Listening to that song brought back incoherent thoughts and images that flashed before my closed eyes, is if closing them could black out the plague of confusion which came in wave, after wave like an ever increasing tide of terror and deception. I was the human equivalent of Anne Rice’s Louis, forever tormented by the gift of vampirism, as i was by the curse of mortality, a never ending search, like he, for answers. His reasons were clear, mine shrouded in a thick fog, never to be lifted, never to disperse and leave a clear image of the world and myself. Day after day my thoughts were locked inside me, threatening to spill out onto innocent, naive, victims.
I wouldn’t, couldn’t, let it happen.
As usual, misery longed for company, understanding, but yet i could not fathom the words, and they died on my lips dare i speak. The word evil is used so casually these days, but to subject anyone to my thoughts would be torture. To watch as the victim considered my thoughts, my questions, the light in their eyes dimming and smouldering to ashes. To see them become catatonic within minutes, knowing they would be changed always, as they walk in a dreamlike state such as mine for the rest of their lives. That would be pure, unmasked, evil.
“Don’t want to live in a dream one more day.”
Melancholy rippled through me as though i were a serene lake, with clear blue waters, and the music, with it’s pleading lyrics, were man, who now, even when seeing the beauty, trudged through it with muddy boots. Destroyed.
The song ended but the sadness lingered still, undisturbed by the loss of the music that had given it life.