I feel like I'm being hit in the head with a shovel every time my heart beats, but I just can't do it. He's there, waiting for me to close my eyes and He's there making sure I never do and I just want to sleep. I bought some pills from the pharmacy, but they're not working and I'm afraid if I take even a fraction more than the recommended dosage I'll suddenly find myself overdosing for no reason whatsoever on non-prescription drugs, if that's even possible.
I had so many plans. God I did. Whispered secrets and ancient artifacts and sacred temples. One of them had to be real. The Heel's not the only mystical object of ancient power they rave about, you know. There are other Trees and other creatures that stalk the night, not just His, and not just Him. The only problem is all of the Gods we could turn to are dead - all the real ones, anyway.
We've still got the Abrahamic faiths, but there's too many splintered cells of revolution and division to create anything of substance there. There might be a chance in Asia, but He's everywhere there. I don't know why, but He's a lot more subtle and a lot less predatory in the East, like we wronged Him somehow, so long ago. If the Noppera-bō and the Mujina are faces of His, with all the irony that statement contains, then there's no chance we'd survive with Him already waiting and so ingrained into the history and culture.
God the monitor is hurting my eyes. I think I have to stop. I'm going to try again, but it's not going to work. It feels like I might never sleep again. Such a small luxury and a grand irony that He'll never find me there again, at this rate at least. Oh how I wish we'd never dreamed like this, sometimes.
No comments:
Post a Comment