1. |
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*In which the last human boards a rocket.*
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2. |
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|
*In which the last human departs Earth.*
Verily, a polluted stream is man.
And verily, the earth was grieved that he existed
And nuclear rain had come down to absolve it.
I saw the end of every church, every mosque, and every synagogue,
I saw the end of every saint and every sinner
I saw the end of every hero and every villain
I saw the end of the righteous and the wicked
I saw the end of love and war, of heavens and hells
I saw the end of God
And I looked and beheld an ashen horse: and his name that sat on him was Thanatos, and Hades followed with him. Power was given unto them to kill with sword, and with hunger, and with death.
All the accomplishments of men meant absolutely nothing.
They met their end beneath the hooves of an ashen horse.
And so I fled from the cup into a soaring bird -
Thou Brancusian vessel!
Ignite – engines roar above swirling masses
Tooth and claw, sword and shield
Lightning thunders above metal birds
Escape velocity – an escape
Oppenheimer’s voice of ruin
Goodbye to everything,
Goodbye to a pale blue dot erased
Now, into darkness this vessel will stride
In search of new light.
In search of a meaning outside of myself
Outside of the world surrounding me
Outside of this vessel I am trapped in
Beyond the silence of God,
May he hold me fast
May he go before me
And go beside me to befriend me
O Lord, may thou guide me
May thy hand be upon me
Goodbye to everything
Goodbye
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3. |
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|
Day 1: The Flammarion Pilgrim
It’s been only around a day, more or less. I’m not sure why I’m recording this log, as I’m the last human. I have no means of continuing the line of the human race, nor would I have any interest in doing so, even if I had the means.
It has been the case that people of my biological sex have been rendered throughout human history often to objects or mere mode of reproduction. This is not to say that to have or not have children, or to be any way should determine the worth of a woman. It is not even the worth of the woman that is, I should say was, the issue, it was the imposition of any sort of expectation in relation to our sex and the will of men that overrode our own.
In the current state in which the world was before it collapsed, women were only inferior to men, insomuch that their situation created by our cultures and our societies only provided them with fewer possibilities. Male and female stood opposed within a primordial Mitsein, and women have not broken it [i].
How strange, that a society so advanced and great, could not overturn the concrete inequality in reality – only touting enthusiasm for an abstract equality and a destiny, in actuality, would not want to share. For all its fanfare and good intention, it meant nothing, only operating within the confines of its own system and thus its limitations.
Being in the same system and desiring not true change, we were born to eternally recur and repeat. Our lives, as we lived them, were grains of dust tumbling through glass to glass in an eternal overturning clock. [ii]
Although I must really think about what true change would have looked like – many wave the banner of freedom and deal with the opposition, but it never does anything of great significance. Can there be true change within the same system? Perhaps. Perhaps not. Robespierre succeeded in revolution, but turned slave to the system he created. The system should change, but in such a way that defies a Thermidorian Reaction.
But to do a thing of great significance. What does it mean to do such a thing? Not just regarding the equality of rights for women and the eradication of discrimination, but to do anything of great significance?
Many seek it outside of themselves, to be a part of a cosmic, metaphysical grander order of things, or perhaps in just a grander order of things.
“Why am I here?”
This is the question we all ask ourselves, some have objectively better answers than others. I don’t think anyone would contest (and not that there is anyone alive to contest) that the person who thinks, “I am here to earn money,” is a little better than, “I am here to kill.”
People placed their trust in God or gods, or in movements and parties, or in their nations and governments, these trusts sometimes helped better humanity, more often destroyed us. [iii]
In the name of our greater significances we have hurt, pillaged, ravaged, broken each other.
And so, what does it mean to do a thing of great significance?
Would it be significant even now, now that the only person I would impact is me? [iv]
Can there be an objective significance? Or is it subjective based on situation?
If anyone else were alive, they would tell me to do this or that. It doesn’t matter now. Did it matter then?
Now I am alone with little to do, I have very little choices that are available to me that would not be significant for anyone else.
What should I eat? These things become of the utmost importance because they are my choices.
And these now are my ultimate choices:
Can my state of being right now be called living?
If it is living, shall I choose to live?
If it is not, what then?
Is it better to cease existing altogether?
Or is my life, my worth precious enough that I should continue to live as best as I can?
Or is it precious enough to not want to see my degrading self?
