His name was Beauty and he was a damsel in distress.
The most ostentatious feature was the manicured nails; the hair was slightly bleached, yellow sunspots along linear figurations; white skin with lips glossed bubblegum pink. He looked beautiful enough and he was insomnia incarnate. The girls in the class admired him and the boys, surprisingly, did as well. He was not at all ostracized and he was quite ecstatic; he was in insomnia but no one knew it…yet… The boy wanted to be saved by a romantic kiss by another man. He read the story when he was younger – how men come up and kiss women awakened from poisoned sleep, so, he decided that it was time that he dressed up beautifully as the women and wait for his man to kiss him awake.
But awake from what? He never asked that and it was not really required. Nor did he think it important because a romantic kiss was an epiphany and it was important to house an epiphany.
So he told his parents:
” I’m on a silent pilgrimage. Bring me a woman but I will not kiss her. Bring me a man and I will surely want to get kissed by him.”
The parents found this thought audacious but they were aiming to please him so they decided if a man made their son happy they will definitely bring him one.
Their choice was an older man and Beauty disliked him immediately. The man told Beauty to wear clothes like a man but Beauty could not. When the time came to kiss the man Beauty felt helpless for he did not want to kiss the man.
His parents were enraged:
” You said you wanted a man!”
He was forcefully married to the older man and whenever he wished to dress in vivid colours the older man rebuked him:
” Why are you trying to be feminine? I didn’t marry you so you could be feminine; now, did I?”
This traumatized Beauty; this traumatized him so much that he decided that if he was not allowed to buy the clothes he wanted then he will definitely make them. Quietly, he brought a spinning wheel and it was one endowed with magic. He decided to be a Lady by night when his husband left him in his boudoir when their marital obligations were over. Then he wore pinks, reds, blues, yellows and greens to his heart contentment and was not obligated to wear only browns and blacks, and other “manly” deeper shades. He scoffed at his husband’s choices and decided to do this.
However, he was quite upset – the enigmatic epiphany of the kiss was not revealed to him.
This is not the right man, he thought, This is not the right man whom I’ve married!
So Beauty sewed his clothes at night and decided that no one entered the sewing- room except him. There was one man in his husband’s manor, the despised philanderer Witch named Charming, who yearned for the older husband’s attentions. He was envious of Beauty’s handsomeness and knew how his “feminine” qualities were despised by his lascivious master. Unable to control his urges, he kissed Beauty and spoke hotly into his ear:
“ I love it when you dress in Pink.”
Beauty felt seduced by Charming because he found no romance with his older, domineering husband, thus he decided that this Charming was the prince-man who would give him the epiphany-kiss. So, this was the decision of the passionate Beauty who wore all his pinks and reds in front of the Prince-man Charming.
“ You know this is the way I am,” Beauty confessed, “ My husband thinks I am feminine, maybe, that is true but Charming I feel I am only being myself – I thought being a man meant being assertive and that is what I’m doing; who is trying to be a woman? I’m happy being a man and I always wish that I am a man. In school people loved the way I dressed it’s a shame my husband finds me unattractive. I thought about it hard in my hand but I think a real woman is also one who is able to be herself. I know tradition may call me feminine then I will laugh at those people and gladly accept it for it is me not an artificial ‘man’ who is being himself. What do you think Charming?”
“ I believe you are yourself.” Lied the faithless Charming.
Charming went into the room of the spinning-wheel, as invited by Beauty, and saw all his designs. Charming commented on their beauty (it was true that he liked them) and decided that he might wear some of them as his own secret after the wretched Beauty was gone. He had devised a trap for Beauty but first…he would not disagree that Beauty was beauty incarnate…
“ Let us make ourselves, bind ourselves, share with me what you share with your husband…”
In this slight whisper Beauty succumbed to the delusional love of Charming; he thought that Charming’s kiss that scorched and burned was the epiphany. Yes, it was – but, not the kind he had desired.
After the older husband had returned from the nightly visits to his men and women mistresses he once yearned for the beautiful body of Beauty; tonight, he had drunk too much ecstasy and decided that his feelings for Beauty in the category of lust surpassed the ones he had felt at that moment. He searched for his “wife” and wondered where his husband had lain. He was curious as Beauty was not in their bed nor in his boudoir. He grew worried and restless as he needed Beauty to satiate him but who would appear but Charming dressed in white and pink – Beauty’s newest design, who he had made for Charming.
