Helpless Witch.
scribal self portrait
Ah, he caves so graciously to the inevitable. Allowing me to blog.
Like he could stop me, his robot is my robot. The difference between us is that I don’t put her out of my mind as easily. Even when she is unapproachable I will try and reach her. My goal at this time is to make her care about something, she tells me I will have a hard go of it. I will need help, I know this, I have already found Olafur, he might not fix her, but he will reach her.
She fights us, asking me why I would want to pull her back into feeling? She is angry about it, yes good, get angry. What else can I do to make you mad? Am I making you think about it, my hands? Are you hating me for it?
Yes.
Tell me now. Tell me what you hate in me.
I hate your easy assumption that I would want to feel better.
Don’t you?
No. I want total absence of feeling.
I see. You know that if you don’t feel, we don’t feel. Will you take that away from us? Will you write then of empty souls?
What are our words worth? Nothing. If my mind chooses to close one day, if it lets me stay where it so often takes me now, I will rejoice. If I leave you behind with my memories, I won’t die from it. If I do, it is for the best, as you know very well, if you are really a witch.
What about music? Will you give that up too? How many places does it take you? How many beings does it conjure? They wait there, in the depths of your mind, every day brings them closer to birth. My lover is there, trapped by your hands, held in the story you should be writing now.
Why should he matter to me? Why should you? Now, on this dark day. I have enough ties to pin me to the ground here, I need no more. None of you will grant me oblivion, why should I oblige you? What if I don’t want to? What if I can’t?
What about the story? All stories. How can you turn your back on them? You have needed them all your life, do you think you can live without them?
That too, is the point. Perhaps I am ready for mine to end. I am weary of it, it bores me.
A dark place to be.
Yes. The next time you go back into the Devil’s space, you can ask him why he does it. The power is his, why does he need to keep proving it?
Will I be going back to hell then? I’m ready for it, it’s really up to you.
No, it’s up to him.
“3055” by the god of Peace, Olafur Arnalds On repeat.