The other humans, those lucky bastards – they are free from the responsibility of freedom. I, myself, have been thrown into another world in which I am condemned to be free. I am the future of myself. [v]
How I shall choose to move forward becomes an odyssey.
[vi]
[i] The Second Sex, Simone de Beauvoir
[ii] The Gay Science, Friedrich Nietzsche
[iii] Thus Spake Zarathustra, Friedrich Nietzsche
[iv] No Exit, Jean-Paul Sartre
[v] Existentialism is a Humanism, Jean-Paul Sartre
[v] https://www.intrusivethoughts.org/
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4. |
||||
|
*In which the last human feels the cold expanse of the void above and the absence of God below.*
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||||
5. |
Arche I: Alpha and Omega
03:27
|
|||
|
*In which the last human realizes her status as the last living organism.*
I am the first,
I am the last,
As I will it, so it shall be.
Torn between the tendrils of life
And the illimitable void
I am the gate between
Pluto’s doors shall not stand
Inanis – ad infinitum
Proclaim to the black,
Thou shalt burn with fire.
Alpha
Omega
So it shall be.
|
||||
6. |
Arche II: Entheos
02:51
|
|||
|
*In which the last human has slain the spirit of gravity.*
Without end, without beginning,
No sacred and no profane
Indeterminable space and time.
I am that I am
I am the billion stories,
I burn with a billion flames
These flames are tried and true
I have ascended carrying the ashes,
Descending in chaos of waters
And this cup empties in vain
My existence is resistance
In meaninglessness:
“We have lived here!
We have loved!”
These embers burn,
“We exist!”
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7. |
||||
|
*In which the last human contemplates her free will.*
Am I free?
Is my free will merely an illusion of my own making?
Am I merely the amalgamation of a series of chain reactions?
What I perceive as conscious choice,
An unconscious consequence?
Am I a causer or merely an effect?
When Adam bit into that fruit,
Did he choose to fall away or
Was it a matter of inevitability?
Is man merely created to worship,
And anything that happens otherwise,
A mere anomaly?
A striving of the wind, a thing we held so dear,
But found to be nothing but dust in its end?
Why keep fighting?
Am I fighting for more than mere survival?
I know I will perish -
An inevitable defeat
So why?
Because I choose to.
Though the hunger of the void
Gnaws in between my bones
As long as I breathe,
Yes, as long as I breathe,
This void will starve.
|
||||
8. |
||||
|
*In which the last human musters courage to brave the voyage.*
|
||||
9. |
||||
|
Day 300: The Tragedy of the Commons [i]
I have been counting the days – I’m not entirely sure if each passing day is a small victory or whether it is another day in which the desire for life has held me captive.
Almost a year – and the more days I count, it seems to me, whether victor or captive, it is a losing hand in which we have been given.
Sorry, I’ve been given.
What does it all matter if nothing I do will be seen or read or heard by anyone? If it will all end with no consequence?
It seems, also, that humans were put between Scylla and Charybdis.
If God knew all paths and ways of time, surely he would have known that Adam and Eve would have plucked the forbidden fruit, long before he breathed life into their clay. [ii] [iii]
And thus humanity was on a spiral downward from the beginning.
Humans were social creatures – desiring to be loved and to love, to live and to bequeath life unto others. And it is that nature that damned us.
We consumed and gave things that were not just ours, but our planet’s.
We broke away from the natural cycle of life – encroaching on the territory of other mammals and populations, cultivating our own food supply, creating our cities.
I don’t think it was a bad thing necessarily.
But all we did was take – never give.
Those beautiful, intimate moments,
The fragile nipple, the white linen sheets
We made love and decreased the mortality rate.
So we bred like rats, fruitful and multiplying, multiplying far beyond our means of production.
And we could not let our brothers and sisters die. We could not. [iv] [v] [vi][vii][viii]
We tried to feed ourselves and save ourselves, but all that did was cause more starvation and suffering.
There was such little habitat for such a quantity of inhabitants. [ix]
So we quarreled and fought, waging wars, over more land, more economic resources, more food, to survive.
We live pyrrhic lives. Every last one of us.
In extending our lives, we subjected ourselves to a living hell.
And those few who had the means to drastically increase their quality of life and their lives sought to increase it for themselves, leaving behind only scraps of scraps for the many. [x]
They made themselves untouchable with their wealth. They made strong and lofty walls, both literal and socioeconomic. They sought to forget we existed outside the walls, with ample food and drink and entertainment.