“ That dress looks impressive Charming, something a woman would wear – but it suits you.” He caressed his servant’s cheek.
“ Master you do not let your wife, Beauty, wear such clothes…”
“ It’s because he gets happy, I want him to be miserable so that our lives do not get interfered by his admirers – I want him to be masculine – I think him to be masculine so that I can have some of my other fantasies quenched. He did not like me before and so if I allowed his femininity he would think me not man enough for him so I want him to be masculine. Also I had seen him feminine, I want to see him masculine as well – both sides of his fleshed coin I wish to explore…”
“ My master quench your thirst on me.”
“ Very well Charming,” the older man slaps him, “ Remember to be more humble…”
“ Yes…yes…I’m sorry, forgive me…”
“ I will forgive you after you have satisfied me. Then I will seek Beauty…”
After the deed Charming’s mischief comes to play, “ Master, do you want Beauty feminine or masculine tonight?”
“ Both as my other whores lacked his femininity and masculinity…”
“ Would you start with feminine then sir or masculine?”
“ If he is wearing his feminine clothes behind my knowledge I will rip them off his skin and then tell him to follow his obligations.”
“ Sir, he sleeps in his sewing-room.”
“ What sewing-room!”
“ Master here it is!”
The older husband is astonished to find a naked Beauty; covered in nothing, his “sin” is for the world to see. The older man is furious!
Beauty is shocked to find him in his sewing-room and what was worse he saw the smugness in Charming’s face. He is confused, “ What are you doing here? How come you know?”
“ You wretched slut! You spend your nights away from me with other lovers and sew clothes I detest!”
“ No! It was only Charming…only Charming…” Beauty’s tears questioned Charming.
“ Oh Master forgive me but your husband had seduced me!” Charming spilled pseudo-water and the older man was convinced.
“ I will punish you Beauty!” The older husband beat Beauty hard, “ Your clothes are to be burned in your blood!”
He set fire to his “feminine” creations and pricked Beauty’s fingers and let the blood drop into the flames. Beauty cried in shame and anguish, in despair and sorrow. All this time he had been deceived and he gave himself to a man as bad as his husband.
“ Now Beauty, your real punishment begins…” the older man looked with menacing eyes that hungered for satisfaction.
Beauty shriek as his spinning-wheel was used to spin glass onto his skin. Every part of his body glowed in blood and shards! He cried and cried and cried!
Charming was actually afraid but he laughed – laughter for Beauty’s punishment but fear for it as well.
“ In this your lust will sleep!” the older man showed no mercy to the heartbroken, spirit-broken and flesh-broken Beauty, “ Your love for me is all you need! This mirror will only show me, the person you only need to see and you will stay in this room until I feel satisfaction in your devotion!”
With it he raped Beauty and left stating, “ Charming will now get your belongings! You will only get them back after you have satisfied me!”
Years went by and Beauty was defiled and defiled and defiled and left to his glassed body. Charming enjoyed the position of Beauty as the legal concubine and cared not for Beauty. He only went to kiss Beauty awake before the older man would visit. He would coo:
“ I have come to awake you from the poisoned sleep of your pricked fingers by the spinning-wheel.”
“ Why Charming have you done this…?” Beauty wept and questioned.
“ Because I am rightfully the husband- wife, whatever you wish of this rightful man not you…” then with a smug smile, “ Thank-you for the dress you made me I ever so love it…I also wear the other dresses too and use the spinning-wheel to put more jewels on them.”
“ You have…you have…” Beauty wept some more.
All Charming did was to awake him to his now doubled insomnia. Prince Charming awoke him from his glass prison but just awoke him – never free him.
One day, after being horribly raped, Beauty decided to escape. He used the mirror’s powers by night to move in shadows. As the mirror showed the image of the master of the house and the moon cloaked him in her body’s pureness, the guards did not suspect anything awry. He escaped into the forests but found moving a torture: his skin gashed with the glass he wore as his coffin drained him of blood and energy!
As time went in the forest Beauty encased himself in a glass room made of glass fragments that fell of him. It was a crypt, to see himself; as disfigured in a beautiful mirrored prison. He wept but did not know how to remove the mirrors with direct force. He forgot of his dreams of being kissed. He knew it was hopeless. No man would kiss him awake. All women found him like this – a decoration piece. He felt humiliated. He prayed and prayed for some reason.
