Kristian Proud
Bio
Kristian Proud (he/she/they) is a multidisciplinary artist of life, born in the mid-90s in Rochester, NY. Their first self-published book, entitled 'Majesty & Travesty' was released in 2020. Next up for Mr. Proud is a heroic sci-fi series.
Stories (4)
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Stepping Into Black Sands
There are times in this world when people seem to come together due to destinies being intertwined, in order to focus on a bigger picture and bring it into reality. These souls meet by what seems at first glance to be happenstance but then is revealed in its entirety to be fate.
By Kristian Proud5 years ago in Families
December 21st, 2020
Dawn. Solstice. It was the prophesied day of the new beginning and the old ending. The humans had just tapped into their power, and many began levitating, teleporting, phasing through matter, and shifting densities. It was… quite chaotic, as their physical bodies had not yet caught up to their energetic bodies. Alas, I realize that when referencing the true definition of chaos, I, as a Nag Hami being, know that chaos is the very synchronization which would, if followed, adhered to, and respected, become the very utopia that the beings in this plane of existence lust after so desperately. Chaos is king, and it is the chaotic organization (not the organized chaos), which brings about destruction, decay, and devastation. Now, the energies had aligned and set one another up to reaffirm with themselves; one had slowed so the other could quicken. They would finally be at one, shortly, and this very atonement was the same as the supreme, ultimate wealth which we had so painstakingly revealed to them.
By Kristian Proud5 years ago in Futurism
'Ghostflock'
As I skip down the valley of the shadow of the light, mountains so bright, superfluous, and effortlessly still, kill any lingering leeches in the air. Is a bloodsucker not most active at night, when the sky is saturated with liquid darkness, Mother of Light? She automatically replies in the language of universal electricity, that she’s grateful if I’m grateful. She’s love if I’m love… she’s light if I’m light, and instead of being blinded by it, I was seen and initiated by it. This valley and I go way back, and our history is anything but linear. My feet step in the same cyclical caterpillar-like motion, allowing every segment of themselves to make contact until they become butterflies. They recognize the grounds here, and also it’s the other way around because both flavors favor each other. This earth is the audience that never stops clapping, and my feet are the sole instruments played here. Complementing the raucous silence, with every step I take I can hear them amplified to a point of orchestral cacophony. It is bone-chilling, and the chill itself continues cloud-hopping until it’s inside each one of my organs.
By Kristian Proud5 years ago in Horror
