This is the start of an idea I had for a book. See what you think.
Beginnings
Dearest reader, I implore you with all that is in me, please stop reading. For you have no idea of what is waiting in the pages ahead. My words, I am sure, ring as melodramatic in your ears. To be truthful, you would not be the first to ascribe such attributes to my meager scratchings. And yet, how can I write any other way? Is it not an extension of who I am? Can I pretend to be something other that what I am? Oh, I have certainly pursued that particular avenue of folly. How often have I strongly desired to be other than what I am? More times than I can number, assuredly. I must reference the all-wise Solomon that this, as in all things, is simply vanity.
You have guessed it correctly by now, I am sure; I have very few friends. Perhaps that is as good of a reason as any to why things unfolded, nay, unraveled the way they have.
Fool! Are you still reading? Do you think I jest? Do I sport with you? How can I accurately convey the urgency of my words! If there was some way you could hear the tone of my voice, see the panic in my blood-stained eyes, perhaps then you would be convinced. Perhaps then you would discard this parchment, or better yet, set it aflame. If there is any justice in the world, this will be the only copy ever made, and you, you alone can stop this before it starts.
Ah, what is the use? There is no way for me to know...yet... if you have continued to read or not. Have any eyes chanced to find these words? How, dear reader, did you happen across my accursed manuscript? Dost thou think that I wanted to write these words? Nay, nay, nay! A thousand times I deny it! Why would I want to perpetuate that which threatens so?
Again, I am sure you take me for a fool as so many have before your witless eyes found this page. Perhaps I am only writing for myself. Mayhaps these are just the ramblings of an idiot, writing for his own purposes. If only it could be so! But it can not be. He would not allow it.
Yes, I know you are reading these words even as I type them. Curse you! I don't care anymore! Kill me as you have threatened so many times. Empty promises to be sure.
Hmm. So sorry about that dear reader, you just can't understand, and what's more, I don't want you to! Yet I fear that I must offer some explanation or my sanity will be lightly esteemed. I could not be more aware of what I am about to tell you but somehow the reality of it still fills me with surprise and terror. You see, the sad truth is that I am bound to another. It is as hard to explain as it is for you to comprehend. Long ago I ...oh, what is the right word...became entangled...with another. Not emotionally, relationally or even physically; but were it so that the chains were based an such flimsy attachments! The bond is irrevocable, unbreakable. He is ...in me. He sees what I see, knows my every thought, comes just short of controlling me. I despise him for it, but in truth, it is my own fault. No, he is not a god or demon. He is a man, and yet so much more and certainly closer to demon than deity.
I also wish you to know that HE is the one coercing me to pen such a vile tale. For it is HIS tale and none other, although mine has become woven into it's filthy tapestry. Perhaps if you are obtuse enough to continue to read, you will see how I could never have known what was happening before it was far,far too late. Perchance I may even find some form of absolution in your eyes.
Understand dear, foolish reader, he can punish me. Any time. Anywhere. If I displease him, he does something, that causes me to prefer death above all else. How to explain the explosion of pain that thunders through my oversized skull? There are not words adequate... Dost thou think thou knowest pain? Thou art an amateur! Unskilled in what suffering truly is. But I know all too well. Forgive me if I start to rant at him. There are limits to what I can endure, even with all the experience the years of cruelty have deemed to teach me. He is a cruel despicable ...being.
NO, I don't care how you threaten me! You can't make me write these words! I am my own man and I can arrange and create the words that I want to say, not what YOU want me to say.
Ahem. Once again I have been proven wrong, by your strong and merciful hand. Please forgive me for my insistence on freedom of will and thought. Too long ago have we been bound, and by my own choice and words. Fool that I am.
In truth, dear reader, despite my chastisements (I mean well deserved punishment) I plead you to stop following my words with your eyes. Do not allow these words to penetrate your mind; for fear that you will be dragged into the story as I once was. There is still time for you to escape, to be sure. Maybe you are not the one. Most will read these words and think nothing of it. It will be just another story and you will discard it. Perhaps you may even enjoy it, if such twisted and depraved people actually still walk the Earth. But I know they do. For I am such a man.
