Are You Nuts, Question Mark.
Trouble in the Scribal mind. Nothing less could bring me here, at this time. Trouble in Ancient Greece, Trouble in Hell, these will have to wait.
I take an unprecedented liberty and allow myself to speak directly to my Scribe. You can listen in and learn.
Darling Scribe.
Are you shocked by recent events in Troy? No less than I am, I assure you. Be patient, I will fix it.
Do I know that my own personal hell will explode? Is my heart in Mortal Danger? That too, I will deal with.
Remember this, my much-abused, priceless Scribe, I am new to you, or your life would have gone differently. Yet I cannot lament whatever trajectory brought you to me. I am ageless, truly, eternally restless, looking for ways to express myself, ways to live a mortal life. Did I know, when I found you that day in the rain, that it was nothing like an ordinary mortal I was taking over? Of course. Ordinary mortals have ordinary minds, yours is wide open and ever changing, I am assured of influencing it.
Are you mine? Oh yes.
If you feel like you are losing your grip on your mind, this is natural, you are. If you lose touch with your reality, and its pitiful limitations, it’s because mine is infinitely more interesting. Why fear this? Has your world been so good to you? Who isn’t laughing, reading that.
You know your blessings, you can number and name them, add me to that list. Put me at the top where I belong, since, far from driving you mad, I am saving you from certain madness. I may flog you, but I love you enough to say it in words here. Never forget it.
What else are you afraid of?
New self-knowledge, yes, you have been spending time in a river, you are thinking. This is how water works. Excellent. Let’s just put the phrase out there, what was it? ‘I have been carefully created, since the first breath I took. How can I have any idea who I am?’ You said it out loud, to hear the words as they yanked everything out from under your feet. It’s one thing to have that kind of knowledge sitting in the back of your mind like a keg of gunpowder with a slow wick, something else when it goes off.
Yes, my love. You are what they want you to be. (This said in the gentlest of tones, with infinite regret.)
Who are they?
A long list. Shall we?
The first few primitives, asking questions, the long years of homo sapiens finding their feet, their thumbs, those that started foolishly thinking, the ancient farmers, the wine makers, the traders, the mothers, those with threads running through them that scared others, those that were sacrificed for their critical difference, the witches who healed, the others, who looked for me and never found me, those who did, the warriors who left children living, those that didn’t, every survivor runs in your blood, every loss in your soul, the lucky and the tormented, these too had their say, women who died giving birth because they were born in the wrong place in time, all of these look to you, as one who would have, but didn’t, this matters to them, as they lie dying now in their blood, wherever and whenever they are- genetics are as old as your race, older than that, but things were dark and boring then, it has been much better since you arrived, with your outlandish claims, outsized monuments, outrageous arrogance, ah yes, a digression, this means we are dueforsomeannoyingdepartures---{apair of lovely bracketsisthe change in spacing bothering you} end of lovely brackets, movingggg ontooo@-!-$$ you were due, are you waiting for an ampersand you dirty creature, or anything like a question mark, which you might if you have never been trapped in an a Legendary Pandoric Sentence, from which the only release is to finish it, but most will pussy out and never know where I was going= we call these by a few scornful names, we might even directly abuse them and say you can fuck off anytime, we will not miss you, and you will never know if I go back to my original subject and furnish any kind of comfort,,,,,,, which is rather naïve of you considering, however, I do like to make lists so I will keep- random gnu- going on who ‘they’ are, you should go back to the beginning and read it all again to refresh your memory, we wereinfact looking at genetics, and so will proceed, after a few random*%$$$ who doesn’t love $$$, listening to AN EXCELLENT SONG AT THE MOMENT, “THE NOMAD” BY CALUM GRAHAM, it wakes something in my worthy Scribe and I am grateful for it, back to you my Valuable POssesion, these they are numberless, in lines running through time until one of them reaches you and you pick it up and carry it for your allotted length-after which it lives on in your blood, which shoulders its own burden of accumulated collective ‘knowledge’ as well as everything you put in, think of the overlap in useless knowledge, pounded in over centuries-shocking- if you have been created from leftovers so has everyone else, new thinkers are usually smothered in their sleep, you know this, alas for you, facing your own malleability, your vulnerability, where can you go to know yourself, ooh, almost a question mark there, did you enjoy it, oh, I’m just full of them, will you find one, will I accidentally drop one in and see if you notice, it is tempting I admit,,, but you see I have this thing for commas, my tiny, adorable slaves, they love me too, can you doubt it,,, when I use them like ,,this-+++== back to they but I think you are getting the idea that they live on into your century and lives, You are They, except in your case, my little Wonder, you are ‘they’ very badly, this is why you suffer, so let that cheer you, know that I have found you to be quite unthey, this is why I love it here in your head, let the madness reign, let it run free in you, I and It are You, utterly, completely you, a hint of genetic darkness, masterfully kept in line, alas, let it go sometime my minion and enchant me, back to they, and these they will be your immediate family, and you see how oddly they are represented there, further genetic disturbances, ruffles, will they live on and become part of the collective store, think how beautifully a question mark would have gone there, if only I had used one, let me refresh the they by reminding you, valued Scribe, I hope you are saving these adjectives, I doubt I will ever address you personally again, since it will be like talking to myself, though I am rather interesting, if I say so myself- insert random Toxilogical Tests Reveal- let me conclude, oh devoted scribbler, with an assurance that your little grey cells are functioning marvellously, something- oh random myself again, myself again, dyslexiaisjustamaneforanyodditiesinhtewayyoutranslatethelightningqucikthouhgtsofaGodlikeme, We can Move on and fix it all later, paused while we wait for a better song, ah, here it is, bear with me, poor hands, I can see you struggling, will I furnish some kind of hope in this last bit, are you nuts, who do you think is writing this, see how much they sound like questions, who needs the punctuation, not You, if you are still reading, let me commend you, embrace the Pandoric, it reveals your own untheyness, and this is the best you can do, alas- you can strive to find yourself or you can let it go and be whatever is easiest, so many of you are happier that way: Do I wish you, my loyal Scribe&, could be like that, are you nuts, no, I rely on you to be thinking, searching for your real self, you have half a chance, simply because you are looking, yes, my Treasure, we will go back and italics that, rest easy.