It is not so very often I hit snags like these. Nothing, nothing, nothing at all comes to mind when I imagine pain or beauty or tragedy or frailty or dea- darkness... I need something now, anything- be it pen and paper, knife and blood, typewriter and hand, needle and thread- something something something something... I have forgotten how to release the art trapped inside myself. It kills me now, strangling me over and over and over. I am vexed. I twist and turn and writhe within my own skin if only for the sake of becoming something just as twisted and horrible on the outside. But I don't want that. No, what lies inside is my redemption. "To reach the white lights," that horrible woman had declared. Over and over again, Kasane did what she needed to see her light until it ended her. I shall do the same. Over and over and over I shall writhe and struggle and squirm and inch my way into the light and drag myself along for as far as I can. And when the cold, black melancholy grasp of the Abyss closes around my weak heart... i will die. But before death- no, in death, I will reach the end. A beautiful, wonderful end that encompasses the beauty of my frail soul. Conceit conceit conceit conceit conceit- conflict. Am I beautiful? Or am I desperate? I cannot find cannot find cannot find the end without some guide to show me. This is a tunnel? Does it end? Tunnels end, end and open. Caves close and stay closed and forever trap their victims within. Is my body a cave? I am a cave? Cave cave cave cave cave cave cave...Something wet. Tears? Blood? It tastes salty. Good good good. Sharp and metallic, blood. Blood tastes as tears and tears as blood. Their correlation not coincidence not not not... Repeating and tiring, over and over and over. I am tired. The soul and the body and the mind all want to rest. The soul is agitated by itself and the Others. It wants to rest somewhere where it can shine brightly. 'Not yet!' It insists so strongly. 'Not yet may we sleep until we find some Good Place to Sleep sleep sleep sleep...' We Sleep not until Soul is fulfilled. Until her hunger and lust for beauty- endless beauty has been satisfied. So we will kill and kill and maim and maim until we reach the end of the... What? The end of WHAT...?! The tunnel. Yes, yes. I remember now. The flashes confused me for a moment, but I remember. I Always remember. Always always always remember EVERYTHING... So haunting and tiring and exhausting and twice over two said one for the other six... Where did I go? Am I back now? Why are you watching me with such horrored expression? Have you not sinned as well? What right do you have to shake your head? I am a Mantis, a Mantis a Mantis a Mantis... What was that? A sound? Are you crying? Am I crying? Why would I cry?I am not sad... Broken is not sad. I am tired, so tired... Something hurts everything hurts... Was someone crying? I couldn't hear over the noise... Strangely, I feel better now. But irritated. Something happened something happened but I do not care. It's prickling me somewhere that one same something that I can never name, but where is it?
Nec tecum possum vivere, nec sine te
It was somewhere. Somewhere here-
Nec tecum possum vivere, nec sine te
Shut up, I can't think.
Nec tecum possum vivere, nec sine te
I can almost see it, somewhere over there. Maybe if I-
Nec tecum possum vivere, nec sine te
-can reach the-
Nec tecum possum vivere, nec sine te
-light?
Nec tecum possum vivere, nec sine te, nec tecum possum vivere, nec sine te, nec tecum possum vivere, nec sine te.
"Sed non potes vivere."