A Nightmare Reborn
Chapter 2 Part 5
This sickening madness has became as laughable as it is enjoyable. I brought forth an apple that I had retrieved from Alice's gift bag from earlier in the tunnel, and bit into it, remarking over its memorable flavor. She must have been the one to leave them there. After all, no beast would ever need such a thing as apples. This one still tastes crisp as if freshly picked. Alice must have came here from the very same train that I had boarded. She must have intended for me to be her lover from the start. Why was I so foolish into believing that Sam was nothing more than her? She provided no picture or sketch of him, after all. Her stray gray hairs and aged complexion did not distract from her apparent beauty, at all. She is worth having, even if I must endure the temper of Hades himself. She will finally emerge from hiding when I enter the fabled old god Althia's lair, the place where I will find her atop the succulent beast that is also herself. I will make my dead mother sing with joy once more. My empty bachelor years are all but over. When I secure her for myself, I will dwell atop this mountain with her, where we will subject both man and beast to our own vigorous trials. Nothing before now matters. We will live together in harmony, in lust, angels ripping off their own wings. What love enters my soul will be the cost of my foul demented mind. Let irony beseech me. The death of my innocence did not denoate the death of my ignorance. Being blind suits only those who are blind. Being awake is the penalty for those who do not dream. Don't wake me from here, please don't let me escape from my own personal nightmare. Rebirth is what I want, a black buttefly that emerges in the haunts of the night. As I am reborn, she also will be reborn. She lives within the area of my mind where I believe I will find the flavor of my punishment. Anyone who gains a liberation in life must be punished. Alice will be my punisher, my dark mandoline of kerosene and pain. Whether she's leathered or bare, I invite the interaction.
Enough, enough. As I ate of the final bits leading to the core of the apple, I casted it aside, deciding my next course of action. The hill spreads to further up, it spiraling and hiding its true face. It seems to rear its head to all, as each hill has its own distinct personality in this nightmarish realm. This hill, yes, this hill. It mimics me, dancing away with my shrouded thoughts and feelings. I don't know, for once, how to react. In the past I always knew what to do. Now, the spirit of inebriation has met me and she's pulled me under. The light has been my guilty pleasure for too long. The only sanctuary I have found now is wallowing in darkness, becoming one with it. I must be wary, however, as that spider beast had nearly ended my pilgrimage. It was a rather hurtful endeavor when I had seen myself before as inevitable. I can't believe that life is just life and that's it. The penalty incurred is only for the sane. Death will not take me if I stay alive, yes, yes. We aren't useful to our mistress if we choose to die. Only the naive truly die. We aren't the ambassadors who need to think or decide for ourselves should we heed the old god, Althia. She mediates the true consciousness that is pain. Let her know your toils. Let her know your thoughts. Let her know your love. Let her hate what you hate, and leave behind what you hath shed. We mustn't believe what the liar has told to us in the past, be him the negligent master or the prude skeptic. I am not an engine of self-destruction any more, now, are we, my patient goddess. You will alieviate my torment Alice, you'll see.
As I moved further into the gorged landside, I had my eyes speckled with the dirt that comes from inertia. As I struggled to keep my gravitatious feeble weight to the unsteady ground, I cursed my inferior design. Why must the bounds of a mortal coil and its bloodied parceled deliverance keep me away from my true realized greatness? Why, oh why? I hate me and my bodied flaws! How can anyone implore this devil-prone vehicular existence that we have for way too long accepted? If you wish me to die, Alice, doeth me in so! I will be yours in life or death, but not both! Curse you, maker! You've made me feel pain, torment, agony! You have always hated your disobedient children who you claim do your own will! I am not doing your will, but instead that of beasts! Leave me be, leave me now! I hate you for making me! Why could not the perfect Alice have made me? Surly her hands could have molded me in a more complete fashion!
Chapter 2 Part 5
This sickening madness has became as laughable as it is enjoyable. I brought forth an apple that I had retrieved from Alice's gift bag from earlier in the tunnel, and bit into it, remarking over its memorable flavor. She must have been the one to leave them there. After all, no beast would ever need such a thing as apples. This one still tastes crisp as if freshly picked. Alice must have came here from the very same train that I had boarded. She must have intended for me to be her lover from the start. Why was I so foolish into believing that Sam was nothing more than her? She provided no picture or sketch of him, after all. Her stray gray hairs and aged complexion did not distract from her apparent beauty, at all. She is worth having, even if I must endure the temper of Hades himself. She will finally emerge from hiding when I enter the fabled old god Althia's lair, the place where I will find her atop the succulent beast that is also herself. I will make my dead mother sing with joy once more. My empty bachelor years are all but over. When I secure her for myself, I will dwell atop this mountain with her, where we will subject both man and beast to our own vigorous trials. Nothing before now matters. We will live together in harmony, in lust, angels ripping off their own wings. What love enters my soul will be the cost of my foul demented mind. Let irony beseech me. The death of my innocence did not denoate the death of my ignorance. Being blind suits only those who are blind. Being awake is the penalty for those who do not dream. Don't wake me from here, please don't let me escape from my own personal nightmare. Rebirth is what I want, a black buttefly that emerges in the haunts of the night. As I am reborn, she also will be reborn. She lives within the area of my mind where I believe I will find the flavor of my punishment. Anyone who gains a liberation in life must be punished. Alice will be my punisher, my dark mandoline of kerosene and pain. Whether she's leathered or bare, I invite the interaction.
Enough, enough. As I ate of the final bits leading to the core of the apple, I casted it aside, deciding my next course of action. The hill spreads to further up, it spiraling and hiding its true face. It seems to rear its head to all, as each hill has its own distinct personality in this nightmarish realm. This hill, yes, this hill. It mimics me, dancing away with my shrouded thoughts and feelings. I don't know, for once, how to react. In the past I always knew what to do. Now, the spirit of inebriation has met me and she's pulled me under. The light has been my guilty pleasure for too long. The only sanctuary I have found now is wallowing in darkness, becoming one with it. I must be wary, however, as that spider beast had nearly ended my pilgrimage. It was a rather hurtful endeavor when I had seen myself before as inevitable. I can't believe that life is just life and that's it. The penalty incurred is only for the sane. Death will not take me if I stay alive, yes, yes. We aren't useful to our mistress if we choose to die. Only the naive truly die. We aren't the ambassadors who need to think or decide for ourselves should we heed the old god, Althia. She mediates the true consciousness that is pain. Let her know your toils. Let her know your thoughts. Let her know your love. Let her hate what you hate, and leave behind what you hath shed. We mustn't believe what the liar has told to us in the past, be him the negligent master or the prude skeptic. I am not an engine of self-destruction any more, now, are we, my patient goddess. You will alieviate my torment Alice, you'll see.
As I moved further into the gorged landside, I had my eyes speckled with the dirt that comes from inertia. As I struggled to keep my gravitatious feeble weight to the unsteady ground, I cursed my inferior design. Why must the bounds of a mortal coil and its bloodied parceled deliverance keep me away from my true realized greatness? Why, oh why? I hate me and my bodied flaws! How can anyone implore this devil-prone vehicular existence that we have for way too long accepted? If you wish me to die, Alice, doeth me in so! I will be yours in life or death, but not both! Curse you, maker! You've made me feel pain, torment, agony! You have always hated your disobedient children who you claim do your own will! I am not doing your will, but instead that of beasts! Leave me be, leave me now! I hate you for making me! Why could not the perfect Alice have made me? Surly her hands could have molded me in a more complete fashion!
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