aumsworld

The Cupid Monologue

Cold? I’ve been called cold before, and heartless, cruel, mad; beautiful as well, or at least a cutie, and quite a heartbreaker, as you will agree. Cold I am, granite sculpted without softness of touch, a doll without love sown by hands that, without a doubt, should have been a mother’s; and yet they weren’t! You speak of broken hearts? I have never had a heart, never anything but a patch of red fabric that has once been glued onto my breast, only to be ripped away by those very same unmotherly hands that have once made me. A doll, you say, a doll! Then that is what I am: a doll, a statue of torn silks and tattered rags, a doll then, a mere puppet, just as you say, in your eyes a doll! But if you see and treat me as such, then how can you expect me to show compassion, sympathy, love? Dolls have no feelings. Dolls are empty angels, they are stone, they are heartless and mad. Dolls are cold. Thus, I am. Go ahead, now, sink your stinging needles into me, call me names, strike me with those pure white hands of yours, pull my threads apart and tear through my flesh! Do you sincerely think it matters to a doll to be ripped apart?

- Aum
(By the way, if this can make things any clearer to you: in my culture, the word for "doll" is also slang for whore...)

If Hell is a swearword, then Heaven should be, as well.