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Achilles
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Upon the cusp of madness, as always.
I catch a glimpse of the end once more. Of frailty and dishonour and my ultimate weakness. Like Muad'Dib riding out of a trough in time to know fear of the jihad, so too do I know the absolute futility.
The world will break, my art will forsake me, and I will continue on. Grey and dry and weightless, I will linger on past the point at which I matter. Better to go out in a blaze of glory. But those who think such things possible are just being short sighted.
But if I saw the chance. A way to avoid this slow slipping away, the gradual death thats begins even now, I would take it without blinking.
I have to find a way to make it all matter. I have to see a way to make it all more than just desperation and angst.
I'd step over to the dark side, I'd unleash the jihad, I'd take up the ring. I can understand the glassman's point- even creating evil makes the world better, in that it allows good. So pray that no power falls into my anti-messianic hands. For the universe will burn with my wrath before I fade away.
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