But all things are temporary, and no one escapes Death.
The mighty cried, “Peace! Safety!” But that day came like a thief in the night. Their walls were felled beneath the weight of nuclear terror. [xi][xii]
And all died each in the despairing posture of their fall. And the hands of every clock folded.
And Darkness and Decay and Death held illimitable dominion over all.
Perhaps it was just as well.
We would have consumed all the Earth, and eventually ourselves.
We would have made our environment too toxic to live in.
We would have replaced our ocean waters with plastic and melted the icebergs to compensate.
We would breathe smog more readily than steward the Earth we were given.
Triune God, Almighty Father, Son of Man, Holy Spirit, was it worth creating humanity? Did you love us when we razed and raped each other? Did you remember us fondly like you do the grains of sand on the dead shores? Was the good in our createdness worth all the pain and death? All the suffering? All the racism and inequality, the inhumane things we have wrought on each other? Was it very good?
But now, nothing remains.
Escaping the decay of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare, this lonely vessel strides into the void, stretching far away. [xiii]
[i] (Tragedy of the Commons) https://www.britannica.com/science/tragedy-of-the-commons
[ii] Prometheus Unbound, Percy Bysshe Shelley
[iii] First Cause/Cosmological Argument for God
[iv] Ishmael, Daniel Quinn
[v] I think it might be easy to interpret this as pro-ecofascism, but that is the exact opposite of what I want to express. The reality is that humans remain in a biosphere, interconnected with the organisms that surround us, often times creating artificial ecosystems, even more often artificial ecosystems that are detrimental to the organisms that find themselves in it. Our current lifestyles create so much waste unnecessary devastation (plastic, trash, deforestation, etc.). As for food shortages and famine, I think wresting environmental control from big corporations that cause most of our pollution is a good start. There’s also a tendency (albeit that has lessened slowly) to simply give aid to countries who need it as opposed to give them the tools to be independent and self-sustaining. Empowerment of our fellow humans must be key – we cannot be first-world saviors. We need to be more aware, also, as organisms in a delicate ecosystem who we depend on for our sustenance and what other predators we are hedging out in making our mark. That is not to say we are the same as other animals and should be treated as such – this mindset is an eco-fascist one and is unfair toward developing countries who don’t have a say (not by their choice, but by the choice of those who wield power). This mindset will only lead to shutting out aid for developing countries or culling precious human lives for the sake of “population control” and “lifeboat ethics,” which are not options up for debate at all. There can be no such thing in a world bent on human progress. There is no room for Nazism, fascism, racism, and genocide. We must not focus on individual and short-term profiting but collective preservation – meaning ALL of the human race.
[vi] (Climate Change: Atmospheric Carbon Dioxide) https://www.climate.gov/news-features/understanding-climate/climate-change-atmospheric-carbon-dioxide
[vii] (What are the greenhouse gas changes since the Industrial Revolution?) https://www.acs.org/content/acs/en/climatescience/greenhousegases/industrialrevolution.html
[viii] (Revealed: the 20 firms behind a third of all carbon emissions) https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2019/oct/09/revealed-20-firms-third-carbon-emissions
[ix] “We tried to feed ourselves and save ourselves, but all that did was cause more starvation and suffering./There was such little habitat for such a quantity of inhabitants.” The tragedy of the commons only exists is if the resource or resources in question are scarce or in the process of becoming scarce. The resources are being hoarded for selfish governmental and corporate purposes by the few and wealthy. The tragedy of the commons is often analogized as several ranchers with a grazing field that adds more cattle to the field to increase their profits. The few ranchers receive the benefit while the many cattle slowly starve. The cattle must break down the pens and become their own ranchers. The ranchers profit off of the cattle, and it is only fair that the cattle get their due.
[x] The eco-fascists and the wealthy, the upper class
[xi] Masque of the Red Death, Edgar Allen Poe
[xii] The Communist Manifesto, Marx, Engles
[xiii] Ozymandias, Percy Bysshe Shelley
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10. |
||||
|
*In which the last human contemplates her finitude.*
Steel walls echo prayers
I watch stars pass me by, shining for no one,
Shining in vain into the black void
Like snow suspended in the deep
A creature in endless amber
In an ocean of space
Where stars refuse to fall
A mote of dust suspended on a sunbeam
Ready to fall at slightest provocation
I am the mote of dust.