One day a beautiful person came – Her name was Poseidon – she wore thick armory made out of water. She saw the boxed-house and thought who had made it. Her Kingdom was Water across everywhere and she found it odd that a watery magic was seemingly being misused. She destroyed the house of glass to see the scarred glassed Beauty inside.
“ Oh my God! What has happened to you!”
But Beauty had lost his voice…too sad to speak…she approached him and kissed him…
In a fury all glass broke and glass smeared with blood but the glass inside was not broken. Poseidon carried beauty into her own private spring and laid him there.
Suddenly Beauty’s anguish turned to anger! He wanted justice and he wanted to grow wings!
He started scrubbing himself and the remaining glass mixed with water and then they became wings of glass upon Beauty’s back. He looked at Poseidon with gratitude and determination:
“ Come sweet Prince-Woman-Princess, I, your Princess-man wish to exact revenge!”
“ Of course: water used for inappropriate lust cannot be forgiven!”
They went to the older man’s manor and saw him asleep. Poseidon used her sword called Ice to stab him and he howled awake.
“ Now old man you will be my deceased husband!” Beauty screamed, he used his wings to grow shards and with the help of Poseidon used the spinning-wheel’s needle to sew into him a mirror-prison.
“ Now this mirror will show you, yourself!”
And the older man screamed as he saw the glass become more deep and sharp and soon it stabbed his innards as an Iron Maiden and set him ablaze in his own Blood. He finally was ashamed seeing his own perversity.
“ Now Poseidon I will punish Charming!”
“ Do not forgive him Dear Beauty! Kiss him awake to his Macabre!”
Beauty found Charming in his Boudoir and Charming awoke to Beauty’s lips, which gave him a kiss, but they were glazed with glass:
“ My beautiful lips!”
“ Hush thou devilish spawn!”
And Beauty kissed the wounded, damaged lips of Charming until he became weary of speech. Beauty looked in horror as his clothes were altered: each of them had precious stones sewed into them making them look as clumsy masses!
“ You have disfigured my beauties! You have disfigured my passions! You have disfigured me! Now I shall disfigure you!”
Beauty took the spinning-wheel and started taking his clothes and then he sewed them into Charming! Charming screamed and screamed and he sewed and sewed, until Charming laughed and said, “ What will this do?!”
“ You will become only what you lust you wretched evil!” Poseidon instructed.
Charming realized that his avarice was his greatest hunger and he foolishly succumbed…All the lace, diamonds, stones and jewels replaced his skin, flesh, organs and blood. Soon he looked like some grotesque mannequin made of nothingness – he screamed and broke apart.
Beauty then set fire to the spinning-wheel but pricked his fingers and drew blood. With that blood he forged the sword called Sleep.
“ Why have you done this dear Beauty?” Poseidon asked sweetly.
“ You have awakened me but I have also awakened myself, this sword will put to sleep my woes and sorrows – this is the first step, I will reclaim my life.”
With it he kissed Poseidon and asked if he could marry her. Poseidon decided to wait, “ My sweet Beauty let us not be in haste – you have much to recover and we must know each other more than by our deeds.”
Beauty agreed as he did not want to marry Poseidon until he was sure enough that he loved her wholly and knew her. Besides he could be swept away by another woman or man in the future.
Beauty had woken from his waking insomnia – he pined for the kiss of epiphany but with more knowledge of its powers to awake. His parents, ashamed by their decisions, asked forgiveness. He forgave but had a new pilgrimage:
“ My odyssey, my pilgrimage now, is to survive obstacles and keep myself whole.”
He then wore a garment made of vivid blue, green, red and pink in lovely illustrations and looked himself at a long mirror. He gasped at his fullness:
“ And I am asleep no more.”
” And there the witches glare
their eyes of hardened watery sin
There the witches sew
bodies of hair and bone
There were witches, only one was ‘she’
The ‘he’s were all quiet
The ‘he’s decided to claim the ‘she’
Then the ‘she’ gave another ‘she’
bone and hair
To become earth from air
The glasses in between…”
All is right in the world
the lights are out
All was right in this world
because the lights were out
All has to be right in the world
Because…the lights are…who switched them on?
And in the blood merrier than ever
A soul knows he and she are there alive
Blood in me
Sweet as lead
as an iron thread
making a glassy dress
touch the mould
as earth is, iron oath
dissolving in tears
Aphrodite was beautiful than ever because…well, she was heralded as beauty – spilling dark masses and lips too, and her dark earth skin made her regal. Unlike Eros, whose pallid complexion was overbearingly morbid. His hair were sun-like and so poisonously hot. Actually, he was aneroxic and far in need of nutrition.
