nihilism.

latibule invaded.

i don't like to label myself.

i want to be something ineffable; an existence nobody can explain. an existence impossible to comprehend. i wish to live in a constant state of mystique. i hope i am forgotten, reminisced of by old souls as a simple phenomenon, something that existed for a miniscule amount of time, then disappeared without a trace. 

i strive to be a concept. but, for now, i hide. i hide deep within these trenches, wishing i will never be found. wishing to resurface when it is time.

the constant pressure of adam's ale has become numb to me. i don't feel anymore. barnacles grow and flourish in the crevices and creases of my skin. the constant visitation of famished sea creatures has made bone prominent in certain areas. i don't wish to move. i am one with these shallow waters.

i am a corpse. well, i should be. however, this curse of mine halts my demise.

what was his name? that vapid man, apertures carmine and ever-so-bright vermillion. pupils that of a canine on end, except i doubt he has an end. eternal, he was, he is, and will be. above other existences, at his utter zenith.

to me, he is but a mortal. a mortal with the reptilian gift of invigoration-with the twist of the process being dozens of times more sprightly. nothing truly lives forever. the world is far beyond us. far beyond what comprehension can give. you can only summarize the conceptual existence of the universe, because there is so much in it that you'd rather not overexert yourself attempting to get more than a cursory understanding.

i want to be just like that, full of conspiracy.

but, for now, here i lay, deep within these very waters. 

if i was still a homo sapien, my skin would shrivel. my fingertips would go pruney. my encasing layer would have gone tender and melted off. but, it hasn't. because the blood of that man i leeched off of in desperation courses through my weak, brittle veins. my arteries pump it throughout the body lazily, at a much slower pace than before. everything is slower underwater. i love being submerged. i have many, many desires. and yet, here i am, wanting to be nothing less than a sitting stone.

this is my haven.

however, my rest has been disrupted,

by the calloused hand grasping my pale wrists, pulling me out of where i so desperately wanted to stay until biodegradation inevitably took place.

 my latibule has been invaded.

.