There's a tendency to speak of beginnings as new births, when they are closer to endings, to loss. I've claimed my game and still I'll name it, seeking a destruction of words, a breakdown to find meaning. Call it what it is, insanity or enlightenment, and I'll respond the same. I am a seeker of realities, movements in nature. Depraved absolutions are clung to in favor of the pure violations that were cast aside. A weakness of will, a gentleness only in murder; largely, in part, only for you. I will drag my stone uphill, I will tempt death and its sources, I will call my cleverness a curse in the end, damning in its execution, but now. Now. As things stand, I will only wait in my gilded hall, settle in silence to dance out my fate, and if you wish, if you want it, I will call you down again.
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There once was a king high in his hall, clever and deceitful, and willing to do much for his goals. Ages went by and the king began to die. When Thanatos came to collect his soul, the resourceful king trapped the god of death by his own design, and maintained his life for years after--as well as all others, for without death, mortals could not die. Eventually his crime was found out and death was freed by Ares, lord of war; the king's soul sent to Hades. Upon reaching it, the clever king contested with Persephone, wife of the lord of the dead, and told her that his wife had mangled the king's death rites, and sweet Persephone allowed him to return to perform the rituals himself. And there the king lived for a good many more years.
The gods came together under Persephone to drag the king down again, and thought up a punishment suited for his cleverness, one he couldn't think his way out of. Every day to struggle to roll a boulder uphill; every eve for it to tumble down again. This was Sisyphus's maddeningly thankless task, an eternity of useless efforts and unending frustration, a destruction of meaning and motivation.
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aison
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veiledallegory
project journal:toxic_reveries
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There once was a king high in his hall, clever and deceitful, and willing to do much for his goals. Ages went by and the king began to die. When Thanatos came to collect his soul, the resourceful king trapped the god of death by his own design, and maintained his life for years after--as well as all others, for without death, mortals could not die. Eventually his crime was found out and death was freed by Ares, lord of war; the king's soul sent to Hades. Upon reaching it, the clever king contested with Persephone, wife of the lord of the dead, and told her that his wife had mangled the king's death rites, and sweet Persephone allowed him to return to perform the rituals himself. And there the king lived for a good many more years.
The gods came together under Persephone to drag the king down again, and thought up a punishment suited for his cleverness, one he couldn't think his way out of. Every day to struggle to roll a boulder uphill; every eve for it to tumble down again. This was Sisyphus's maddeningly thankless task, an eternity of useless efforts and unending frustration, a destruction of meaning and motivation.
---
sister journal:
aisonwriting journal:
veiledallegoryproject journal:
toxic_reveriesshared writing journal:
evolutionaryRP List | flavors.me | plurk
