Chapter Text
TIME AND SPACE HAVE BEEN RUMORED TO HAVE SOULS.
THESE SOULS HAVE BEEN CLAIMED TO BE IMMORTAL.
IMMORTALITY IS THE ONLY IMPOSSIBILITY IN EXISTENCE. IT’S A MISDIAGNOSIS OF THE TRUE NATURE OF ETERNAL LIFE.
IN MY EXPERIENCE, IT IS MORE ACCURATE TO SAY THAT GODS DIE WHEN THE WORLD THEY EXIST WITHIN DIES. TIME AND SPACE END, SO ANYTHING CONTAINED WITHIN DIES WITH THEM. EVEN THOSE THAT BELIEVE THEY ARE SITTING ON THE THRONE OF EITHER CARDINAL VESTIGATE OF THE MIND’S EXISTENCE IN THE MATERIAL PLANE, TEMPORAL OR SPATIAL, ARE SORELY MISTAKEN. THEY ARE NOT GODS, BUT DEMIURGES WITH NO MASTER ABOVE THEM. DEMIURGES RESUSCITATING THEMSELVES WHENEVER THE SINGULARITIES OF ALL MATTER EXIT HIBERNATION, AND THUS ALLOW THE MACROCOSM TO PERMEATE THE NOTHING ONCE AGAIN.
FINISHING A TALE, CLOSING IT’S LEATHER BOUND SCRIPT, THEN VENTURING OUT OF BOREDOM TO REOPEN IT, BEGINNING AGAIN THE PROCESS OF DIGESTING THE WRIT OF A WHOLE WORLD ONLY YOUR IMAGINATION CAN LET YOU ENCOMPASS THE FULL MAGNITUDE OF. THAT IS WHAT “REALITY’S” EXISTENCE IS, AND GODS ARE ONLY THE AUTHORS OF SUCH LITERATURE ENSNARED BY THEIR OWN FANTASIES. TO CLAIM STEWARDSHIP OVER REALITY ITSELF IS A FOOLISH NOTION.
MANKIND TO THE RAGING TUMULT OF THE ELEMENTS, HURRICANES RIPPING APART THE GESTALT OF THE EARTH’S SPIRIT, IS NO DIFFERENT TO THE GODHEADS WHO EYE THE WHIMS OF THAT WHICH HAS BEEN BESTOWED THE MONIKER “PARADOX SPACE.”
IT BRINGS ABOUT MUCH SELF REFLECTION.
HUMBLED ARE THE EMBODIMENTS OF THE TWELVE ASPECTS WHO GAZE UPON THEIR MACHIEVELLIAN CONSTRUCTS, SO HAUGHTY IN THEIR NOTION OF FATE’S ABSOLUTION CONFLATED WITH THEIR OWN BEQUEST, AS THE SQUALL OF SCALES TILTING PUSHES THEIR MASTERPIECE AGAINST THE BULL OF KARMA’S HORNS, AND GORES IT AS SIMPLY AS A BULL WOULD AN OVERZEALOUS TOREADOR. IT MAY TAKE LIFETIMES, BUT ANY WORK OF BENEVOLENT OR MALEVOLENT NATURE CRUMBLES IN THE INFINITE DELUGE OF OZYMANDIAS’ EXEMPLAR PUPILS. MANY DEIGN THEMSELVES THE PRISTINE UNTOUCHABLES OF THE COGWORK, EVEN THE ONES TOUCHED UP AND REFITTED TO THE SLOT WHERE THEIR TEETH CONTINUE TO GRIND AWAY THOSE GEARS THEY SEE AS LESSERS.
AS YOU CAN NO DOUBT GUESS, RUST IS THE COMMONALITY THAT MARRS AND SHATTERS ALL METAL IN THE GRAND CLOCKTOWER OF ACTUALITY.
THIS LESSON IS PRESENTED WITH PURPOSE BEYOND THE DILIGENTLY WAXED PHILOSOPHY. HUMBLED AS THE DIVINE MAY BECOME, MORTALS STAGNATE IN PRESUMPTIOUSNESS. THIS IS MY APOLOGUE FOR YOU, TO WARD AGAINST SUCH FEEBLE MENTALITIES. THEY ARE BELOW YOUR CRITICAL MIND, OR A MIND I OPTIMISTICALLY PRESUME IN HYPOCRISY IS A CRITICAL ONE.
DO NOT PRETEND TO KNOW WHAT IS IN THE SCRIPT WHEN THRUST INTO TAKING PART IN AN A STAGEPLAY OF IMPROVISATION.
THE SCRIPT IN YOUR HAND IS A FALLACY OF YOUR OWN MAKING.
I REQUEST YOU NOT GRIP THE AIR OF WHICH TRULY IS IN YOUR GRASP TOO TIGHTLY, UNLESS YOU WISH MORTAL ICHOR TO FLOW.
YOU MIGHT RECOGNIZE THE TALE. YOU MIGHT RECOGNIZE THE TRODDEN GROUND. YOU MIGHT RECOGNIZE THE MASKS COBBLED INTO FACES.
THEY LULL YOU AWAY FROM YOUR ACCEPTABLE DELUSIONS.
THE AUTHORS ARE DERIVED FROM THE AUTHORS. FAMILIARITY QUICKLY BECOMES THE PUNCHLINE IN THE ONSET LITERARY AMNESIA. AS THE FALCONS YOU SEE FROM MALTA HAVE BEEN DISTORTED BEYOND RECOGNITION BY MANY ARTISTIC VISIONS, SAVE THE FEW COMMONALITIES FOUND IN THE DARKNESS NOIR, SO HAS THE STORY YOU BELIEVE TO KNOW. FOR IT HAS BEEN RETOLD IN TOO MANY WAYS IN TOO MANY TIMES FOR YOU TO SET FOOT IN CONFIDENTLY.
THIS IS SIMPLY A LUCKY DELECTATION WITHIN A RARITY.
I INVITE YOU TO BEAR WITNESS TO THE NEWEST MASTERPIECE OF COUNTLESS, UNENDING MANY TO COME, IN THE TRUE REALITY OF THE WORLD YOU HAVE CLOSED OUT OF LONG AGO.
THAT IS A JOKE, BY THE WAY.
ACTUALITY OF OUR WORLD WAS NEVER MEANT FOR FOREIGN PRYING EYES. NOT THAT I FAULT YOU FOR PRYING.
AND I INVITE YOU TO PRESS START ON THE MACHINE WITHIN THE TECHNOLOGICAL ARCADIA. YOUR PACE OF FULL EXPERIENCE MAY NOT BE DICTATED BY YOURSELF. OR MAYBE IT WILL. WHO IS TO DECREE SUCH A THING WITH CIRCUMSTANCES AS ATEMPORAL AS THIS?
LET US HOPE YOU ARE PREPARED.