Beast

beastI am a horrible man. A terrible man beneath the calm waves of human demeanor. A violent son of a bitch, an ax carrying card member of your worst fucking nightmare. Yes, your nightmare because I’m looking at you and there’s no place to run, no escape till death freezes the blood in your veins, quiets your heart and turns your thoughts to mine.

And the worst of it, you’re nothing special. You just happen to belong to the beast, this beast, and I’ll do with you as I please.

There was a time, a time far past when I was human. A husband, a father, a brother or sister, it doesn’t matter because when the human hit the pavement and the blood splatted like projectile puke with tiny little fragrant pieces of body parts splaying, washing my face, I was reborn under the bright, burning sun.

The first time, the fear was paralyzing and I couldn’t do it. As much as I wanted to, I had to, I could not. I sat down before their pitiful bound souls and took sorrow on them, staring at the bright green duct tape I had plastered over their mouths. I became lost in my thoughts, were they married, did they have children or were they only friends?

I wanted to know. I reached out toward the fat women and pulled the duct tape off and she recoiled in fear. I wanted to soothe her fears, let her know I understood, that everything would be alright, that I was not going to give in to temptation. That soon she would be, free. That women managed to find a semblance of courage but it was not the found courage that paid for her life. She did not understand me, or anything about me and she spit in my face with her new faith, and drooling, she demanded to know what I was going to do.

She demanded!

And then her bravado waned and was replaced with tears. Tears that mixed with her drool  as she called me out for what I was. She murmured a simple word, beast. She named me and it cost her.

I paused in hearing the word, finally understanding and I did what I was meant to do. I carried the weight of the hammer across her face. Not in a violent, hard and impulsive manner but soft and generous, enough to split open her face and watch her reaction as well that of her friend who squirmed under the oppressive weight of foresight. I took my time, alternating the hammer between them, all soft blows to various parts of their body. I gave them time, and plenty of it, to beg, to repent, to cry, to hurt, to question, and to pray. They mostly cried. And hurt. And with each blow, I matured, I understood more about who I was.

I was asked once by a young man, a man that had been handsome, why I hated him, as if it was hate that drove my passion. I caressed his beaten face that I had pummeled with my bare hands and ran a soothing palm over his stained chest, then drew an outline of a happy face, there on his chest, with his own blood as I smiled at him. Him, I let die in peace because he was a handsome young man that reminded me of someone I had once known, a long time ago.

I am not driven by hate or love, fear is non existent for neither god nor devil have no need of me. Whereas I am driven by need, by desire, by the story the stars have written across the blackness of night and the sun that burns flesh from that story. I am God and you are mine.

Mine as I set here, across from you, watching your mouth chew the fat killing steak you cooked while you dream a life of love and comfort, of family and friends, unaware, oblivious and ignorant of the beast.

That is your mistake.

Human Nature, and the way of the Beast

There is an old adage that the more things change, the more they stay the same.

 

The truth is nothing really ever changes, does it? Perhaps in the sense of time, space, and location it might seem that things change, but they do not. Mountain ranges rise, thrusting their peaks skyward in a powerfull display of earthly ego but these peaks erode and wither away to dust and to some long term observer, they would conclude a semblance of change, and they would be wrong. Those peaks will apear elsewhere, in some form in some fashion, in some place.deeptht

Human civilization is no different. Rome rose, collapsed, rose again, collapsed and has now risen again, only to be on the verge on eventual collapse.

Human behavior does not seem to change, and while it may contribute to what we see as change in the short viewpoint, in the long term it all becomes the same. Because I can plant a tree, and see that tree bear fruit, that tree and it’s fruit, is not much different than that of a tree planted a thousand years ago.

Change is an illusion!

The stage remains, the characters remain the same, only the actors change and their behavior remains no different, they play their roles no different than their predecessors.

While we have physically evolved, the emotions, thoughts and belief systems have change very little. While I’d agree to an argument that religion has changed, I’d add that ‘change’ has only bothered to effect a small number of people. The need for religion has not changed. The overlying arc of who we are as humans has not changed, and cannot change.

The capabilty to do so is beyond us, or hidden from us for some reason.

Take something as destructive as war. You’d think that after the first war some several thousand years ago, people would have got together and started talking about a better way to solve their differences. It didn’t happen then, and it won’t happen now.

Why? Because power; the need to control, to subject, is to be proven right, is to be given worth, and all those things are powerfull emotions humans cannot control. It is worth taking the chance to lose everything so that you may gain everything if you prevail. It is a need saturated deep in all of use and it is unchanging, and it is the beast in us