self-aware.

Beasts are fun. Perhaps they have more intelligence than we humans. Why not, they stay away from us, or at least do their best to. A truly intelligent man would know so much that he could understand that he knew nothing. The brilliant man would have the blue prints and never create the computer. Yet these idiots live in computers. I can see them, all of them, sitting around screens, some large, some small, sitting there day in and out. Where am I going? I see them through the windows. The glass and shades that protect us all. They group, like a pack or a nest, and they pretend to think. The world was much more real over there.

Time and time over the words have come rushing to my mind, whether by word of mouth or from page to eye, yet the words remain similar to “a man is intelligent, and men are stupid.” If this is true, why is it that men tend to stay in groups. If grouping leads inevitably to stupidity, why is it that all our science is by groups? Should not scientists know that a group can only produce stupidity?

These questions cannot be answered, and yet we are the most intelligent creatures on this planet called by us earth. And here I am among them, just another finite mind trapped here, and there, there for 5 years, here for the rest of my LIFE.

“Blast these questions and my quarrelsome mind for the arguments they’ve created!” he shouted as all attention on the street moved quickly to him. Until then, not one person had noticed him stumbling down the avenue with his hands in his pockets and his eyes on the ground, but he was now the center of attention in the street. People were staring at him from the sidewalk, from their hovers, and from behind closed windows and drawn curtains. Judas, still long lost in his own thoughts, had not yet noticed that he had shouted, let alone the many judgmental stares following him as he stumbled down the street, sometimes putting one foot in front of the other, and sometimes letting it fall off to the side.

Of course, everyone was surprised to see a man such as this simply walking down the street. Here was a man, a War Hero, walking down the street in his uniform, which he had never taken off, that was quite dirty by now, mumbling to himself and then shouting for no reason. There was not a single person that did not believe him to have gone insane. Three days had it been since the War Party had come home. All of them in clean uniforms with medals hanging here and there, but none had more gold present upon his chest then did Judas. Yet somehow, this great War Hero never made it home, for here he was, wondering the streets, now all dirty and medals dented and scratched, three days after his return and never once had he changed clothes! What could possibly have happened other then the loss of this great man’s mind? And yet he was known for his steady hand and quick wit to get his unit through many difficulties while across enemy lines.

And somehow I cannot answer myself. Where am I? Somehow I have lost my mind which I once held so dear. Once I was intelligent, wise, and well known. Not that long ago I was a Hero, and yet now I am nothing but a man in rags and losing my mind. “NOTHING!” he muttered to himself, a little too loudly once again. And still the leering had not stopped, quite the contrary, for now it was paired with laughter and it was still increasing in magnitude.

Of course there is no man that cannot feel the leers of so many, and cannot hear the laughter, and Judas was no different. He heard the laughter, he saw the leers, and somehow he managed to ignore it longer then any could believe to be humanly possible. In the end, though, he had to look up and realize that he was the center of attention.

Yes, yes, now they laugh at me. I kept them safe, kept them all safe. I went over into that far away country that no one has ever heard of and fought for their lives by putting mine on the line. I was behind enemy lines for them, and still they laugh. “Laugh it up, fools,” he said as he looked around at the many people crowding the roads. “Your end will come! All of us will see the end long before it is reached. Insanity may be my vice, but remember that it is caused by my gift to you.”

And then Judas ran. Ran with all the speed of a Soldier. He ran down the lonely concrete of the roads that had at one time circled the globe like a spider’s web. Now they lie in waste, useless, fading from our memories as they fade from existence. Who needs roads when they can fly wherever they choose? And who needs to fly when teleportation is much faster? Of course every house now has a teleporter in it; it’s required by law. The people did not understand why he would walk? What was the point in inconveniencing himself by walking out in the street, instead of using the teleporter that they installed in his house while he was away, or at least the hover that was left for him at the dock where the War Party had returned?

Insanity must have been set in from his time away. It was only 5 years, and yet so much had changed. Perhaps he could not adapt to live a way that he had not been living for 5 years. He had to adapt when he went there, that country that no one knows of. They had not the technology that we have. Of course. A place that still uses automobiles and roads, and where people still have need of walking. Of course he would go insane after that. Who wouldn’t go insane after having to live through that, and then coming back to this new technology? He’ll be fine. Of course he’ll be fine.

It was quite some time before Judas stopped running. “Ah! To feel the breeze in my hair again! It has not been this way since I left that country. The small country that I fought for their lives in. The one that no one has heard of.” Of course by now there was no one around, and his speech stayed unheard. “If only I could go back there again. Not in war, YOU PEOPLE DON’T DESERVE A WAR, but without hatred, without fear of not living more than a day.”

Where am I? Where have I gone? Where am I going?

Go back as one of them. Yes. I could be one of them. Those human, the real humans, not these sub/superhumans I’ve seen so much of lately. No more teleporters or hovers or anything else made to see the world for us. Yes, yes, I’d love it. “If only I could!” His thoughts could not be contained, and continually he shouted things of this nature randomly at the birds. The birds that surrounded him seemed to have more compassion then the people behind those windows.

The windows, the glass, the glass separated them. There is no glass between me and the birds. Good that the birds are compassionate, are caring. If not for the glass between me and those other human beings, would I still be alive at this moment? Wouldn’t they have killed me? There’s no telling that, but it seems more and more like I’m over there again. I’m still defending my life, my god forsaken life, from those blasted humans. “Here I am, talking to the birds because they seem to care more then those blasted humans!”

Faster and faster Judas walked. Soon he was jogging, faster and faster. “Fly with the birds, for they will show me a better life then my own kin.” Running again, Judas could only see the birds. They surrounded him now. Black and red and blue and yellow, all around him as he just kept on running, running, “Flying! I’m Flying! And look at the colors, the colors speak to me!”

What is my problem, I’m going insane. These birds are everywhere, but “Look at the colors!” There cannot possibly be this many birds. Where am I? “Oh, the birds and the bees are under my control!” he screamed as he heard buzzing and saw the honey dripping from the hive. Still, I’m flying. “I can do anything! I can leave this planet called by them earth.”

And so he did. He left with the birds, and the bees, always flying, flying away to some other world, some other planet that he could name, that he could call whatever he wished.

“And let it be my Home!”

And let it stay my home, he thought as the twang of metal clashing with metal rang out behind him.

The sniper laughed at such an easy shot.