shudder in fear, mountains of the world, for as i have crumbled, so too shall you crumble.
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shudder in fear, mountains of the world, for as i have crumbled, so too shall you crumble.
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.
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.
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.