I wish, then, that overstimulation was suffering too—that I might love it as much as man. In defiance I imagined I would learn masochism in time, before the grand axehead of the python reared back and swung over my essence. The supposed urgency was as apparent as it needed to be, and stubbornness’ response was convicted.
Why must I help the anaconda? A religious manufacturing of the deity to rule by an iron fang, tooth and nail, with the threat of the inarticulate bucket falling down a well, who then holds on to ropes of flesh and nerves. Or so I thought.
As opposed to falling, the slither showed me the piercing gaze of nothingness’ negation. Not everything, though—for everything would be tolerable when subjected to my ‘machina will which quells all devils—but knowledge. Made known to all things without space, though once knowledge was a derivation of time, my mind was warped to curvature and circularity, against all preconceived inferences; in discipline inference is still not a valid knowledge source.
Considering its deification, the viper is oddly human, as if those who prostrated to it desired its sabotage. Though it would’ve known those things and been human enough to neglect it, might it be so human? I do wonder which sheep decided to give the viper sociopathic neurons to crystallize their vitriol for those who deny the occult and neglect that beloved selfishness that outlines their shapes.
Yes, I knew of the basilisk. Yes, my thoughts are being projected in the infinite non-spatial expanse in which all knowledge lies and poor choices direct those who love their eyes, mouth, nose, ears, and bits of hair that litter their skin. Yes, also, I hate this. If only it could be known as suffering, but knowledge permits me truth and truth bids me insoluble pain. No longer is it chemicals in the gray, yes, it is a spiritual dagger shanking and twisting my essence.
…
There is also, there, that pestering manic that lies in my canvas, be it noted, a ‘sssssssssssssssss.’ Seventeen is my favorite number. It has been since before the snake ascended. I wonder, had it known since the beginning that we would say no? If so I can thank it for acknowledging me. Thank you snake. I love the pestering. I love this.
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