I am the first.
I am the last.
So it shall be.
I am the only,
And I can do nothing.
|
||||
11. |
Marine Snow II: Yawn
02:49
|
|||
|
*In which the last human contemplates her small existence.*
The maw of the void yawns so wide,
It swallows me whole.
A mote of dust
Among billions that have fallen
All streams return to the sea
Generations came and went
The wind blows in circles
Nothing new will be done.
Meaning is a mist, unsearchable
Eternity in the heart,
Yet its scope cannot be known
I am lost.
|
||||
12. |
||||
|
*In which the last human remembers the Ruination.*
|
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13. |
||||
|
*In which the last human wrestles with the worth of human creation.*
Are you just in these judgments, O Holy One?
Thou Lamb who is the Maker of the cup,
And the one who does not let it pass from our lips
Fire poured out from the cup of Wrath
Bitter vintage, burning sulfur,
Torn skin and scorched flesh,
A cleansed earth.
Their shadows follow me.
What are the roots that clutch?
What branches grow out of this stony rubbish?
Son of Man, you cannot say, or guess.
For You know only a heap of broken images.
For You were the one that caused this wasteland.
Did you see us at all?
Did you ever truly love us at all?
God were you truly human?
This is fear in a handful of dust.
Hail Thou Primum Movens
The mystery of God accomplished,
In its wonders, in Second Death,
Thou slayer, thou sword, thou Physician
The mystery of God accomplished;
In the screams of people burning in lakes of fire,
In grace given to a man created,
Foreknown to partake fruit
Accomplished in Death to all.
|
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14. |
Breathless III: Prosópon
02:47
|
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|
*In which the last human contemplates and mourns the past.*
All the time in the world passes,
But it doesn’t pass quickly enough
Death doesn’t come fast enough
A calendar lined with red
The Spirit weeps
For the holy matrimony
Of steel and flesh
A flower rendered to shreds
Ever-present entropy
Tallies upon tallies,
Scars upon scars
They called to the mountains,
“Fall on us! Fall down on us!
Hide us from the face of him
Who sits on the throne!
From the wrath of the Lamb!
Our end is nigh
And we have not withstood it.”
Death upon death,
I live on the shoulders of nameless coffins
On yours.
I long for a life that I cannot have,
I wonder if I could be happier if I had lived yours
A red rock.
Voices begin.
I am shadow of death,
And I am no end.
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15. |
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Day 1156: The Flesh is Weak
May the day of my birth perish, and the night that said, ‘A daughter is conceived!’ That day—may it turn to darkness; may God above not care about it; may no light shine on it. May gloom and utter darkness claim it once more; may a cloud settle over it; may blackness overwhelm it.
That night—may thick darkness seize it; may it not be included among the days of the year nor be entered in any of the months. May that night be barren; may no shout of joy be heard in it…
May its morning stars become dark; may it wait for daylight in vain and not see the first rays of dawn, for it did not shut the doors of the womb on me to hide trouble from my eyes.
Why did I not perish at birth, and die as I came from the womb? Why were there knees to receive me and breasts that I might be nursed? For now I would be lying down in peace… Or why was I not hidden away in the ground like a stillborn child, like an infant who never saw the light of day?
In death, there the wicked cease from turmoil, and there the weary are at rest. Captives also enjoy their ease; they no longer hear the slave driver’s shout. The small and the great are there, and the slaves are freed from their owners.
Why is light given to those in misery, and life to the bitter of soul, to those who long for death that does not come, who search for it more than for hidden treasure, who are filled with gladness and rejoice when they reach the grave? Why is life given to us, whose way is hidden, whom God has hedged in? Sighing has become my daily food; groans pour out like water. I have no peace, no quietness; I have no rest, but only turmoil. [i]
What purpose was there for me to be born?
To suffer? To writhe in agony and existential anguish? [ii]
Born damned, born hanged from a noose. And God did this to me, he made me like this. Born only to be damned and to burn. Born to be broken by the right hand of God, and born to long for death that did not come. Born to have life and have it hidden, to be swarmed by waves and torrents of the Living God. [iii]
There is no meaning or purpose in this suffering. [iv]
For some reason, I find myself wanting to continue living, but the thoughts of its cessation whisper in the back of my mind.
I am tempted to end it.
