Ἄνουβις

which beings are capable of having minds?

[cynopolis]

joe beck recluse, disappears then shows back up then goes again for a few years lukachyk

[cynopolis]

My chest hurts. Everyone around me is dead but I can't even bring myself to care. All I can focus on is myself. My chest.

[cynopolis]

i have experienced emotional death three hundred times over but i cannot bring myself to provide the release of tangible mortality.

[cynopolis]

organic death is the only viable option.

have you felt the weight of destruction?

can you visualize the release of putting an end to the things to which you can never feel a true connection?

you will never understand.

[cynopolis]

i'll drink up your words even though they're poison.

they are mine even though you are not any longer.

i guess it would be unfair of me to assume that i could possess you when i have already rid myself of your hold on me.

please poison me one last time.

[cynopolis]

the destruction of my earthly sanctuary has left me utterly broken and i do not feel as though i will be fixed until my safety is ensured. this is my place. you have no right to it and i want you to leave forever so that i may reclaim what is rightfully mine.

[cynopolis]

kingdoms topple but you will never fall like the others, you tell yourself.

had your focuses been elsewhere you could have raised monuments like the others. you know you could have. but monuments cannot be nurtured amongst the malnourished culture of a military state, and though you were impressive, there was nothing to call yours. yours was what you conquered, but that could never quite be your own. it was in a contestant flux.

anyone else would have anticipated the day that it was confiscated from you, but you were too shortsighted.

it should not have come as a surprise when they stripped you of title, bearing, and land, but you recall being, for the first time in your life, terrified. years of wobbling on the fine line between glory and inconsequentiality had not sufficiently prepared you for the fall backward into meaninglessness. you were provided with the final push that sent you spiraling into history. your name became an insult. the mere mention of you bore a special brand of toxicity. the militance that had once served you well was irrelevant in a world where another war could be the end of everything. decimation of cities became possible, and the world had no further use for you.

investments have their benefits, however, and the one permanent decision you made was the one who would harbor you. you tell anyone who will listen that you can take care of yourself but you know, deep within your core, that you cannot. without him, you would be nothing. he has kept you here, and you can only pray that he will continue to do so.

if you weren't so proud, perhaps you would thank him.

gratitude is unnecessary in matters of common decency, however, and you would never dream of stooping so low. he is your blood. if he were to betray you, he would be losing the only brother he has ever known. he's too soft for that, you think. you hope.

sometimes, you wonder.

you attempt to mask these worries with a familiar construct: war. everything is a war. in an ever changing world, familiarity is your only source of comfort. any minor conflict becomes a battle for the ages. you challenge holders of status and power and usefulness and worth to games of a nature almost as collectively inconsequential as your own. you worm your way into the good intentions of others, corrupting them and lying to them and forcing a wedge of strife into the soft, ripe flesh of their peace. conversations become strategical minefields, bear traps to spring upon any and all who will listen.

you refuse to be irrelevant.

you can't be irrelevant.

[cynopolis]

who are you? you're burning?

[cynopolis]

memory's bad. been hours; cannot remember what an hour means, know it's been hours. know it's been days. been weeks really. had a conversation weeks ago. was it? was it? was it? was it? were we? was i? were you? am i? when?

[cynopolis]

nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nearly an emotion, nea

[cynopolis]

my head is sinking it is a rock drifting to the bottom of a lake i lost my train of thought and momentarily i lost myself

[cynopolis]

my ears ring and i feel like a cynic;

words, letters, constructs of man,

irrelevant to procedures of fate

[cynopolis]

i exist on a separate plane from you entirely.

i will be welcomed home with the fanfare of gods,

my seat in a divine pantheon secured;

i will be praised for my brilliance and envied.

lesser gods will bow to me in submission.

i will say nothing.

[cynopolis]

i am royalty you are beneath me you are worthless your existence is futile all of your actions will amount to nothing i will shape civilizations i will demolish mountains upon a whim i will have men like you sent to death because of an accidental resemblance to you

[cynopolis]

sick melting swirls in my chest at the thought of emotion.

it pools in my wrists and my head swims and aches.

i wish i could feel something other than bitter.

i wish i could feel pleasure without it mingling with nerves.

i wish i could perceive these lower beings with anything other than disdain.

i want to escape this spectrum and break this cycle.

[cynopolis]

are you talking to me? are you talking to him?

i am interchangeable with estranged older brothers,

animus siblings long gone but unforgotten;

it is a sickening, disgusting constant.

the only difference is that he touched you.

sometimes i wonder if i could have,

had i been given the chance.

would i follow in his footsteps?

would i have shown the decency

that i told you you deserved?

i don't believe i would have.

[cynopolis]

i am extraterrestrial and you are subhuman and i am a wrathful god and you sin relentlessly and i will bury you in a thousand eyeballs and drown you in the still flowing blood of my ill-fitting molecular structure and maybe then you will understand what it is like to carry this burden and i am not a novelty and you cannot treat my identity as a novelty and i refuse to watch as you make a mockery of everything i am and you will never know the insurmountable burden of having a thousand eyes.