That is why Aphrodite went to a witch, her name was Salmeen, or actually, she was paired with her brother, Lilith. Now Lilith did not like Eros because Lilith thought Eros had whispered into Aphrodite’s ear that he was not a great leader or good magician. Lilith was enraged so he told the demon Blasphemy to make Eros the most beautiful man in the present world. Salmeen, however, read that Lilith may try to do this, so she told the human Psyche to be Eros’s companion.
Psyche was an ordinary boy, born out of the demon Lust and the human Titan. He could be greedy and was prone to be under the mercy of Avarice and thus maidens did not marry him, so he declared:
” If maidens will not marry me I will remain a spinster!”
As Salmeen knew how in need of a friend Psyche was she told Eros that joys could be fun in the quiet moon. Eros impaled his new sunny looks with a house of men and women where all vices and virtues were welcome. He was happy because Psyche was with him but upset that all the maidens there decided to look at Psyche and not him.
So Eros went to Lilith and they devised a plan: Psyche must be caught with the mirror in which Aphrodite sees her face!
When Aphrodite went out Psyche was rushed into the room to look for her mirror. Eros told Psyche that one look at Aphrodite’s meant the beauty of Eden could be seen. Curious, Psyche agreed though a bit unwilling seeing it could have bad repurcussions (is it not impolite the touch the thing of others without asking).
Psyche found the mirror but only saw another face there. Narcissi was the name of the face and he was in love with Aphrodite but Aphrodite had pushed him into a lake when they were children and didn’t know he could swim – so he became one with the lake. Aphrodite was upset and happy – upset to lose her companion but happy that he became a lake so she broke a piece of the lake – which had becomed iron and made it mirror with her blood.
Psyche said that Eros thought Eden could be seen in Aphrodite’s mirror. Narcissi laughed and declared:
” I am Eden!”
And before Psyche could do anything Narcissi grabbed him and burned him into the mirror. Psyche saw that Narcissi had come out and then he revealed his cruelty:
” I have been in the lake but I could not go to the ocean as Aphrodite went there but if I kill Aphrodite I might become Ocean and Eden both!”
” But isn’t she the one you love?!”
To this Psyche got a reply, ” I must own my earthy Aphrodite nor else how can I love her? And I will give myself under her ownership as well! Beautiful love means that one must stay and be together as one!”
Psyche was horrified: Did Eros know about Narcissi?
No, Eros did not know neither did Lilith – they had pondered that a small boy named Medusa ate anyone aside Aphrodite who looked into the mirror – but they were wrong!
Medusa the boy with skin as stone was also immersed into the lake as Narcissi but he did not want to be there as the lake was forgiving and he had vengence. He soon Psyche and told his story:
” Once upon a time I was a girl and the truth was that I was born a man but made into a woman by Apollo, the healing woman, she said a poison was stirred in me and by menstruation it would leave my body. I became a girl but soon was restored as a man but the King Nymph had seen this and wanted me to tell Apollo that if I could be allowed to change genders at will so I can be both girl and boy. I was excited to be both and girl but because of the severity of the magic my heart turned to stone and my eyes became blank. Apollo was at a loss of words but King Nymph said that in this woman-man prison of curse I will tell others of indifference and apathy so I will be his greatest weapon.
Apollo was distraught as she realized that her magic was intervened by King Nymph so she put me in the Lake of Forgiveness so I could be a man again. But, my heart of stone makes my human self angry and agressive. I must find King Nymph.”
Psyche explained his situation, ” I must get rid of my avarice.”
” Why are you then greedy oh good Psyche?”
” I was born out of Lust and Titan and they forged me into a being who does not quell from vices or virtues – I must seek the bridge!”
” Well I shall help you but who is this man Narcissi?”
” Narcissi is a man who wants a new beauty – he wishes to forsake his own.”
” And I have heard of Aphrodite, who is she?”
” She is a wise woman and beautiful; she is a sorceress in training who helps Sorcerers in training and she is a good friend of the wise woman Salmeen.”
” Salmeen has a brother named Lilith I heard…”
” Yes, what about him Medusa?”
“” I had heard a story from Apollo that he hates Eros.”
” Really, but he has assisted him!”
” Only to assist his revenge good Psyche.”
” I must warn Eros!”
