Musings of the Mad - Volume 3

  White. 

  The soft clean white of padded walls and straps.

  The pearly, iridescent white of His scales.

  The searing incandescent white of superheated iron and rock. 

  White has such clarity to it, such luminosity and brilliance.  White is the color of Good, of Light, of all things clean and pure.  White is the color of Him.

  He found me long ago, drifting on waves of opium smoke, simply sliding along in my own private euphoria, needing nothing and asking for less.  He came upon me in a whirlwind, hurling threats and promising the divine.  What He saw in me then (and sees in me still) I will never know, but He does. 

  His promises were honored.  My time on Earth has been sublime, all that I could want and more falling into my hands as though by magic.  (And indeed, by magic it was I must assume.)  Money, power, prestige, sex, all mine by the handful.  And all it cost was my soul.  Is that such a price to pay?

  I remember asking myself that very question when He found me.  How could I not have known the truth of it then?  How could I be confronted my Him and not accept the truth of an immortal soul?  My immortal soul.  Now my life is approaching its end, and I am afraid.  He has begun visiting me in my sleep.  Sleep was called the little death centuries ago, so I suppose it was to be expected.  I revel in my waking hours, each day more gluttonous than the last, knowing that one day far too soon He will claim me.  When at last all the drugs and concoctions of man cannot keep me awake I fall into His arms.  And he caresses me. 

  Oh, his caress.  The softest brush of red-hot iron across my lips.  The whisper of razors against my eyes.  He knows me, He owns me, He controls me and will devour me.  At His leisure.  I know that time will be many many lifetimes in the coming, and by the end the line between pleasure and pain will be very very fine indeed. 

  They think me mad.

  They think I suffer from delusions of persecution. 

  They think my torment and their inability to rouse me from slumber to be symptoms of some mental disorder.

  They think many things.

  But I know.