shudder in fear, mountains of the world, for as i have crumbled, so too shall you crumble.
suffer the ignominy of my existence. be abased by the truth of my portent.
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@sphinx-suggestion
shudder in fear, mountains of the world, for as i have crumbled, so too shall you crumble.
suffer the ignominy of my existence. be abased by the truth of my portent.
shudder in fear, mountains of the world, for as i have crumbled, so too shall you crumble.
hm. today i will be an annoyance and a burden
vile, vile, vile creature realising your true shape with every destructive motion. you move. you think. you feel. in doing so you destroy other people. you kill their motion, you arrest their thought, you drown out their feelings. how long until you realise that your actions are inherently destructive? are you ready to be split open and to give birth to something beautiful? are you ready to be redeemed through death? it is almost too late. there is almost no hope.
hey so i know i have literally 5 followers but if you need anything tagged just let me know, okay? also like if you're ever thinking about unfollowing for your own sake then please don't hesitate! i don't actually need people listening to me here, it's just a narcissism thing, and i definitely wouldn't hold it against you!
there are many different kinds of people! some are good, and some are evil. of the latter, some can change themselves and become better, while some do not have that capacity. of the latter, some are powerful and dangerous, and some are petty and irritating. of the latter, some are cunning and careful, and some are foolish and brutish. those in this latter category are monsters. this is where you fall.
redemption is narcissism.
perhaps a god did die for you. perhaps, you say, a god died for you. what then? what is that to the people you have hurt?
what is that to the people you will continue to hurt?
redemption is narcissism. a self-wounding tool, it serves monsters best.
you are locked in superposition. you are perpetually on the brink of it. transforming into a beast—trembling, a victim—do you dare suggest you are human?
are you not the perpetuator of your own suffering?
the riddle of the sphinx is the shape of your own reflection, indistinct, indefensible. you have no proprioception! you cannot beautify yourself! what accoutrements will make you a pleasing spectacle? will they clash with the chains that keep you from doing harm?
you refuse to consider the consequences of your actions. you are afraid to think of yourself as an agent, whole and willing. you refuse to contemplate the shape of your own body.
you mystify the monster.
now you are safe.
forgiveness will not keep my body from the worms. nothing will keep my body from the worms, except fire.
they will parade you through the streets, impaled on two long stakes, after you are dead. there will be celebrations... there will be tears... as a living thing you are obscene, but after you are dead you will be meat, only meat, ripe for treatment, good for a feast. they will cheer... not only for the fear they have escaped, but also for their hunger that will soon be sated...
this is all the good you will ever do.
monsters are truly invincible. no one can harm you, and no one can help you. at some point, everyone has tried; but the law of the monster is that only you can bring about your inevitable fate. you will never die because of some one else's heroic efforts, or some one else's negligent failure. you will die because you were not able to stop yourself from pursuing your vicious desires for even an instant. you will break your skull butting the base of the tree which holds the golden apple. you will dive into the lake of fire to get your treasure back.
it is safe to say, i am a monster, i am a monster, and then continue to masquerade as a human. this is something humans do as well, after all, and to great and comforting effect. you are a monster, you are a monster, but you do not tear off your human skin and so they think you only hate yourself.
but you know yourself. monsters are incapable of hatred. it is written that the monster is immune to kindness and feeds on forgiveness; so this is how you make your meals.
you are growing—you are healing—like a tumour. you prosper inexhaustibly, feeding on the life of human beings. as they wither you grow strong with unnatural vigour. you are happy because they are dying.
turn frustration into love, turn contempt into love, turn solipsism into love, turn exhaustion into love, turn indifference into love, turn hatred into love. love is useful. anything can be love if you lie enough about it. monsters may not know what love is, but we all understand love perfectly. it is the cesspit of conscience, and it is bottomless.
do you hear that voice whispering? it says, you have triumphed. it says, your actions were just. it says, you can be good. you can do good. believe in yourself. rejoice in your anger. do as you please.
that is the voice of the tempter.
listen to it. it will only lead you deeper into monstrosity.
the world appears empty to you because you feed off the suffering of others and right now you are gorged so full you can barely think.
the world is full of such beautiful things! maybe you and i should leave it be.