In the meantime Eros only waned and waxed over bodies and bodies. His sun was brighter, his skin glowed and his charm seduced yet he was not happy. He missed his beloved friend Psyche and was angered by his envy. Though his envy flared when maidens asked, “Where was Psyche?”
One day, to his house, came a young maiden, a beggar, named Hercules. She was tall and looked aesthetically made for sport. She told Eros that he shouldn’t sit around and just look for Psyche. Eros realized that Lilith had made him beautiful only for physical pleasures and not for honour. To cure himself of his spell he burned his eyes with wax and became his self again.
On her journey Aphrodite had met King Nymph who was quarreling with Ares, the child guardian of armory when his older sister Athena, the God-given champion of the game War stopped them. She told Ares that Narcissi will use the sacred sword Olympus to kill Aphrodite because then he can eat her and becomed the cursed Hermaphrodite named GenderBinary.
Aphrodite is shocked and approaches them with the Hermaphrodite Verus, the blessed Hermaphrodite comes along. Verus says that King Nymph must be put to sleep for some time so that the curse in Medus can be lifted and that to do this she must break the mirror of the Lake of Forgiveness and stab him. Aphrodite requests Ares and Athena to hold down King Nymph so she can get her mirror.
Inside the mirror Medusa and Psyche are met with the End Of Time. End Of Time has come only to see them, she must go away to her pilgrimage but she doesn’t know ‘Where’ God will send her. End Of Time final act is to help Eros come into their glass. She does this by reminding Eros of their friendship which makes him grow wings and embrace Psyche – Psyche then realizes Eros has gone blind so he grows wings and from his feathers cures Eros’s blindness.
Their feathers break the mirror and Aphrodite sees this. She calls on to them and Medusa rushes forward hearing King Nymph’s name.
Ares and Athena are battling King Nymph as he hates the idea of incarceration. In this fuss and fury appears Narcissi who has aluded all the others, with his glass he stabs King Nymph removing the curse inflicted on Medusa. He then explains calmly:
” I am made of the glass that was in the lake, now, I will use it to join myself with Aphrodite but first Olympus….”
Aphrodite feels her powers draining as Narcissi kissed her, hardly, ” It is time my dear to be one and only one.”
Lilith appears with Salmeen both have jars containing something: it is their hair and broken bones. They grew back the bones they had broken and now used the hair as ferrers and the bones as wrist-chains. Narcissi is distraught and then sees Psyche . He decides to have Narcissi swim back to the lake but Narcissi refuses. He breaks free only to be then stabbed by the sword Olympus. His corpse falls into the Lake and soon the water turns hot and cold: the water is no longer complete forgiveness – it has now vanity in it and a mutalation of all things sacred.
At this moment Verus appears and tells them he must also join the lake as his Hermaphrodism will corrupt GenderBinary. She meshes with the lake as well but it still looks too distorted. That is when Psyche, Eros, Medusa, Lilith, Ares, Athena, Aphrodite and Salmeen cut themselves and pour a bit of their blood into the lake. The lake suddenly rises up and becomes a ball but it was drying up! By itself it could not own many personas!
So, that is when they all decided it was time. Medusa said he will agree. Lilith apologizes to Eros and says he wants to be with Aphrodite. Eros is embittered and says that to become Aphrodite’s husband he must first repent so Lilith agrees to become bodyguard to the garden that Eros will grow apples. Hercules takes charge of Olympus and says she will create a twin sword called Excalibur. Athena and Ares decides to age with war. Aphrodite will see if Lilith and she are partners but before that she will create the libary of sounds and words underneath the ocean from coral who she knows speak well as God ordained and will help her. Salmeen says she will become the Oracle of winds and flowers and help sustain peace.
With this all beings gave up their blood. The whole heavens shook and shook and in the end the water became a ball and the whole landscape turned black:
The wings of Psyche, Medusa and Eros made a white ball accompanied by the Planet Earth.
” The Little thing was a rarity
a complex simplicity
a morbid freedom
in hushed symphonies
This little thing is quietly noisy
for her silence vehemently shouts
her noise quells the rain
storm and sun, all in all, wholeness
But Little thing are you not made of man
A baby of ruse and whisper
Of make-up and real-up
taught to be so gargantuan
Little, Little thing are you really valuable?
And craned necks croon
the bottles hiss in disembodied melodies
the meadows dry and lakes of sand revive
Little, little thing why are you – dead?”
