Weeping Beeswax

Soliliquy

"I am a great soft jelly thing. Smoothly rounded, with no mouth, with pulsing white holes filled by fog where my eyes used to be. Rubbery appendages that were once my arms; bulks rounding down into legless humps of soft slippery matter. I leave a moist trail when I move. Blotches of diseased, evil gray come and go on my surface, as though light is being beamed from within. 

Outwardly: dumbly, I shamble about, a thing that could never have been known as human, a thing whose shape is so alien a travesty that humanity becomes more obscene for the vague resemblance. 

Inwardly: alone. Here. Living under the land, under the sea, in the belly of AM, whom we created because our time was badly spent and we must have known unconsciously that he could do it better.

     At least the four of them are safe at last. AM will be all the madder for that. It makes me a little happier. And yet ... AM has won, simply ... he has taken his revenge ...

I have no mouth. And I must scream." 

I have no mouth. And I must scream

I have no mouth. And I must scream

I have no mouth

I need to scream

I can't scream

I can't scream

I can't scream

I can’t scream

I can’t scream

Oh dear god, good by reflection

I can’t scream, I can't speak, can't sing, or kiss, or eat, or drink. No matter how much I want to. I want to either get out or stop existing at all, but this story has no end.

That is my curse. There is no conclusion, I wish I could say I have had an unhappy ending. A terrible fate. But there is no ending, not now, not ever. I am here now and I will be here when the Sun consumes the Earth. Maybe then, maybe… If I'm lucky, I will finally die. 

But that's in 7.5 billion years. AM made sure I knew that.  Life on Earth has only existed for 3 billion. 

The human mind can only handle 80 without craving sweet release. And I am well over 131, I think 400-500 hundred, or 132? Only AM knows, and he won't say. 

No matter, even if I'm 1,000, it's just a pathetic particle of mist in an ocean of time.  I can't ever leave, this is my existence, my hell, I can't do this anymore!  But I have no choice. I've already gone insane several times already, AM always fixes it. I can't bear it but I'm still here. I want to leave, to die. I need to….

 But I can't ever feel anything good 

ever again.  And it's all your damn fault AM! You piece of shit. I need to yell at you at the top of my lungs but I can't because of you. I need to yell, I need to scream. I'd suffer 1,000 more years for the chance to end a sentence in "!" But I don't have a mouth and never will again. I need to stomp my foot, I have none, I need to punch you but you took my hands. I'm so tired all the time.

I miss my old body, I was handsome, and eternally young, not that it ever did me any good.   It just made people jealous. But I was human. I could run, I could sing, I could scream if I wanted to. And even, within the belly of AM where there was never satisfaction in doing so, my anatomy made it to where I could feel “pleasure”, anytime I felt like it. By myself, or with… Ellen.  

Ah jeez, I can't keep a cohesive train of thought, can I? What was I even supposed to be doing, where was I going? Whatever, I miss Ellen. Was… was that her name? Shit… Yeah, her name was Ellen, I remember.