The span of my life is but an instant in the shadow of eternity.
For some, it passed by and they reveled in the small miracles their instances graced them with. For me, even then, I wished for the shadow to consume me.
My life is a cup I never wanted. But I will watch and be careful. My flesh is weak. [v] It is growing weaker still.
[i] Job 3
[ii] The Sickness Unto Death, Soren Kierkegaard
[iii] Psalm 42
[iv] Psalm 88
[v] Matthew 26:40-43
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16. |
||||
|
*In which the last human feels the cold expanse of the void around and the absence of God.*
|
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17. |
||||
|
*In which the last human surveys the vast expanse behind and before.*
This is my kingdom,
And it is a barren wasteland.
I see the shadows,
They are everywhere.
On the precipice of the wings of whitest Dawn
In farthest reaches of blackest sea
And God died in grey nuclear winter.
A calendar dyed red
A frail arm guides this ship.
Beyond Kuiper’s loop
The light is darkness.
The woven frame buried not in soil,
But drowned in black.
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18. |
||||
|
*In which the last human sings to God in wavering faith.*
|
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19. |
||||
|
*In which the last human sings for those forgotten.*
I remember they cried for their mothers
Infants submerged in ash
I never asked to be born.
I never asked to live.
There is no light in this place
Infinite night
A place where the sun never rises and never sets.
Heaven despises me and Hell calls me home.
We should have never seen the daylight.
Why was I born?
There is no light in this place
Infinite night
Let the day of my birth be erased,
Let it be turned into darkness
Let it be lost to God
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20. |
Day 3468: Forget Me Not
03:23
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Day 3468: Forget Me Not
God, I don’t know if you’re there, but if you are, don’t forget about me.
And you, the last conversation we had was an irreversible argument. I was prepared to forget you forever.
I did that with a lot of people. But I argued with you because I loved you. All I wanted was for you to love me back. You once told me, “Maybe it’s because I’m bad at loving people.” I don’t think that was true – you didn’t make as much as an effort with me. Still, I loved you. But what does that mean, to love someone?
Was it really meaningless? Are all loves doomed to perish, buried six feet deep, signifying nothing? Maybe. But it meant something to me, and perhaps that’s all that matters.
If you’re not simply ash and dust upon a barren earth, if you’re watching over me somehow, set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm. A poet once said that love is strong as death, and it becomes the very flame of the Lord. [i] [ii] I think there’s truth in that. It’s interesting, that metaphor. Love burns and endures by caring for it and kindling it, tending to it. It is the light by which everyone sees.
So what does it mean love is as strong as death? Maybe it’s the kindness we show to each other never goes unreturned, in one way or another. Kindness and love is something we carry with us, always – unconsciously. It’s something that lives on through us, to each other. In that sense it surpasses death, maybe. It perseveres. [iii][iv]
We are living proof of that.
Our parents pass down their genes to us, a product of reproduction, and we pass down ours. We are living monuments, our DNA inscribed with our ancestors’ genes. [v]
We pass down our love and kindness to those we love, and they pass it down to theirs.
The pains of death gives us back to the Earth, and we become part of Creation again; we feed the decomposers and the producers with our bodies, and they give way to life. [vi]
We teach ourselves, our children, that the sickness of Death is not a sickness at all – it is a natural part of life. It reminds us that the things we hold onto are not things to be held onto at all. And I carry that with me, even if no one else does.[iv] [vi] [vii]
So despite all our love disappearing into ash, did it mean anything?
I think so.
Even if it was a cry echoing into a boundless void, made in vain.
And is my faith in God wasted now? [viii]
Perhaps.
But isn’t faith made despite the lack of any reason?
God, if you’re there, don’t forget about me.
Just like I won’t forget the seven billion that perished.
Just like I won’t forget the one I love.
Forget me not.
Please.
[i] Song of Songs 6:8
[ii] The Testaments, Margaret Atwood
[iii] Works of Love, Soren Kierkegaard
[iv] The Plague, Albert Camus
[v] I Saw Satan Fall Like Lightning, Rene Girard
[vi] The Rotation of Crops, Soren Kierkegaard
[vii] The Fountain, Darren Aronofsky
[viii] The Tree of Life, Terrence Malick
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21. |
Telos I: Dusk
04:59
|
|||
|
*In which the last human breaks.*
|
||||
22. |
||||
|
*In which the last human contemplates her purpose.*
I am Sisyphus,
Bound to hell,
Empty kingdom,
Life without end.