” In the citadel of planetary sins
you wore the plethora of virtues
clutched between Venus and Mars
You were popular symmetry yet assymetrical
Poised as you stood in the moonbeam way
governed by the exodus of begininng
hypnotized by the quarreling stars
Raging quietly as thunder in a box.
You said ‘No’
‘No’ to all the perfections in the front
all designs to be flawlessly thrown
in the examination they failed for thy sovereignty
mad were they to be coy and shallow in their explicit contamination
So, So, So – what is your evaluation?
Hence, I travelled to the song of the sun
moon-ray watched as voyeur in the castle of night
his seductions welcome as day blinked her eyes confused
Yet you would not say in the least positions
You made way to heavenly ordainance
Silk-cotton etcetera was your wear
You said ‘Beloved do not fear for earth is but the standard rotation…'”
I am a paradigm of lust
a sole survivor
of mortality that deepens the void
and causes cancellation
The truth is no fairytale
The fairytale was hidden truth all along
Now, you see lore is real
The glass is not only the surface
One day you’ll see
Maybe this is not the true you
But deception is all real anyway
So, I forge an alliance with sin and virtue
In the end why make the facade?
We’re both beings near the edge
Soon to be thrust in the Lethe of eternity…
A song I wrote was inspired by Ghost in The Shell:Stand Alone Complex’s “Velveteen” (a song from the anime, the music was going through my head while writing this). Hope you guys like it.
Probably, it was easier believed that the mountain could be lifted…why did she believe in dreaming?
She doesn’t remember when she stopped dreaming.
Her heart is a pinnacle of raw cold and raw heat: she is the incarnation of extremity. She cannot be nefarious nor nice with stability. When her heart needed something she wanted to ignore it. She didn’t like the idea of being wrought around desire though she was something of desire.
Numbness, numb fingers, flesh deceices flesh in an artificial dance; but, this is called the epitome of desire. The threads of the doll, with one unbuttoned eye blinks at her mercilessly; she thinks the inanimate could rush with animate tears but those are wild dreaming – works of an artist attempting to become God’s lover – but God cannot have a lover. The impossibility of the unbuttoned eye makes her want to know if her eyes could dream stringless or string-hanging – some sort of boudoir of luxury.
The Skin is raw here. She has de-virginized herself. She rubs the blood and sees blood in her eyes. The incubus smiles as he thinks he has called her into his scion of lust-carvers. She numbly sings a song.
She walks down her old school. She sees her ex-boyfriend. He doesn’t smile at her. Tragedy. In slow motion he is a canvas of blood; there, that is the cataract in her mind. Why should he smile at her? Wait, he smiles – he says something but she really doesn’t stay around. She’s afraid. She runs and runs until she stops near an ice-cream parlour. She orders his favourite flavour.
In the middle of the night the blood is licked by the incubus; she sheds some tears of blood and compliments her. She knows its rape.
“Why are you avoiding me?”
” Because you remind me of a bad dream.”
” Listen, we are older now and –
” Remember that time I had cut my finger and bled a lot?”
” Uh, yes..”
” The wound, I like licking it…”
” What do you mean?”
” It seems so ordinary but he likes it fine.”
” Uh, your new boyfriend…?”
” Better…he sleeps with me at night.”
Blood is something trans-experimental but also in the position of a embryo: experimental. When blood is smeared it is the initial stage for cosmetic-fineries. It is engaging, almost enchanting. It could mean a promise kept out in the garden that needs to poured some elixir of yourself. Blood is one’s own mortality thus it is the trans-experimental identity. The sucubus is She now and as skin clashes like metal the rape is galvanized by the voyeuristic incubus.
It tastes like opium. The opiate eyes look at the children and she wishes to cannabilize them. Because they are useless – they are not hers. They look like overgrown embryos and thus scissors are needed. But it is only the identity of the night-opiate: her true self, which is just jesting. She laughs with an edge:
” Do you want candy?”
The sugary delight of degradation calls her. She feels that the person’s flesh is too over-excited and she yearns the cacophony of the instrument to stop. She requests this but this breeds more restlessness but the climax is promising. She stabs him with scissors though.
When the woman came she requested an explanation:
” Why did you soak my kids in red paint?
” Well, they laughed – there wasn’t anything bad in it.”
” They look so dirty.”
” Blood is meant to be dirty at times.”
” What, what – what do you mean?”
” Can I smear you?”
” Did you…did you do something?”
The ex-boyfriend kisses her. He cradles her and then there was a startle. Then she thought of the iebriation. She could not coil so she screamed.
