Who set the standards?!

He was working his inches when it all took place.  No, perhaps that isn’t quite right.  

There was far too much time searching through those old books and pondering over clandestine meetings which took place at dawn.  There was a speech, a rally and then people were screaming for a monster.  Someone previously bathed in an otherworldly placental pond emerged from the group.  The creature truly walks among us now, a fact which makes him laugh so hard.  

Things are moving exactly as planned and very soon it will be far too late to turn back the clock.  A crisis is just over the horizon and the sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach is the foreknowledge of the pending blackening of the sky.  How is he able to hide the horns?  How is he able to hide the horns?!  

You’ve made your home inside a dancehall.  We must admit the lighting is exquisite but everyone who comes up to you is wearing a mask.  This is all false, this is all just pretend.  Once the tears dry and our vision is clear we can face the harsh reality of things.  There is an inherent hopelessness in life.  Some people have made pacts to help them accept this.  When you are inside that dancehall they cannot touch you.  But even in that moment of safety you are so drained and with nothing to offer anyone.  

Do you recall those two women you met so long ago; one novice and one experienced?  The novice painted such lovely portraits.  There was a gallery of twelve different eyes, the irises glinted and each had a needle headed toward them.  She made the blood drip from the canvas.  

She had a particular way of walking up a spiral staircase and a propensity of abuse that suggested a fierce yet insecure core.  She was something but nothing at all in comparison to the experienced one.  That was the individual who had complete control at all times.  She beckoned inside your mind and you consistently returned to the temple, begging to hear her voice.  Once, you saw her in the middle of a field where no one should have been.  She had a baby in her arms.  What was the nature of that encounter?  You seem to have blocked it from your mind.  Was the sky on fire?

The novice explained to you how to summon her if you so desired.  But desire was far too weak a word for what lurked inside you, correct?  You would have given anything.  Your life was far too weak an offering and you knew this all too well.  But she told you how.  She had a book with her and what wasn’t in the book she had already committed to memory and she told you what to say and when to say it and what to have on hand.  Her words came with a warning but you were so consumed by obsession there was no chance of heeding it.  Oh please no, did you actually go through with it?  You did, you saw her, it, they were there inside your room.  Others saw the red lights flashing from your window even though you had the curtains pulled tight.  What happened to you afterward?  

He is still looking for the one that catches, all the while wishing to dance with the one’s mother.  He’s skipping from place to place and asking as many of those in charge as possible.  He will likely keep asking until he receives the “right” answer.  He can see the two of them above everything, spinning.  

They placed him inside a fleshy suit.  His teeth became someone else’s teeth and he saw things through the fresh eyes of a traveler.  When he emerged his hair was matted to his head with viscous fluids.  

I’m inside a neon jungle and they can see into my mind.  I think I am going to surrender.  I do not know where they will send me.  

You are flung in every direction and that is a direct result of the choices and deals which you have made.  We must always ask for permission because there are certain things we were never supposed to know.  I’m under a great deal of stress right now and it occurs to me that I keep seeing the same shadows in the same places.  There is some sort of outside intelligence controlling everything and playing with us and from this was sent the messenger.  After night fell and the bodies were entwined it was impossible to tell the difference between the helpless slaves of old and the new monsters seeking pleasure.  

He keeps having this horrible dream that he is being born.  This was written in stone somewhere.  

That moment of panic is sheer delight, sheer being the operative word.  That sweet divinity comes from the total dominance.  We are entangled by hatred.  These systems no longer make any sense.  The moment where it is the most difficult to breathe is always the very best.  This is cacophonic.  Nothing adult is happening anymore.  We are diseased vermin.  This poison being disseminated has my name all over it.  

Almost no one can understand.  There are no sudden meetings.  There is no such thing as that one night.  Whatever you think you experienced or found in such a short span of time was nothing more than a well lubricated lie.  

He is outside somewhere wandering through black woods.  There has been far too much toying with temptation.  Very soon her sweet voice is going to utter the word “torture” and the reality is going to begin.  He is going to swiftly regret his cavalier attitude and all that he took for granted.  Oh no, there truly is no hope left.  Let us place are bets.  

The number 13 is appearing quite frequently now.  This is all just a child’s delusion.  We are still playing dress up and foolishly believing we can make a difference.   We are cowering in the corner there and believe we are safe in the dark.  True, it offers a momentary reprieve and it is so nice not to be seen.  But there are still hands reaching out for us, grabbing at our most shameful parts and then come the gaping mouths, ceaselessly screaming in pain and ecstasy.

At that pivotal and always anticipated climactic moment he was shocked to find his seed take the form of a glistening spurt of blood.  Take it from me man, that shit don’t come out!