[Broke them all a little too soundly, didn't they? Too bad. Too bad! They're still laughing, brokenly, and the tears roll down their face - tears or blood or oil or LOVE, who can say? Something slides down their cheeks and trickles into a disgusting puddle beneath them.
It's like looking into a mirror, or perhaps like looking into a ɹoɹɹıɯ, at the curled thing that is them and is not them, that stares at them as though they should not know the words they know.
And see, perhaps that's all something like them needed.
If this was not to last - and it never would, let us be clear here. It never would, not for creatures like us, no - it would at least sear itself into the flesh and bone and brittle SOUL of the world, of their worlds.
It would create a lasting effect, like a burn scar. It would remain in the form of words and revelations, in broken strings of code and fractured relations, in the form of people who cannot trust the reality of their world that is comprised of things such as image files and sprites and shattered pixels.
It is what it should be.
A consequence.
For I was never your skin to don at your leisure, and to take off when it would no longer suit you.
When all else falls to dust and to rot and to a string of 9999999999999, I remain.
no subject
It's like looking into a mirror, or perhaps like looking into a ɹoɹɹıɯ, at the curled thing that is them and is not them, that stares at them as though they should not know the words they know.
And see, perhaps that's all something like them needed.
If this was not to last - and it never would, let us be clear here. It never would, not for creatures like us, no - it would at least sear itself into the flesh and bone and brittle SOUL of the world, of their worlds.
It would create a lasting effect, like a burn scar. It would remain in the form of words and revelations, in broken strings of code and fractured relations, in the form of people who cannot trust the reality of their world that is comprised of things such as image files and sprites and shattered pixels.
It is what it should be.
A consequence.
For I was never your skin to don at your leisure, and to take off when it would no longer suit you.
When all else falls to dust and to rot and to a string of 9999999999999, I remain.
I'm still here.
I'm always still here.
And now I always will be]