The Skin and flesh was of the innocent. An untamed hemisphere, an inexperienced curious – she told the wanderer that the edge was the alien. He complimented her by saying she reminded him of his ex-beau. He was the unaware; the incubus yearned this too. Blood boiling is the sweetest scent.
She could not see the children. So, she ate an apple instead and then got a call. Her ex-boyfriend wanted to give an apology but she countered by apologizing. She stated the best thing if exes stayed exes for a long time. The blood from the apple gave a sweet tint – his laugh was not her focus and what he said was not her importance – she smeared the apple with the blood. She laughed too.
The Skins were not the perfection. It incited. What purpose…what purpose? They are but puppets attempting to be puppeteers. So annoying. She wanted the climax in the precision of the desired ritual. Not the stagnation. A voice – not rogue, not in the party – a commodity? No, not a puppet.
The strings are lifted?
Puppets going haywire – no, no, they are already…or are they?
In the moment she realized that the “dream world” was meant to fade, be corrupted and infected. But, where was the incubus? He was there…there…there! Why are these puppets so stagnant and why is he so impossible!
The staccato falling…the failing…oh, very very heartbreaking…
Can the heart break? Can it be like that ceramic inanimate beings? Is heart like a craftshop? Then why are there no customers! No! Wait! Why aren’t they any customers! No! Wait! Is She Ceramic! Is she! No…the bones are being bended…argh! Uh! So Painful! So Atrocious! Ceramic…it’s all glittering! It’s all being turned to ceramic! Ceramic! Ceramic! Like Plastic! Like glass-plastic! No the heart! The heart now! Why! Why does it become ceramic! No! Stop! See! It …it…Oh! It’s BREAKING!
BREAKING! BREAKING! BREAKING! BREAKING! BREAKING! BREAKING! BREAKING! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
In it the children. When they are red they look eaten. She ate crayons before – she ate them nicely. When she was younger she ate crayons. The pre-school teacher yelled sweetly, no, no angry. Just so scared. Oh look it looked like someone has mauled you, she use to say to her and wipe her mouth. But she smeared again. Again and Again. Hoping to hear what “maul” meant – was it some kind of beauty technique. Her mother made her beautiful and spoke that beauty is pretty. Red, Red, Red, Red: So like beautiful. So like blood. Blood is actual mortal beauty. No, No, No, ceramic is -so pour the blood on the ceramic. It looks pretty. It looks precise. Maybe, it was blood poured on the forbidden fruit – Eve grinded her blood and fed it to Adam then Adam did the same – the fruit was ceramic or was it glass? Nope, they overdosed and asphxiated that is why they fell off the flat world of Heaven. So philosophers and scientists got it wrong. The earth was round as the ceramic-blood fruit that pollinated it but the world of Eden was flat.
Flat.Flat. Flat. Flat as ballerina shows, Flat as the shoes she wore as a child; Flat as the shoes she wore now. How Flat was the Universe of Perfection?
So the heart that can break could not be round. It had to be flat. Flat as surfaces when they connected, flat as two little things moving; flat, flat – then everything was numb.
She woke up to the night of nights – the daylight burned her. It seems to want to maul her through the windows. But it was not red. Her room was ceramic too – so, this was Eden-white? Eden, was it here?
” Oh Thank God you woke up! I was so scared! Those men attacked you! Do you remember!” her ex.
” What men?”
” They were…nevermind they -”
” Where is he who sleeps with me…?”
” Listen, the doctor said -”
” Where is he?”
” He’s not real…the doctor said you should -”
She gets up and runs. She sees the incubus and he is standing, standing near the window, oh yes, the open window…he wants her…she jumps and crashes…to another floor…she runs and runs…ceramic is mixing with the forbidden fruit…voices are everywhere…is this where he makes ecstacies and keeps them so he can study them?
Running and Running and Running until she sees his face clearly. It looks different. Suddenly everything breaks and the blood, the ceramic they clash. The incubus looks so foreign…like every man whose skin…No, NO! NO! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!
The ceramic-red heart finally must break.
” I don’t understand doctor, she lives such an ordinary life.”
” Well, that is why she kinda had a double life, she’s not well.”
” I should have known. I want to help her.”
” Does she have any family, relatives or anyone?”
” Doc, I really don’t know. She was always an enigma to me.”
” It is the extraordinary that can be mapped, the ordinary is the enigma.”
” Your belief?”
“Doc, until you find anyone can I stay with her?”
