brief report on The Conversation

This isn't a real story, just the events as I remember them...

It was years ago, we were sitting in her room talking about all the fascinating information i had come across in my travels to the city down south. Of the keenest interest was what i had acquired thru the ex, the names of three spirits(A great warrior a mage and a strategist), remnants of fascinating characters from times long passed. i had, with little thought to the consequences, introduced two people to each other who were supposedly connected. kirri was telling me amazing things about her, and i had no choice but to believe it at the time. like who she used to be(this was hard to get out of him) he simply wanted to glorify the fact that he'd never fucked her but he killed her in a rage, implicating another(me) in the crime of stealing her innocence (repeatedly, apparently) he mentioned details of her death, like the weapon used and how strong he would had to have been to pull it off(how do you break a sword blade in half jam the dull end in her forehead clear through the skullplate), he also mentioned the punishment for the crime, which was unpleasant and involved a lot of bugs(scarabs) in a small room with no light. when i spoke to the daughter(isiza) weeks later, she told the same story, focusing more instead on the affair itself, how bored she had been without her almost husband's touch, or total lack of. they couldn't be physical because the marraige ceremony had never been performed, as the two gods had never been able to agree on a moon to marry under. The stories brought to light something important: one possible reason as to why such a powerful civilization had been brought to ruin. corruption from the inside seemed to be the culprit. the daughters were chosen based on appearance alone, with no basis in moral character or spirituality. this one had been especially savage, murdering people at a whim(point at him or her and give the word they died on the spot), and growing quite mad with her newfound power. she dwelled a lot on a servant girl, a young thing of maybe six or seven who took care of her in some frivolous aspect related to appearance. she seemed almost entranced by this girls' fragile innocence, her youth and beauty. she was also obsessed with her appearance, and cared little for the body she inhabited. she would never let me touch her claiming i was too far below her, everyone was. we spoke at length of the power she held, the cruelty it had given birth to, she seemed to delight in being able to cause pain to others, with no fear of consequence or retribution. Upon reflection of that evening's events, it is difficult to sort out whether i spoke to a true former daughter, or a manifestation of this innocent young woman's malicious and insatiable dark half. The truth is more than likely a combination of the two ideas, the vivid memories of this ugly past taking root and growing in a sort of rebirth. In the years since that i have known her, certain actions and developed attitudes have helped to heal this rift between the two possible sides of the girl, to allow those ancient memories to sleep once again without any disturbance or need to reawaken.

isolation a

Transition phase in progress please stand by until new coordinates recieved/relocation process 66% complete at least/simple bassheavy beats pulsing through what remains of my skull tearing through this expensive upholstery and leaving only bleeding wreckage/this is the exercise indulge daily indulge hourly every moment if you can spill forth tiny nuggets of fabricated wisdom and scatter them throughout the landscape don't bother oneself with fooish bullshit like rules and regulations and laws and what's right and what's wrong these are arbitrary at best absolutely ludicrous at worst/soon I'll be somewhere else a whole new world for me to abuse and rip to shreds I can do it if anyone can can anyone do it have I been disillusioned have I been misled what is the nature of this crime that has been committed in my name?!#)(/////If you listen to dumb noise for long enough maybe you go dumb too who knows (perhaps this ugly virus of a corroding mind that spreads throughout my cranium is)

fatal infectious contagious falsified imagined impossible

maybe i'm not actually real and everything i experience in the midst of these long nights is nothing more than the darkness giving me a long embrace a tender kiss to open up a hole in my defenses to let the impossible in to blur that line between what is and what is not

the mind is not an island on which any man should be stranded