I keep hearing it, resounding in my skull.  I know I love it.  Please me by falling victim to my wit.  Show the room who really holds control.

Even though I know that the ultimate power isn’t mine, the power I hold over you is plenty.  Wait!

Look.  See this?  I hold in my hand the last remaining relic of the empress of Nauru.  See how it still shines despite it’s age?  The hands that must have touched this, the moments that have passed it by, it truly is a marvel to behold.  Do you like it?

If you’re interested I’m sure we could work out some kind of trade as, you see, I have held this gem for many of my own moments, and I have gleaned all the gifts it was willing to offer beyond perhaps this final farewell.  I’ll give it to you for free, but I will ask a favor.

Bow to me.  That’s not much to ask in payment to such a rare find and equally scarce generosity.

Oh, and they always do.  Those who refuse just don’t seem to understand, and I don’t need fools to follow along.  Like little fish, I release them back into their temporary existence.  But there is no need to resist, as I have only good intentions.  I hold a vision in my mind’s eye like a sacred text.  I know how life should be, so give in and trust.

What?!  You refuse?  Then you are of no use to me.  Go, get out of my sight, so I can find someone who appreciates being used.  Why do you remain?

I made a decision long ago to never question my own motives, and I’ll never trust the wisdom of others, because there is no one near me in this regard.  I am the mighty.  I possess an intellect that would devour this world if only I had the foresight to grapple it down into submission earlier in life.  It is a marvel that you would never understand.  No one tries to understand, and you are just trying to confuse me, use me.  From my will all this was created, but you stand there with a self righteous glare, swearing that I am at fault.  You are mistaken, because I know.  I made you.  You are just a version of me, nothing more.  You are lesser, because I am the inventor, and you are the subject.

I see from your expression that you think me a liar.  Look at what you’ve become.  Do you think that anyone will praise you for your contributions?  Do you think that the world will recognize you despite the weakness you hold so proudly upon your sleeve?  You must let go of those childish dreams and follow me into a path of more stability.

Where did you go?  Why is everything getting so dark in here, so cold.  This isn’t my house.  These aren’t my things.  Where did my family go?  But I know things.  I see how it should be.  I know how it should be.  Just let it be.  Why can’t it just be the way I want?  I’ve thought this through.  Why doesn’t anyone trust me?  Did I cause this?

I’m not sorry.



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