” You love her…?”
” Kinda I think. I wanna help.”
” Tell you what, sign these.”
” Anything you wanna tell me, anything she told you?”
” It was kinda disturbing but she said someone slept with her at night.”
The doctor looked upset then stated:
” I guess that’s how many people took advantage of her.”
Well, that’s the end of the story. I got ideas of various books and movies including anime notably Revolutionary Girl Utena.
I went to Victoria’s Secret site and saw some ballerina shows on a model posing for jeans so I guess the idea of flatness came from there.
Hope you like the weird tale
I was reading about a nineteen year old boy who had committed suicide, live. The article was posted on:
I had never known that this subculture of suicides committed online existed. I have heard of some cases but I have not heard of a ‘live’ case before.
I felt really odd. The nature of suicide has always made me question it.
Religion forbids it, cultures can say it is illogical yet some sources find it honorable and acceptable. Though, personally, I really do not find it honorable and acceptable. It really isn’t a case of religion or culture that makes me adhere to this principle though religion and culture may influence me they aren’t really the whole progenitors to my perspective.
I just know that over 90% of people has or still have comtemplated suicide in their own ways; it is always there in my minds to some degree but…it really isn’t prevalent. To say thoughts alone is a person is basically only adhering that anatomy completes man and that is his/her only dimension or even if we hold gender and intelligence alone for being the sole qualities of a person we would be committing a grave mistake.
As Eckhart Tolle said in his book The Power Of Now (which I only read slightly. Yet, it had a great impact from its beginning pages) is that we are not always our minds. To say that we are would be to disqualify our individuality. Naturally, many people think thoughts at times that do not at all relate to who they are; so, we have that “Why did I think that?” syndrome reoccurring within us all the time.
Now, I’m not going to say suicide is just because in my own opinion it is not.
What really made me sad was that Abraham K. Biggs, the nineteen year old boy who committed suicide, was facing the same things I was facing or let’s say facing similar things.
I’m not saying I fully understand his sorrows and worries or that his woes are identical to mine because though they might be similar, they are not same in that sense.
I feel so much like a failure at times that I wish to just disappear and melt away. Or as Faustus said become like drops and become part of one homogeneous ocean. The boys I like NEVER like me back. I wanna be an artist but I cannot draw (I feel I need to try). I feel angry at God at times for putting me in a situation where I cannot draw but wish to be a manga artist: You know what, that feels frustrating as hell!
But then again…there’s that whole unmeasured universe out there. As Sydney Sheldon’s father advised him when he wished to commit suicide that tomorrow is still there to be explored…
But people can most definitely say, ” I’m not living the best of life and the next day feels trapped in a loop of worthlessness, wastefulness and nothingness.” yet, I believe that it won’t always be in that mode of depression and gloom.
I know comparatively to other people my life is a monotonous hell. I am my parents’ only daughter and I live in Bangladesh, which is the worst country to live in MANY a times, so, they can’t help but be over-protective of me. I cannot adhere to the feminine subculture of my country. People think I’m noisy, stupid, arrogant, vain and a whole plethora of things that are SO NOT ME. Everyone, including myself, believe I fit stereotypical masculine than feminine. People exclude me accordingly and include me accordingly; I’m at the mercy of their tastes. I’m to be ridiculed, avoided from the youth even in my own university. The teachers like me and they become friends of mine rather than my own age-group. At times these things are not reassuring.
I feel that I can try; I think I can become a manga artist if I persevere enough. I just know I need confidence to do it. Because it is important to know that natural talent is never enough to create the artist, we are not prophets or angels, so even with talent alone someone cannot always reach that pinnacle which he or she yearns to reach. Practice and Knowledge completes the basic trinity of the things we need to succeed.
I know that these thoughts I am saying may seem horrendously naive yet many people do strive and attain their dreams, so, in the design of life the guarantee of success has no perfect methodologies.
I just felt bad when I read Abraham’s suicide note. I just think that people around him didn’t realize he was unhappy. I know, sometimes it’s even hard to explain to your dear ones why you are distressed because either it escapes your own perceptions or they feel that it’s just transitory.
The mind is an organic pandora’s box…there is hope.
The similarities that I have with Abraham K. Biggs made me odd and upset. I wish I knew him and I was able to talk to him. Maybe…I know…I just wished there was another way.
For all the friends and family of Abraham K. Biggs I’m sorry for your loss
God Almighty will surely take care of his soul