The xenomorph, the perfect organism, instinctively saw me and in it’s gastronomic anxiety, transformed somehow into a man like me. Stood up, and starting walking, learnt fire, water, wind, earth, and metal. Built the wheel, then the gun. Later society, people, money, and India. Now I’m suffocated by it’s repulsive.

A being which only kills, from the black goo, on its own turns into a neomorph a लेसू stands straight like the natives. Then watches me all the time instinctively, and turns himself into a xenomorph in no time, even before I could see it coming, the one, an icon was born. How do I survive now that it is the perfect predator. It becomes what I just can’t tolerate, everything I can’t stand too, a निकले.

That’s one criminal that I seriously don’t know how to overcome. It won’t die it will just haye, so can’t kill it either. This kind, perfect organism. I can’t escape it just numerous encounters. If I stay inside an enclosure it will draw me out through haye. It just wants me to die on my own too. A predator I can’t get over until I see it dead, then it brings in another one of its kind. What am I supposed to do? Just Darr.

Then why do you go back to it when it s gone? It was the piles of dog poop of people maker in those newspapers I used to read. Somebody died in terror strikes, or plane crash, or school shooting, in fast cars, in some icu, etc. Or just some freak incident. And all this socially too. Moms familys money land women. I’m not in the habit of bringing their agents here. They just keep waiting for them and nobody shows up. In dispair they start cursing me. He is some sir who’s been chasing me for long, I just evade him only. Someday he’ll turn me into an anecdote.

Now, on the hindsight, imagine a meal, a real खाना, a real safe area. This isn’t the icon you knew of or praised or waited for. This is the only real that I could ever know of, experience or live. Odyssey निकले.

As soon as we start coming in range, the chain reaction between us stirs a concoction of pure haye for me then starts the introduction of imperfections in the delivery method. But it should feel perfect for me. A no escape no win scenario. A lasting memory or वहम or Yaad for me. So I should not forget my icons in life.

Sometimes icons who are exhausted and rendered by me go to a dormant state. They are abandoned by the world as they achieved salvation by haying me earlier in life. Those are monsters of their own right. I keep them in a hidden place where they can be used by me as a relic of haye. Another kind of icons, also monsters of high reckoning sometimes are not able to haye me at all, then I turn them into a man, a simple being and send them to an Undiscovered country, where they lead a life like mine.

So when I turned on the TV the big bang took place. Life started on earth. A couple of people called family and relatives were born and brought me up giving me tv shows one after the another. They did not stand the test of time and brought in society, which got in friends and maids. Now nobody’s there. Just couple of humanoids called निकले who keep the TV running. All channels have these निकले in them. Between TV viewing is hell, pain and suffering. Whoever is not निकले is haye here. So I avoid them. I put them in other channels, international ones which look the same and look like haye containments for me.

I’ve not seen equilibrium but I’ll try to put together in words the reaction I assimilated from some scenes. In a city of warring clans each feasting on the other bringing in the next most arrogant priest with the most number of kills. In evil dead its just some spirit that keeps at it even inside from the protagonist. Inside the ring, two super bads just keep fighting and rest of them just keep the ring hot and going on forever. Outside all preisets keep killing each other or keep dying at the hands of other priests to keep the ring going on forever. I get to watch the super bads in the ring, called the bhabi show. How many shows could I possibly survive so I need to keep away heal, and watch the latest episodes only.

In a ghost town, there are no rules no reality, just a xen where their is no life. Me and you a relative entangled engagement. This war is one of cover ups no contacts. In myself I just troll a wasted city in circles looking for an icon that I can walk on otherwise it’s a hell hole. While im stuck in this ridiculous plane, in this world in the realm of many infinite icons, I’m connected in real time with many forms that these icons are fighting in some relative plane. So there are wars, crimes, events, accidents, hospitals, theaters, businesses where I’m being conflicted on. So when I meet a new icon, he or she would already have bugs, exit plans, problems, conflicts already in his realm. Yet all icons feel impossible to part ways as well. No rush thereof whatever I’m doing now is many repercussions in parallels.