The following is general musing in the first person prospective of a character of mine, talking about absolutely nothing at random intervals, to help better establish the character in my head. Though, I will admit, I always feel weird writing a female character from the first person prospective.
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Let me tell you, they will replace themselves one day. No, I told you this, I screamed it at you! I told you everything, I wanted to make it clear, but you weren’t listening to me.
I screamed for your name, but all I heard was my echo.
When I touched down this planet screamed.
When you got back they all cheered.
I bled silver and white, I cried tears that made mountains crumble. I couldn’t recall your name.
Replaced by their children, replaced by their machines, replaced by their greed. The eternal, it exists through iteration.
I know their dirty secret. They built a god in the center of everything.
Planet with an iron core, it spins around a pointlessly dull sun. A gas giant is nearby, a gravity well exists within it that has swallowed other celestial objects. But not me… not you.
Man with sandals and one eye, he showed me your face in a dream I had, sold it to me for the sake of having something to cherish as I wandered in desolation.
Keep speaking to me, whisper in my dreams, be it truths or lies, I want to hear that voice.
I’m hated here, because I’m not human. My eyes have no pupils, they focus without emotion. My skin cracks and reveals runic characters settled on a frame of divinity. They want me here for mercy, but when they throw objects at me, they’re really whispering for punishment.
I saw the dead man, he smiled, and he spoke in your voice.
I saw the dead child, he cried for his mother, she died in his arms, and with that death, he was the last human set to rot in this world.
The dust settled and they acted shocked, like they could slaughter each other forever, and suffer no consequence.
When I set foot on forever, it yelled at me.
When you set foot in death, it rejected you.
When I finally worked up the nerve to confess myself to you… you where just a corpse, sitting in the Sky, mocking me.
You told me about your garden. Why can’t I visit it?
People here have no direction, no sense of life, causality, death. They remember one thing, and dwell on it forever.
I’ve tried to kill myself a million times, just to be with you once more. Each time I fail. I tore all my skin away, and let my body rot in the sun, but it all came back, washed into me like the tide. I tore my eyes out, devoured them and prayed the fuel that powered them would rip at my core, but they just went back to their sockets. I’ve set fire to entire cities, but the heat never graces my skin.
They don’t think about the loss, but they swim within it.
I don’t think about the loss, only the regret.
You don’t think about anything.
You’re not here…
I’m talking to myself…
When I finally kissed you, nothing remained but air. When I finally wept for you… nothing of me remained but destruction.
I’m not a being of mercy… I’m a being of accountability.
Tags: Eternal Engine, Idea
