Maybe chaos needs an escape. Maybe it is a cosmic coincidence. What is "it"? Chaos? Would any other answer make sense? What do you define as "real"? Do others share that belief? If not, then why? If so, then why? Does it matter to you? Does it matter at all? And you thought it was just that simple, didn't you? Give me your belated, manufactured truths. Give me your vested interests and fantastic conflicts. Give me your vision; your perspective. Revel in your pain, the proof of life. Seer that bliss into your skin. Remind yourself of your sanity. Question it. Conventionalize it, then discard it. You don't see it, do you? You don't see it behind you. Of course you don't. Soundless. Lifeless. Lightless. It never touches you. It never interacts with you. It has no interest in your frailty. Why would it? You are only human; pitifully clawing at morality as if to save a soul long since damned by ecstasy. That was your first mistake. You thought you were important. It would probably laugh if it could muster the awareness to emote. You can't see the truth because it is always behind you, just out of view. You can't see it. How could you? So young. So innocent. It is almost comical how small you are. It is so easy to see, that lurching mass so eager to take you. It is so easy to see, and yet you stumble through life keeping it at a distance. It is right there, loyal to the very end, even as you neglect it. You once looked it in the eye. Just once. It was horrifying. Almost as if the grotesque visage was designed to be your personal nightmare. The image is in your mind, even as you instinctively turn away from the horror. You poor, small thing. Your mind cannot handle the sight of such brutality. You poor, pitiful thing. You've lost it. You've retained your insanity at such a cost. Now, you can't even remember what you saw. But it is still there - loyal to a fault. Your mind refuses to remember that horrific image, but that fearful instinct remains. You feel it there. Behind you. Watching you. Waiting for you. Your mind has forgotten, but your body remembers. Don't turn around. Don't turn around or you'll see that...thing again. You can't. You can't see that thing again. Not now. Your mind has forgotten, but you know. You know that the next time you see it, it will greet you with death.
