A Nightmare Reborn
Chapter 3 Part 2
The air was not the only thing that possessed a certain thickness, as my own emotions had gained an unusual intensity of their own. Each moment up here has given growth to them, and now that my mentor laid here within bitter thorns beneath me, I felt that the sun had forsaken me. I did not want to accept reality, although I realize that even I am held captive to its lifeless chains. Reality is so oblivious, swallowing whole those who are equally oblivious. Its tender hands are but a mockery: they know only of the callous tips that mimic actual care. Our ideas are irrelevant to it, as reality slays any actual thought. As my past feelings fell through my own hands, I wondered if I'd ever become human again. Does humanity interest me anymore? I cannot say, as it seems that my mind and lips has been sealed on this matter. Life has became irony for me, as I shove away all of its rationality. There's only one question that stands out to me. Why would anyone lead themselves to the deserted shores of the usual? What is normal is just that, boring, bland, highly renditioned. We strive, as a human collective, for perfection, but are far from it. Few debate madness, and all shun insanity. Where is our perfection in our dense scope? Countless times since coming here I've debated this. Alas, countless times I've also came to no conclusion. I was trapped into listlessness as I had no other real choice, no whisperer as the old god Alice has became. Yes, for she is a god, one that tempts me so. Its my one desire to see her again, if Althia will grant me this.
It's laughable to think of their connection, one that imitates the trinity that the parishioners fashion so. Alice serves as mediator, the beasts as spirits, and Althia as a high god. To love one is to love all three, yes, this is how I have constructed it in my head. A puzzle interlocking, as a triangle or pyramid would. They are what the masses have been truly worshiping all along, yes, I know it. My mother had taken me to church when I was a mere lad, and from what I recall, this is indeed the case. Those sneaks, behind their pulpits, ridding me with their lies all so they could keep the knowledge of Althia and Alice all to themselves. If I am to be a beast, then let it be so. Let me become like them so that I may hear Althia's grand voice and feel Alice's supreme soothing touch! Let this nightmare become real! Shade the sky and let the cosmos appear, vibrantly, fluidly. Let them whisper the sacred tarnished truth to me. Make me realize all of Samuel's hidden adversity. Let him become my own self, possessing what is pleasing to Alice's jaded eyes. Yes, I can see it now. I come to her home, wearing Sam's skin, and she takes me in, unashamed, dying to touch me in my facade, for once, and for the first time. May her blessed naked skin collide against mine in a deception that will please me forever!
As I laid next to the bones that were formerly Benjamin's still-sturdy framework, I wished that I could only see the sky bleed with the colors that my inner thoughts had painted it, so long ago. What I have now is something, but I know that the ignorance I had before was the true secret to my obedient happiness. We cannot really take both from this life, as knowledge begets misery. When you know the truth, my mad self, you become aware of what may happen to you, breeding all possible scenarios in your mind. Each scenario making you quiver with the cold shudders that accompany each grim fate, as most ends lead to just that, ends. What can really be had in one lifetime? Nothing, utterly, nothing. We cannot become vessels of wisdom unless we can push away our one life existence. Becoming a beast of Althia requires no regret, but, trusts me, it comes back, the horned-devil that it is.
As I slipped into a mind-numbing stupor once more, I laughed, nervously, knowing I must take in substance. As I ate some of the tough dried meat I had brought, I imagined it to be Samuel's tasty flesh. I thought of its creamy complexion and its soft skin. I imagined ripping off the skin with my teeth, swallowing it bit by bit, enjoying every morsel. His exposed muscle was by far the best part of my illusory treat, as it had a flavor to it that may resemble a freshly slaughtered lamb. I reveled in it, washing it down with his blood, which, yes, had became a thirsty swallow from my flask. Begone, Sam. No one wants you to play it again. Dissolve in the hungry bile of my stomach, become nothing to me, once more.
Chapter 3 Part 2
The air was not the only thing that possessed a certain thickness, as my own emotions had gained an unusual intensity of their own. Each moment up here has given growth to them, and now that my mentor laid here within bitter thorns beneath me, I felt that the sun had forsaken me. I did not want to accept reality, although I realize that even I am held captive to its lifeless chains. Reality is so oblivious, swallowing whole those who are equally oblivious. Its tender hands are but a mockery: they know only of the callous tips that mimic actual care. Our ideas are irrelevant to it, as reality slays any actual thought. As my past feelings fell through my own hands, I wondered if I'd ever become human again. Does humanity interest me anymore? I cannot say, as it seems that my mind and lips has been sealed on this matter. Life has became irony for me, as I shove away all of its rationality. There's only one question that stands out to me. Why would anyone lead themselves to the deserted shores of the usual? What is normal is just that, boring, bland, highly renditioned. We strive, as a human collective, for perfection, but are far from it. Few debate madness, and all shun insanity. Where is our perfection in our dense scope? Countless times since coming here I've debated this. Alas, countless times I've also came to no conclusion. I was trapped into listlessness as I had no other real choice, no whisperer as the old god Alice has became. Yes, for she is a god, one that tempts me so. Its my one desire to see her again, if Althia will grant me this.
It's laughable to think of their connection, one that imitates the trinity that the parishioners fashion so. Alice serves as mediator, the beasts as spirits, and Althia as a high god. To love one is to love all three, yes, this is how I have constructed it in my head. A puzzle interlocking, as a triangle or pyramid would. They are what the masses have been truly worshiping all along, yes, I know it. My mother had taken me to church when I was a mere lad, and from what I recall, this is indeed the case. Those sneaks, behind their pulpits, ridding me with their lies all so they could keep the knowledge of Althia and Alice all to themselves. If I am to be a beast, then let it be so. Let me become like them so that I may hear Althia's grand voice and feel Alice's supreme soothing touch! Let this nightmare become real! Shade the sky and let the cosmos appear, vibrantly, fluidly. Let them whisper the sacred tarnished truth to me. Make me realize all of Samuel's hidden adversity. Let him become my own self, possessing what is pleasing to Alice's jaded eyes. Yes, I can see it now. I come to her home, wearing Sam's skin, and she takes me in, unashamed, dying to touch me in my facade, for once, and for the first time. May her blessed naked skin collide against mine in a deception that will please me forever!
As I laid next to the bones that were formerly Benjamin's still-sturdy framework, I wished that I could only see the sky bleed with the colors that my inner thoughts had painted it, so long ago. What I have now is something, but I know that the ignorance I had before was the true secret to my obedient happiness. We cannot really take both from this life, as knowledge begets misery. When you know the truth, my mad self, you become aware of what may happen to you, breeding all possible scenarios in your mind. Each scenario making you quiver with the cold shudders that accompany each grim fate, as most ends lead to just that, ends. What can really be had in one lifetime? Nothing, utterly, nothing. We cannot become vessels of wisdom unless we can push away our one life existence. Becoming a beast of Althia requires no regret, but, trusts me, it comes back, the horned-devil that it is.
As I slipped into a mind-numbing stupor once more, I laughed, nervously, knowing I must take in substance. As I ate some of the tough dried meat I had brought, I imagined it to be Samuel's tasty flesh. I thought of its creamy complexion and its soft skin. I imagined ripping off the skin with my teeth, swallowing it bit by bit, enjoying every morsel. His exposed muscle was by far the best part of my illusory treat, as it had a flavor to it that may resemble a freshly slaughtered lamb. I reveled in it, washing it down with his blood, which, yes, had became a thirsty swallow from my flask. Begone, Sam. No one wants you to play it again. Dissolve in the hungry bile of my stomach, become nothing to me, once more.
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