I am trapped by it.
I thought to take hold the reins of destiny...I thought to shape the future.
Instead, the future has shaped me.
I have become more than I ever thought possible...I have become more than I ever wanted to be. I am warrior and mystic, ogre and saint, the fox and the innocent, chivalrous, ruthless, less than a god, and more than a man. This is not what I intended.
When first I awoke, I had no thought other than vengeance. My truest goal was to destroy the Baron, the Lansraad, the Emperor...everyone whose greed took my father from me. But my sight, awakened by the damnable spice, was not enough. Still were things hidden. There was the unknown. And all the while my sense of terrible purpose pervaded me.
I knew I could do more...I knew that my prescience could know no bounds had I but the courage to brave the crucible. I did. The Water of Life, so saturated with mélange that it was a deadly poison. It changed me...and I changed it. The sleeper had awakened. I knew, then, that beyond any denial, I was the Kwisatz Haderach. But I had not yet grasped what that meant.
At the time, I was too involved. I had a war to win. The immediate threats of the Imperial armies could not be ignored. But they were broken. My ability to destroy the spice gave me mastery over it. With that mastery came the keys to the Empire. I thought I was secure with my beloved...with the son I knew would come. I had beaten everyone, forced them all to bend knee and grovel for my favor. But I could not escape from my own prescience... Because to know the future is to be trapped by it.
My prescient visions began to sometimes come of their own accord. I saw what was before me. I saw the jihad. I was shown my Fremen loosed upon an unsuspecting universe, slaughtering and who refused the peace of Muad'Dib. I knew that by now, nothing could stop this. Not even my death. If I died, even by my own hand, the priests of Muad'Dib would say that he had gone on to lead the Fremen in the spirit world. Jihad would happen, with or without me. Muad'Dib was no longer a man. He was the Messiah, and death would only make him a martyr. Paul Atreides was dead. Usul was dead, Long live Muad'Dib.
I've had enough of religion. I've insinuated my rites into the most elementary human acts. The people eat in the name of Muad'Dib. They make love in my name, are born in my name--cross the street in my name. A roof beam cannot be raised in the lowliest hovel without invoking the blessing of Muad'Dib!
I never wanted to be a god. I wanted only to disappear like a jewel of trace dew caught by the morning. I wanted to escape the angels and the damned – alone . . . as though by an oversight. I wanted only to look back and say: "There! There's an existence which couldn't hold me. See! I vanish! No restraint or net of human devising can trap me ever again. I renounce my religion! This glorious instant is mine! I'm free!" On Arrakis, I was baptized in sand. It cost me faith. Who trades in faiths anymore? Who'll buy? Who'll sell?
I think I've tried to invent life, not realizing it had already been invented.
I am tired. Sometimes when I am away from Chani and anyone I might call friend, I think of ways to die, to save myself from the sacrifices I will have to make. There is only one way...there is only one path. The Golden Path. I saw it, once, in a vision. The Golden Path...the path I must take for the survival of humankind. And it is the only way...I know. I have seen it.
But I am not strong enough to become one with the desert. I know this. I have not the strength to endure thousands of years of transformation. I cannot do this. But I can prepare the way for my son.
I hate myself, that I am not strong enough, that this mantle will be thrust open him. God-Emperor, they will call him...a Great Worm, a Tyrant. He will live for thousands of years...he will demystify Muad'Dib. And still, though I dare not take this path for knowledge that I would falter, the sacrifices even to make ready the way will be great.
I will lose everything I love, everything I cherish. My eyes will be stolen by treachery, yet still will I see. My visions will guide me, and my legend will grow even farther. My Chani will be stolen from me. How I wish at this moment, with the knowledge that I will lose my beloved, that I could turn aside from the role that fate has chosen for me... But there are problems in this universe which have no solutions. There are questions that no one can answer...not even the Mahdi.
I will go into the desert...no longer a god, less than a man. That is a mistake that the desert dwellers here on Dune have made. There exists no separation between gods and men; one blends softly casual into the other. In the end, I will not be Muad'Dib the god...I will be a Fremen, a simple, blind Fremen, following the laws of his people...going to die in peace. I will go where Dune men walk without footprints. But I will have died long before that. All that will be left will be for Shai-Hulud to take my body.
My son.
He will want what I want...a universe where the course of human destiny is not mapped out by one man...but it will be a universe of surprises, of open doors, of endless paths...where humanity can survive. That is the Golden Path...the one we must take. But at terrible cost. I think perhaps one of my bloodline in ancient times was guilty of horrible acts, that whatever God exists cursed us, put upon us this onus. Because my family will be forever shattered...for the good of mankind.
