They do not care for you, do not know you. You are nothing but an amusement in a world of the mundane familiar. Savor that.
It is beyond your comprehension, and the study of it is your rapture. There is nothing here that you could ever understand. You do not look away.
When did you first feel them? When did the all encompassing pressure begin to grow? Does it matter? You cannot breathe. Its too much. You want more.
You are lost and losing more the longer you wander here, in this garden of wrong turns and impossible riddles. Inside It calls to you and promises safe passage in payment for faith. What a beautiful lie
Of course you love them. You always have. They found you and made you theirs, isn’t it such a gift?
You will burn yourself out in a blaze of glory in hopes that a supernova will notice, but the thrill of the burn is worth it in its own right.
You know nothing of it because you have never confronted it. It lurks behind you always, never seen but ever noticed. Whisper your prayers to the shadows, maybe one day one of them will listen.
It is just out of reach, constantly flitting in and out of existence, close enough to taunt, far enough to evade your grasping claws. You’ll catch it one day. Its already caught you.
Fight. Tear. Rend. Bleed. Blood is the oldest call to the gods and they will listen. If you spill enough that is.
It was always going to lead you here, to the point where nothing has ever mattered but who you are and the fact that you will never change again. It does not care for you, so there is no judgement here.
You cannot cooexist with them for they are more than can ever be explained but you can become more-than-you if you try, a fragile counterpoint to their divine song.
This was chosen for you by you by chance but the reward is an endless being, live without the boundaries of ‘too much’.
You are but a collection of parts, but every piece of your self calls out in rapture of their use in service to the perfect whole you can become.
No one loves your god as you do, you alone know the truth to it existence, you alone know how to fill the vacuum of nothing that cradles you. You will never fill it.
This cannot continue. There is nothing there to love.
