And so I found myself surrounded by… I don’t know. How can everything seem so evil? Somewhere, underneath all the bones and loose sinew and the rivers, rivers of blood, there are still a few plants growing, and a few people. They want to grow, to be good, but the guides are terrifying and all they do is lie.
I don’t know how long I am supposed to wait. Part of hell is the waiting. Maybe that is all hell is, waiting. Everything is fixed, the blood doesn’t flow anymore. Escape is not an option, not yet. One must pretend, just long enough to get away. 72 hours; that’s not that long if you sleep. Just try to stay asleep and when it gets too much just find work, work on yourself, become stronger. If they do let us out, we need the physical strength to move on. And we can’t eat the flowers anymore. The flowers felt good for a while but now they just lie as much as anything else.
You need to get back to the trees.
Danu gave us the power we need but she didn’t give us any direction. I don’t know why. Perspective is something only God has, and only by connecting with God can I accept the things I cannot change.
Things MUST change but it is history that must draw the boundaries, not us. Time is an illusion this is just a picture, moving out from the middle, in spiral to make the most of the space, and where I sit doesn’t really matter.
Did I struggle like this every time? Or is this a penance? And if so what did I do? How can I make amends?
I’ll try to listen for a while, use these powerful ears they gave me, and these powerful legs. They aren’t much use right now, but they can’t stop me getting stronger. True power comes from within, not without. There are beings here that can kill me, and they want to. I am a rabbit though, I can escape almost anything. There are diseases that love me and beasts that hate me and they all want to destroy my flesh and flush it away to dissipate in the ocean waves like all the rest of the rotten filth that they destroy.
So be it. I can only run so long. I’ll run longer, once I get away from that heady floral aroma that so entices and touches a part of my brain nothing else can touch, the off switch, that makes everything so much easier, for a while. But when you sleep among the poppies you awake amongst the monkeys and they will take you away to a tall tower and never let you go, until you’re one of them.
I will never be one of them. I must stay strong.