Direktlänk till inlägg 5 november 2010

"The Key, The Way" part1 (forts. på ´20 years´)

Av Christian - 5 november 2010 16:51

As i said in my earlier notes, it has as of today been twenty years. Twenty long years of fear, paranoia and though suppressed by endless effort... a certain apprehension.

I know in my bones that but for a miracle I will end up just like him; a mindless wreck left to fester in his in his own self-made hell, but still. Still there is the undeniable fact that before his end, he knew. He knew that what we call reality is but an infinitesmal part of the Universe, and that the "god" of the christian world is nothing but a newborn baby, mewling in impotent  rage towards beings far older, far greater... and far more terrible.

And I do not think that his knowledge and his growing madness was a coincidence, far from it. There are, as the writers of former generations told us, things that Man were not meant to know, and to ignore such warnings is to invite mind-rending terrors from dimensions so strange, so utterly alien that our frail senses cannot hope to embrace it all without paying a most dreadful price.

Yet, a small part of me sees beyond the atrocities my uncle indulged in to get his knowledge, and the horrors visited on him in return, and that small part longs to experience that utmost knowledge of what lies beyond the boundaries of humanity, beyond the very limits of Time and Space...endless, eternal, chaotic and beautiful.

The sound of pipes played by a piper unseen, unfathomable, burning at the center of a Universe in the grip of powers the likes of which we can just barely begin to imagine. The Demon Sultan on his throne of madness, the Dark Pharao, the Woodland  Mother of  Thousand Young, and the One we pray will remain asleep; the Dreamer Beneath the Waves. Ia! May He sleep forevermore!

Even as i pen down these thoughts I feel the first tendrils of madness creeping into my mind, a first down-payment for the secrets I stole from the books he bequethed to me, for the knowledge he hinted at long before he became in full the black stain on our family that he is considered now, the small thruths he gave me, hidden in the shape of bedtime stories and holiday reminescing, far below the radar of my mothers attention.

As I look back at it now, as a man approaching his middle age, I can see clearly that he was preparing me for an inheritance vaster than the books and scrolls that I did recieve, and I can only pray to these most ancient of Gods that I manage to unite the pices of this fragmented puzzle before the madness grows enough to make the knowledge unusuable.

Then again, maybe the madness in it self is indeed the very key that unlocks the final door? Not the Key nor the Silver Gate that Carter found, but a key to the doors of perception and sanity, like unto the sword that slashed the gordian knot in half and freed the way... and what a way to travel it would be! Free from the limits of the human mind, free from the rigidity of mankinds petty morals, free at last from the border of the real!

No, I must not allow myself to take such an easy way out. The loss of my mind is the price I swore to myself that I would pay, and I WILL NOT break that word - not only would it be betraying my own believes, but there is the possibility of some...thing having heard the oath I took and decided to keep me to it. And if there is even a single grain of truth in the stories of old, that would be a very bad thing indeed.

I will suffer the consequences of my actions, knowing full well that madness or not, I am surely damned.


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