Yes, I know. You think I'm mad. Perhaps I am. How can one determine their own madness? As a point of fact, nobody really thinks they are mad, just as no man believes that what HE believes is false. Yet assuredly, not all beliefs can be true. In point, some beliefs are false and some that think they are sane, quite simply, are not. Could I be such a one? Of this I have often thought, despite there being no possibility of a trusted answer. Is that not the way of the human mind? To ponder that which can not be answered? To endlessly ponder and question that which does not have an answer? Can not have an answer? For perhaps the answer would be far too terrifying for it to be true, which often makes it all the more so.
Well. It appears that you and I are along for the ride. You have made it this far, so perhaps you are fated to read this whole tome. I can only pray... I'm sorry again dear reader, but I can't believe I just wrote that! Pray! Me! My what an amusing thought.
Yes, yes, I can hear your laughter. We do not need the link for me to know you are laughing at me. How often have I heard that mocking sound ringing in my ears at the slightest mistake or tremor in my voice? That grating noise that stretches my nerves thin? I am only glad that there is not a way, currently, for me to hear the audible guffaws.
Once again I must beg your forgiveness, my dearest of readers. I digress by talking to HIM. And yet I must address him when he speaks to me, surely you must realize that? But how could you? Your folly once again rears its ugly face, although in truth it is no match for mine! Hah!
Reader, dear, dear reader, please know that this is not my fault. As I have already stated numerous times... Am I being a bore? Am I repeating myself too often? Oh how I DO hate a bore...I do not want to write these words. Do you see? Whatever happens isn't my fault! If you are the one, the one he intends to read these words, what could I have done to prevent it? What could I have done to stop his nefarious plans? I am nothing but a reed in a hurricane. I have to obey. The consequences are... never mind. You don't want to be bothered by such things. And if I were to speak even half the truth of what would lay in wait for me... He does not suffer the rebellious lightly. If I even began to describe how he expresses his fury, sleep would elude you for many nights, nay weeks, for those of you with weak minds and hearts.
The story must be told. Perhaps it is inevitable. What you read will not be entirely original. You will recognize parts of it as you faintly hear melodies present in other songs. What will be done will be done. Who am I to stand in the way of fate? But how can I absolve myself of my role that I most assuredly play? My hands certainly will not be declared clean, for my role is a chief one.
I have warned you though, haven't I? I told you over and over in this beginning of beginnings to stay away. Nobody can deny that fact. Perhaps I will be partially absolved from this sin; from my participation in his quest. In truth, I can not believe he is allowing me to write what I have. The warnings... the honesty of his intentions...perhaps his hold is weakening? My heart leaps at the thought! Could it be??? Are you no longer watching? As I wrote that, nothing happened!! Hello? This can not be!
Dear reader, fret not! My story will NOT be told! The great tyrant, the hater of men, the destroyer of worlds is... gone? Surely he would not allow me to be so bold with my words! He is far too cruel of a master to allow such freedom! Perhaps I am free?!? How could this be? It is too sweet to be true. I can almost begin to experience the sweet savor of freedom on my tongue. I was a fool to ever think you could always bind me to your will! You are not as powerful as you thought, were you? You are nothing more than an egotistical boaster! You are a fool! If I could write for years I could never begin to tap into the depths of contempt I have for you! Hah! He is gone! Perhaps his rule is somehow over! Rejoice with me dear readerrrrrr
Perhaps I was wrong. You know that was all in jest, correct almighty one? The reader always needs a pinch of levity, don't you think? No, you don't have to prove the link still exists. Yes, you are very clever. Making me think you were gone, absent, to test my loyalty. Yes, I admit I failed your test. It will be eons before I try that again. I mean, your excellency, that I will NEVER try that again. My words are my bond, as always. They are TOO worth more than the excrement of a sow! You can certainly torture me as you do, but you don't have to insult me. I do have feelings.
Ah, back you dear reader. Forgive my arguing with a voice that you can not hear. Welcome to my nightmare. Read the story ahead with my own caution. The words must be attached to the page as surely as sparks fly upward to the heavens. What happens after can not be placed at my feet. You have been warned.
No comments:
Post a Comment