Aragorn's ring

Upsidownpenguin

United States

Writing about the dwarves and playing the dungeons and the dragons. 17, and looking to get published someday.
Also growing an obsession with modular synthesizers.
Write Free

Message to Readers

I spent a lot of time on this one.
MENTAL HEALTH WARNING
If you struggle with severe mental health issues, or even minor ones, I CANNOT recommend you read this story. It has disturbing imagery and has thoughts that do not put disorders in a good light.
This story is about the dark side of vulnerability and mental health, not the good. READ THIS AT YOUR OWN RISK YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

The Mask of Ire and Masochistic Desire

July 11, 2019

FREE WRITING

4
You won’t admit it.
This mask feels good.
But it hurts.
This mask sears a pair of glasses to your face, melting your flesh and twisting your bones.
This mask puts a gag in your mouth, filling it with gauze and your own blood.
But what do you see?
You see everyone around you living a perfect life.
You see everyone around you living without you.
The world turns but you stay stuck where you are.
You watch as everything around you hangs in perfect balance,
And you’re too afraid to upset that.
So you stand there, not interacting at all.
No interaction,
No one to show you that the balance isn’t real.
You become reserved,
Hiding behind your mask of glass and blood.
Your flesh searing,
Your mouth bleeding.

There was a boat,
In the middle of the ocean,
Surrounded by fish, sharks and dolphins.
But they all look the same from the ship.
The fisherman casts his net, catches a few;
Loads them onto his vessel and rows back to shore.
He opens his net
And it is filled with
Octopi
Octopi not in the ocean.
He looks confused, and you look on through your glasses.
The shore is beautiful.
Perfect.
You want to be there.
You long to be there.
You want to help the fisherman.
You take the glasses off and he vanishes.
So you put them back on again.
It burns.
It burns horribly.
But you keep wearing them; You want to see the shore, the boat, the man.
It burns.
But you like it.
It lets you see perfection.
Then the fisherman sees you,
Waves to you like a friend.
He smiles, and holds up one of the creatures, and it looks at you.
It has a gaze full of ire.
You get lost in the look, you love the look.
You finally step forward and the world pushes you back.
A wave of fire and ire slamming you down.
You laugh at the pain, though tears still flow.
You laugh harder and harder as the waves keep coming, your eyes focused on
The eyes of the octopus.
You stand back up, your clothes ablaze, your flesh melted asunder.
And you reach the fisherman; he offers you his wicker hat.
You accept, and place it on your burning head.
It lights, like a halo of fire.
From a distance, the flames around your body look more like wings.
You hear yourself laugh.
You say you’re an angel.
Then the fisherman tells you:
SO WAS LUCIFER.

The octopus grabs your hand, pulls you in.
It grabs your face,
The beak sucking the blood in itself.
Now
You’re what you were always meant to become.
The devil in your own head.
You kiss the creature back, feeling the beak and the cups on its arms.
You find yourself walking.
No.
Running.
Down the beach, completely blind.
You feel the hot sand under your feet, the cool breeze and the sun on your charred skin.
The fire begins to stall, turning solid.
You’re sprouting wings.

You awake in flight, the octopus gone.
The water is above you, the sun below.
Twisting around in circles, mid-flight.
The water is down again, the sun is up.
It reverses again, the waves clawing down at you.
And the sun calling for you to stop.
You look at him, the sun of red.
He’s crying, his hot tears meeting the ocean’s waves at half-sky.
In all directions, the tears and claws are closing in.
The water is laughing, and the sun is crying.

You blink and now you find yourself on a mountain top, looking at the moon and stars.
There’s little drops of sun around you, orbs of light.
From behind, the fisherman looks on.
In his perspective, your head eclipses the moon,
The drops of sun crying for you.

This is what you feel with this mask.
THE MASK OF IRE AND MASOCHISTIC DESIRE

Hope you like what you see.
Because everyone else is crying for you to stop running at that racing car.

Print

See History
  • July 11, 2019 - 1:19pm (Now Viewing)

Login or Signup to provide a comment.

2 Comments
  • r|A|i|N

    sorry, i realize that earlier comment sounded kind of creepy. i just think you did a great job portraying the emotion here.


    3 months ago
  • r|A|i|N

    this is so dark & disturbing. i love it.


    3 months ago