Who is the Antichrist, other than the one who does not have the capacity, or with the preference, to reject compassion. If the blue skies are constant, or the grey skies are without a small gap where a ray can escape, it is exactly the same. A thing in excess is toxic. It will ravage a person’s most treasured virtues. Every thought occupying my mind, standing solemn and uniform, is preparing to spill out. Am I kind sometimes, or do I only want to be? Perhaps, I am equally a masochist and a sadist. As if the illusion of balance makes it much better.
I learn everyone’s name. My spells are quick to take effect, and designed to hurt. The demons guide me, even as I consider there are none. It is me, and has always been, who is the demon. Then, what is this need to fold into someone, to hold them, to clear away all of their low spots. The desire to be good and to be evil, they wage their own wars in my head.
For most of my life, I was disconnected from the ability to experience anger. One day, I woke up, and it was as if, not only did I feel my own rage, but the world’s. I took up its suffering, without the ability to stop this process.
I have these nightmares in which I take a vacation, and fall asleep through it. I wake up just as it is time to leave. And I know, that this is not a frightening dream where I missed it all, but my very life.