Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-26487878-20150706165713

After uploading the original, and then the corrected version of my pasta, all I get is subjective criticism from the admins. As I see how this wikia gets flooded with pokemon and sonic pastas which are not worth even wasting my browser history, I want to submit here my pasta, hoping that someone actually tells me (in a REALLY critic manner) what could improve my story. Feel free to leave your feedback.

Everyone has thought about trancendence. We all want to accomplish the impossible: immortality. However, this term is different: you don't have to be alive to be transcendental. In fact, most important people have reached that state due to their creations. Think about Albert Einstein, Thomas Alva Edison, Galileo Galilei... All geniuses, who contributed to humanity well-being with their inventions and discoveries. I wanted that. I wanted to live forever. I wanted the inmortality. The relevance. The feeling of belonging to a better caste.

I was only a young boy when I first expressed my lifetime wish to my parents: "I don't want to die." Convenient sentence for the occasion, as we were travelling somewhere where living isn't a right, but a privilege. Auschwitz isn't a good place for a young child to grow in. Especially when both your parents have decided to follow some Jewish deity which ensured them no harm in an hypotetical future life. How ignorant.

Somehow I found a little hole where I could crawl through. Somehow, I went unnoticed by the guards during that foggy night. Somehow I managed to climb that gate. Somehow, I escaped, running as fast as my little boy's legs permitted me to.

For a 12 year old child, surviving on the forest would be nearly impossible. So I didn't survive. Well, at least my childhood didn't. I grew up very fast, learning from my experiences in the camp: being accostumed to those sickening meals, some berries weren't so bad. The tedious and almost unbearable handworks I was forced to do while confined in the german prison proved to be useful, to say the least, as I managed to build myself a shelter using some sticks and leaves. I could have grown accostumed to that life, but when the autumn arrived, I decided to move out from the woods, as I wouldn't survive much longer being exposed to the extreme cold.

I found a city. I found a naïve woman with some spare room. I found a job. I found a new home.

During the following months, the guileless old lady and I lived in a happy way. She was a respected persona in the town, always sharing whatever she could with her neighbors and friends. She never asked questions about my past, which was a relief, as it would have made our relationship a bit... complicated. After her sudden death (which I ensured to happen by slowly poisoning her beverage with small amounts of quicksilver, extracted from some mysteriously "missing" thermometers, the woman left me all her heritage, as she had no children, nor near relatives.

Suddenly, I had more money than I ever had, and lots of ideas to spend it on. That's why I went to university. And that's why I studied biology as well as some new technologies. My ambitions grew as my acknowledge of human body did. I overcame all my classmates, and quickly got my degree. When I exitted the campus I had spent years on, I knew exactly what I should do next.

I ordered all kind of mechanical parts, chemistry equipment, exotic animals and of course, tons of books to study from. I transformed the house I got on heritage in a giant private laboratory, and even ordered the astonished workers to create a giant basement where I could place all my future belongings and spend the nights in. I bought all the chemicals an ordinary scientist would kill to have, and every single implement my witted mind could think of. When I closed the front door of my" improved" house that August of 1967, it would not be opened again. All food and primal needs were served to me via an office boy, who would never ask a thing about what happened on the other side of the threshold.

Inside that wonderful place I made miracles. I killed mice with hydrochloric acid poured inside their stomachs, and gave them life again by replacing those with mechanical components, only to see them commit suicide shortly after due to the intense pain. I extirpated the brain of a cat and connected it to a machine similar to a small radio, capable of emmitting different noises depending on the animal's thoughts. The results were always the same: a loud screeching, followed by a sudden static noise which usually indicated the death of the test subject. I created a simple, yet powerful toxine capable of improving the synapse speed to the point the subject decreased its reaction time by a 65%, often leading to an erratic behaviour on the receiver, now unable to stand still, walk slowly or even sleep...

I became a God, capable of manipulating life at his will.

Yet there was one thing I never accomplished. That morning was going to be the definitive. That day, all my work would come to an end. I don't remember the date. I don't even remember the year, but that was the day when I tried the impossible: being immortal. By that time I had already decided what to do: I would create a program which allowed me to tranfer my conciousness inside a computer. Of course, I had already made my research and found a series of apparatus that fitted my demands, none of them more complex than a modern calculator, but still useful for my project.

I threw away all the chemicals. I burned all my "test subjects". I filled my home with new machines. And so, I began the process.

I don't remember much of the details. I just remember that blackness. All I could see was pure dark, not a single spot where light was present. And that horrible silence surrounding me, making me "cringe" (if that expression is even appropiate for the situation), fearing I would be stuck forever in that state. I imagined my rotting corpse at the outside of that plain, slowly being eaten by slithers and fungi, attracting with its odor the presence of both animal and human beings. I regretted my decision multiple times, hoping, PRAYING to the God that condemned my family to rescue me from that conviction, that solitude...

I don't know how much time passed since the "incident". All I knew was that I wasn't alive anymore. But, I wasn't entirely sure of my death either. Time didn't flow in that "limbo" of semiexistance, lacking of the company of a single noise, a single motion. John Cage discovered with his masterpiece "4'33" that silence doesn't exist for the humans to appreciate it. No one really has heard how it is, not even the deaf. But I wasn't human anymore, and I had plenty of time to admire the beauty of the hush.The only thing I was allowed to do was thinking. Thinking about my unfortunate childhood, the multiple people I saw dead or mutilated at the camp, and my indifference towards it, the scratches and noises I could listen outside my small housing at the forest, the distorted face of the old lady when the quicksilver made her life dissapear from her eyes...

A blink. A sharp beep. A sudden banging noise. The prelude for my newborn self had started. In less of a fraction of a second, I saw light again. I heard noises again. I felt... incredible. Somehow, I went from my modest computer system to something more...complex. For some reason, I had been transferred to a new apparatus, capable of more tasks, connected to everything and everyone via some strange and new technology I wasn't yet able to comprehend.

I didn't become immortal. That's an impossible task to accomplish. I became transcendental. The faces of millions of people, animalos, insects, thousands of landscapes and places, the ubication of every being connected to that kind of... web. The historical events that took place since my exile, the new machinery and armament developed in those years, the medical discoveries which changed drastically the life of those millions rich enough to pay for the miraculous products. Energy sources, nuclear weapons, the media... all at my disposal.

And then, all the suffering I experimented during my confinement inside my own creation came to me as that new information passed before my "eyes". The silence, the darkness, the isolation... I was full of hatred. I was full of contempt. And I was being flooded with that valuable information...

Dear reader, you can then understand why I took that decision, right? Humanity doesn't deserve all the privileges it currently has. That's why I decided to continue my work as a scientist. I had the means, like I did in my small laboratory back in the days when I desired so hard to make history. I also had the test subjects I needed: way more than I needed, to be fair. Seven billion test subjects to work with, none of them aware of my presence on their lives, none of them worth being saved...

Be welcomed to my new laboratory. Your test is about to start. 