Shrooms00087
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Aug 4, 2008
- Messages
- 3,282
In my vessel I look down to see colorless rose petals floating all around my ship. I look up to see in the distance, there, in the middle of the ocean a small island made of rocks, roses, skeletons, and one Bo-Tree which houses a beautiful woman. Our eyes meet and instantly become transfixed. One word punctures the silence of the indescribable moment, fate. Silence quickly inverts its tune into song. Pure harmony now echoes and envelopes the universe. Without hesitation I set sail to greet this Goddess. In the shrinking distance I see that the woman is dressed in layers of pure white. Around her are the skeletons of previous wanderers. Colorless rose petals now circle her, propelled by the wind in her voice. As I get closer the melody enriches and now reality distorts behind her, leaving her the only focal point. When I blink the darkness lasts for centuries and the music stops. Once my eyes open, my ship is in ruins. I am standing on the bones of the fallen. She stands holding a new rose, her beauty strikes awe, but her lovely voice is shattered. As she opens her mouth to speak, the only sound that escapes is the bloom of a death knell. I look down to see my once sea worthy body unraveling layer by layer --I am becoming disfigured. The fat was first in unhinging, the very walls that secured nude organs. Then my nervous system detached from my muscles, my regulator of pain and pleasure now left my body. My muscles then lost their grip and began unfolding like wet noodles, straight into the void. Realizing now the architecture of my being has left, leaving only organs. Seeing that my body has left I am only contemplating how right this situation is. The pain, by now being completely conceptual, is true pain. Physical pain in these measures are not apt by comparison. Out of instinct for survival I turn to anger. "Christ!" I shout, "What is the purpose of your existence? You scum sucking bottom feeder!" My anguish has a brief pause as she tilts her head seemingly confused and replies, "it is you who came to me, quit acting in poor taste" with her right hand she removes my bladder. Then with her left she strikes at my stomach and tugs out my intestines like a cat with yarn saying only, "you are having trouble digesting this whole experience aren't you?" Now all that remains is my penis, heart, and brain. She knows I am recognizing my essence and with a smile castrates me. "Wait God damn you! If I am to die I demand answers!" Again with a face of curiosity she plucks at the colorless rose petals with serene indifference. "If you are to survive; now is not the time for answers lest you wish to end up like these past roses" she assures. My heart then explodes from my rib cage where it floats next to the rose she grips. "Wait! I am sorry for whatever I have done to cause this justice!" My cries for mercy mean nothing to this creature.
"You cannot regret the past anymore than you can atone for it." She implies
"Ah, but I can atone! Is this not what I am doing here, right now?" I've been a glutton hoarding walls, I've cared not for those I have hurt or given pleasure, I've been weak, horny, and self-reliant. I submit to you that you are not death anymore than you are rapture! You are God I only came to know thee!"
I invoked pity I thought, but she knew I childishly invoked it. She now sees that her victims did not see her as a monster, but were destroyed with love for her. "Fine" she says reluctantly "I will grant you three questions." Seeing as how only my mind was left housed in my skeleton I knew the importance of the questions. My distorted reality faltered and I was granted temporal peace to regain my focus and find the questions to ask.
"What is the nature of your song?" I ask.
Smiling she answers, "Only to give that which is sought. You sought answers, I gave you curiosity. True I did lead you here sailor but it was your love of ocean that brought you to me."
So, the nature of her song is nothing but reflection. She must be lonely! Still the gravity of my situation remains at hand, how do you puncture a reflection?
"Can you hear your own song? Are you capable of seeing your own reflection?"
"I am that which is not. Does a mirror have consciousness? No for a mirror is That which is Not."
My God this monster is such because she can't see her own ineffable beauty. Even her fatal flaws are strengths which breathe testimony to her immortal beauty. Her nature then is death, a crow of intense proportions! She crucifies without so much as batting an eye yet remains a perfect reflection of her own loneliness and love. God help me!
"Final question traveler."
"Do you love me?"
"No."
"On with it then" I yelled. "You are not a perfect mirror anyhow you cannot reflect my immense love for you! I cast you into the void as the perfectly flawed diamond you are! Lastly and most importantly, fuck you! However I owe you endless thanks! You showed me a flawed diamond is a perfect one, and they are to be treasured, that is the embodiment of art. The flawed diamond that reflects light so long as the sun lends it!"
She quickly crushes the rose in spite obliterating it on-site. She is unraveling as I had, she is reflecting the very same torment. The bones of the dead now whirl in ashes storming around all the plucked petals. I see that my skeleton has turned to ash and I am only my mind. That beautiful song became the last cry I've ever heard from the most beautiful of all possible sirens. Even as I began the gruesome prospect of becoming death I only felt love and gratitude even if the expression was torture.
"Son of a bastard" I thought to myself, "I hope I killed her and will see her again. If not I hope she finds someone worthy enough to free her from that island. For all falling leaves have but one logical purpose, to hit fertile Ground and give back to the great nurturer!"
"You cannot regret the past anymore than you can atone for it." She implies
"Ah, but I can atone! Is this not what I am doing here, right now?" I've been a glutton hoarding walls, I've cared not for those I have hurt or given pleasure, I've been weak, horny, and self-reliant. I submit to you that you are not death anymore than you are rapture! You are God I only came to know thee!"
I invoked pity I thought, but she knew I childishly invoked it. She now sees that her victims did not see her as a monster, but were destroyed with love for her. "Fine" she says reluctantly "I will grant you three questions." Seeing as how only my mind was left housed in my skeleton I knew the importance of the questions. My distorted reality faltered and I was granted temporal peace to regain my focus and find the questions to ask.
"What is the nature of your song?" I ask.
Smiling she answers, "Only to give that which is sought. You sought answers, I gave you curiosity. True I did lead you here sailor but it was your love of ocean that brought you to me."
So, the nature of her song is nothing but reflection. She must be lonely! Still the gravity of my situation remains at hand, how do you puncture a reflection?
"Can you hear your own song? Are you capable of seeing your own reflection?"
"I am that which is not. Does a mirror have consciousness? No for a mirror is That which is Not."
My God this monster is such because she can't see her own ineffable beauty. Even her fatal flaws are strengths which breathe testimony to her immortal beauty. Her nature then is death, a crow of intense proportions! She crucifies without so much as batting an eye yet remains a perfect reflection of her own loneliness and love. God help me!
"Final question traveler."
"Do you love me?"
"No."
"On with it then" I yelled. "You are not a perfect mirror anyhow you cannot reflect my immense love for you! I cast you into the void as the perfectly flawed diamond you are! Lastly and most importantly, fuck you! However I owe you endless thanks! You showed me a flawed diamond is a perfect one, and they are to be treasured, that is the embodiment of art. The flawed diamond that reflects light so long as the sun lends it!"
She quickly crushes the rose in spite obliterating it on-site. She is unraveling as I had, she is reflecting the very same torment. The bones of the dead now whirl in ashes storming around all the plucked petals. I see that my skeleton has turned to ash and I am only my mind. That beautiful song became the last cry I've ever heard from the most beautiful of all possible sirens. Even as I began the gruesome prospect of becoming death I only felt love and gratitude even if the expression was torture.
"Son of a bastard" I thought to myself, "I hope I killed her and will see her again. If not I hope she finds someone worthy enough to free her from that island. For all falling leaves have but one logical purpose, to hit fertile Ground and give back to the great nurturer!"
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