charons order

the sweetness of existence.

☆

it pleases me to witness the downfall of such gullible creatures, temptation fogging the brain and preventing any attempt at hesitance one may wish for. according to the past and present, i have seen many fall into the hands of something darker with singular whispers, concocted of satin and the finest of jewels, whatever their tiny bodies may long for. life is too easy, yet such a hindrance, i am tired of the futile nature of my own persuasions, as i am with the outcome. as successful as drawing those in turns out, sticking with their little formulas and plans to smother and crush every single thing that has ever claimed to be a nuisance to their existence, it never goes as intended. not until now anyways.

up until now, i have managed to drag in whatever i may have a wisp of a thought about, tinging the surroundings with a heavy black and the threads of fate herself, even claiming a whole kingdom as my possession in such a casual manner. yet despite all of this, tampering with anything remotely living is impossible without some interference from the depths of insanity, theres always something that hints at them to return to their regular life, cherishing commonplace goods or quick signs of affection from anyone nearby in order to escape the clutches manipulating them. regardless of all the power granted, they are still not in control, no? what isnt easy to comprehend about this.

funnily enough, it didnt even need word from a higher power. no pity, egotism approval, gifts, nothing could lead it towards me for it had already been intruiged to begin with, a mutual agreement on something. the deals and minor amounts of flirting between the two of us caused refraining to communicate with others, only needing eachother for survival. what was love exactly, i have always asked, a warm feeling internally, the sudden cold grasp to the floor or a need to beg and pray. whatever it was, this was absolutely something any would indulge, only desperation pushing you on.

it has always claimed i am its saint, for it is the apostle spreading hasty messages. it has always claimed i am the every spirit within its form, it being a feeble vessel. it has always claimed we are the entirety of this worlds perfection, for it created something i could never deny.  it has always claimed there was a similar sense of hatred we both contained, for it longs for companionship.
it needs me.

... it needs me?

the more i attempt to gather the muddled thoughts it had forced upon me, the more that is dropped. no efforts alone could possibly allow me to pick everything up, as would it trying to piece everything within me together itself be inhumanly difficult. something, anything, had to be changed and the two of us had to have made an agreement otherwise one would fall and weep from the struggle. i cared more than it could fathom, as did it feel the same way.

we are the same, arent we charon.
i could choose to convince it that all existence comes down to us, each divine figure, painting and statue holding nothing against such importance it had, no burdens thrust upon its shoulders and no need to drink its way out, however it would be truly pointless. pointless as it already agreed with the matter i wished to bring up to it, that ideal finding its way into regular speech and conversations we shared whether that be within the body or out. fellow mortals shall view this endeavour as the true nature of art and nothing else, something to gaze at and remain in awe for days to weeks to months, trying to recover from what they see. witness upon witness, we shall strike fear and amazement into the hearts of many, whether or not it does the same to you. the time is perfect, the place is perfect, the victim is perfect, we are perfect. dont you understand that already?

it never fails to baffle me how the failures and stupidity of adoration has finally made its way into my own heart, no matter how much of it has frozen over from the cooling mist of the place i call a home, a living space at most. such a beautiful specimen i wish i could worship without feeling the slight bothering of humiliation at the back of my mind and throat. its hilarious. one may drag me through the deepest, most auburn side of hell and all feeling shall return no matter what. the passion is too intense for any to put out, now grown to be more than candle light, submitting whole worlds to their knees and each individual crevice and speck alight and disintegrating. truly a spectacle.

behold the new age, the new body.