A colder more fragile sense of feeling settles in around this place in which we dine tonight, like where our sharp words fall on purer ears and our ill intent can be tasted in the smaller more savory bites of the essence that we consume. The itis that clouds over me with each and every ounce that I consume strings me into a fall that leads into the hands of fate while your voice beckons from all around. Like a setting out of some nightmare, your words begin to pain pictures with their very meaning becoming a canvas for something far greater. Like a setting out of some nightmare, I can see what will befall stagnant society. From the spillage of blood, to the consumption of darker poisons, and fires so bright they could pierce even the darkest of nights skies – it all awaits somewhere along with unraveling line within this shattering reality.
And though we may drink and eat as one, you still may not know of my true state, the one that in which hides behind the mask, the one that remains shrouded behind sharp words, the one that gazes behind the daydreaming eyes that drift off before you. For my plans are selfish and sycophant in nature, and shall concern none but me alone. For those who walk among me have already chosen their fated paths in a reality that seeks to lie, deceive, and mislead to no end. For while this sculpture that is reality had once been so bright, and mighty, and beautiful to the untrained eye – to those who seek to forge their own shall surely bear witness to the scars, blemishes, and fractures which plague it – among much more to follow. So as my sharpened tongue licks what remains this fallen blood, still parched for poisons, I set out to find my final solutions of this all, to in act the final act to bring about the finality of these final cycles – and see to it that this reality falls.
