There is a craving hanging onto this fleeting state of existence, a sense of addiction that is always seems to emit. Like some strange scent that lures, teases, and coerces my failing senses into a frenzy like none other. There is a pull, bound to this shattering reality that keeps me grounded here – like a new type of gravity which looks to claim all who ponder and wander into it’s domain as it’s own, stripping us of the free will that we have always known. But this suction, this enticement, this Mesmer seems to all be of a greater purpose, a greater force, leading me onto the true end, that I have been yearning for, headed towards, and striving for – all this time.
Like a serpent in the trenches seeking it’s habitat of dark and cold, all I’ve known is the bottom, and the freefalls which have lead me to it time and time again. But now, as this evolution begins to settle in much more heavily than before, and the state of what is left of my mind begins to fixate on the fading structure of things that is left, I am left with the knowledge, the remembrance, and the remaining promise made to myself. The knowledge being all that has happened since before the death of the Advent and the knowing that final fates shall soon be fulfilled, the remembrance being the binding cycles and circles that have long since begun to fall and meet their end, and the promise that is to come face to face with the fates fruitions, no matter what they hold, and with them, hand in hand, bring forth the ascension that I so crave – no matter the cost, no matter the shade.
For in these crooked corners of this phantom society I have come to the realization of many things; one of which being that when they said that the end of days would reveal many things like none other, they spoke no lies. But lies are all that I hear leaving the tongues of those who reside here, as I watch their shaken and trembling bodies move like a slither across this fractured space. In some fleeting moments, I am drawn to these inhabitants, as the further and further my mind falters – the more I begin to think like them, and the further and further my memories linger – the easier it will be to let go. Because I’m like a serpent in society, a watcher of all that remains, yet a devourer of all the same; my vices, growing and expanded as the need to consume to remain becomes more and more prevalent. I slither across this broken timeline and creep through the crevices of holes, wounds, and voids that I could never hope to mend or fill. For it is of my remaining nature to bear witness to this state, to take it all in, to let it all in, as a way to now follow in the footsteps that came before me.