I have become more than I ever thought possible...I have become more than I ever wanted to be. I am warrior and mystic, ogre and saint, the fox and the innocent, chivalrous, ruthless, less than a god, and more than a man. This is not what I intended.
When first I awoke, I had no thought other than vengeance. My truest goal was to destroy the Baron, the Lansraad, the Emperor...everyone whose greed took my father from me. But my sight, awakened by the damnable spice, was not enough. Still were things hidden. There was the unknown. And all the while my sense of terrible purpose pervaded me.
I knew I could do more...I knew that my prescience could know no bounds had I but the courage to brave the crucible. I did. The Water of Life, so saturated with mélange that it was a deadly poison. It changed me...and I changed it. The sleeper had awakened. I knew, then, that beyond any denial, I was the Kwisatz Haderach. But I had not yet grasped what that meant.
At the time, I was too involved. I had a war to win. The immediate threats of the Imperial armies could not be ignored. But they were broken. My ability to destroy the spice gave me mastery over it. With that mastery came the keys to the Empire. I thought I was secure with my beloved...with the son I knew would come. I had beaten everyone, forced them all to bend knee and grovel for my favor. But I could not escape from my own prescience... Because to know the future is to be trapped by it.
My prescient visions began to sometimes come of their own accord. I saw what was before me. I saw the jihad. I was shown my Fremen loosed upon an unsuspecting universe, slaughtering and who refused the peace of Muad'Dib. I knew that by now, nothing could stop this. Not even my death. If I died, even by my own hand, the priests of Muad'Dib would say that he had gone on to lead the Fremen in the spirit world. Jihad would happen, with or without me. Muad'Dib was no longer a man. He was the Messiah, and death would only make him a martyr. Paul Atreides was dead. Usul was dead, Long live Muad'Dib.
I've had enough of religion. I've insinuated my rites into the most elementary human acts. The people eat in the name of Muad'Dib. They make love in my name, are born in my name--cross the street in my name. A roof beam cannot be raised in the lowliest hovel without invoking the blessing of Muad'Dib!
I never wanted to be a god. I wanted only to disappear like a jewel of trace dew caught by the morning. I wanted to escape the angels and the damned – alone . . . as though by an oversight. I wanted only to look back and say: "There! There's an existence which couldn't hold me. See! I vanish! No restraint or net of human devising can trap me ever again. I renounce my religion! This glorious instant is mine! I'm free!" On Arrakis, I was baptized in sand. It cost me faith. Who trades in faiths anymore? Who'll buy? Who'll sell?
I think I've tried to invent life, not realizing it had already been invented.
I am tired. Sometimes when I am away from Chani and anyone I might call friend, I think of ways to die, to save myself from the sacrifices I will have to make. There is only one way...there is only one path. The Golden Path. I saw it, once, in a vision. The Golden Path...the path I must take for the survival of humankind. And it is the only way...I know. I have seen it.
But I am not strong enough to become one with the desert. I know this. I have not the strength to endure thousands of years of transformation. I cannot do this. But I can prepare the way for my son.
I hate myself, that I am not strong enough, that this mantle will be thrust open him. God-Emperor, they will call him...a Great Worm, a Tyrant. He will live for thousands of years...he will demystify Muad'Dib. And still, though I dare not take this path for knowledge that I would falter, the sacrifices even to make ready the way will be great.
I will lose everything I love, everything I cherish. My eyes will be stolen by treachery, yet still will I see. My visions will guide me, and my legend will grow even farther. My Chani will be stolen from me. How I wish at this moment, with the knowledge that I will lose my beloved, that I could turn aside from the role that fate has chosen for me... But there are problems in this universe which have no solutions. There are questions that no one can answer...not even the Mahdi.
I will go into the desert...no longer a god, less than a man. That is a mistake that the desert dwellers here on Dune have made. There exists no separation between gods and men; one blends softly casual into the other. In the end, I will not be Muad'Dib the god...I will be a Fremen, a simple, blind Fremen, following the laws of his people...going to die in peace. I will go where Dune men walk without footprints. But I will have died long before that. All that will be left will be for Shai-Hulud to take my body.
My son.
He will want what I want...a universe where the course of human destiny is not mapped out by one man...but it will be a universe of surprises, of open doors, of endless paths...where humanity can survive. That is the Golden Path...the one we must take. But at terrible cost. I think perhaps one of my bloodline in ancient times was guilty of horrible acts, that whatever God exists cursed us, put upon us this onus. Because my family will be forever shattered...for the good of mankind.