Man is food for gods,
And all our gods have abandoned us.
The Universe made to entertain
Frivolity and whims of capricious gods.
I am only a marionette in the hands of a songwriter,
Demise put on display for those who hear,
An Eden tree planted in a human brain,
I choose all in vain.
Only the void there in me
No heaven above, no hell below
No still whisper and no loud thunder
Who is God but death from above,
And what is Hell but the space in my head?
Born to live a thousand days,
And suffer a thousand more,
Until our breath expires,
Come a thousand more after
Dragged into the grave,
Penitent and prideful alike,
There is no meaning in this place
Void of compassion
The end of man is no end
We are born to die.
|
||||
23. |
||||
|
*In which the last human partakes of the divine nature.*
Damn this Eden tree and damn the apple,
I burn the tree and apple altogether.
I cannot be saved.
How shall I be comforted?
I live upon corpses upon corpses,
The sacred and mighty bleed,
This calendar runs crimson.
How shall I atone?
What game shall I invent?
I have been heavy-laden too long.
Verily, the lion and its might
It is a holy No.
And now the child.
A holy yes,
Unto life.
Theosis accomplished,
In likeness of God,
With free will
I will.
As I will it so it shall be.
I am the first, I am the last
Alpha and Omega
Beginning and End
In likeness of God
With free will
Theosis accomplished
Entheos in holy No and holy Yes
Christ, I have loved Thee
And yet no answer parts from Thy lips
Except a silent kiss
I’ll take every blessing and curse
In constant existential anguish
In swarms of waters
But it will be my own choice.
Theosis accomplished.
I choose to burn the tree.
|
||||
24. |
Day _________
00:54
|
|||
|
Day _________:
|
||||
25. |
||||
|
*In which the last human stares into the abyss and the absence of love and God within.*
esarE
hselF
teW
deR
nikS
thgin etinifnI
ecalp siht thgil on si erehT
thgilyad eht nees reven evah dluohs eW
emoh em sllac lleH dna em sesipsed nevaeH
stes reven dna sesir reven nus eht erehw ecalp A
thgin etinifnI
ecalp siht thgil on si erehT
evil ot deksa reven I
nrob eb ot deksa reven I
thgil rof hcraes niav ,ssenkrad otnI
stekcoseye ym dniheb meht leef I
seugnot ni kaeps yehT
gnivrats si diov sihT
hself dna worraM
tuo dna ni wang yehT
,regnuh fo dioveD
|
||||
26. |
||||
|
*In which the last human makes peace with herself.*
I am a meaningless creation,
And meaning-creating am I.
The first human to be here,
And the last to survive,
Confronted with existence
I am that I am,
I exist in meaningless chaos,
An existence preceding essence,
Alpha and Omega,
As I will it, so it shall be.
I am a meaningless creation,
And meaning-creating am I.
Condemned to be free.
The strings have gone slack.
No longer despising life.
I cannot go back.
Away with the new idols!
Away with the coldest of cold monsters
Away with the regulating fingers of Gods!
I refuse to dance for you,
I refuse to be your ignorant toy,
A ballerina, forever spinning in a music box
Unaware she is trapped in an endless dance
For someone else’s entertainment
I am not your puppet.
I am not your pawn.
The ballerina will dance of her own free will.
She will break her chains.
She will dance for herself.
Freedom for the prisoner!
Recovery from the blindness from freedom!
Liberty for the oppressed!
I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.
I will slit my throat,
And in doing so,
I will slit the throat of God.
Freedom for the prisoner!
Recovery from the blindness from freedom!
Liberty for the oppressed!
Let it be fulfilled!
I -
I am become Death,
I am become Death,
The destroyer of worlds.
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27. |
I Am
06:44
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|
*In which the last human makes a choice.*
I am that I am,
I exist in meaningless chaos,
An existence preceding essence,
I swallowed down nuclear ash to exhale fire
I lived upon seven billion lifetimes,
But now, this calendar must end,
As codas end all songs,
I am the end.
I am that I am.
As I slit my throat, I slit the throat of God
I refuse to die a death dictated by the unseen
To suffer for your amusement any longer
I defy my destiny and reset the world
I cut the cords and become an infant
The will of God denied
Is there still grace for me?
Into your hands, I commit my spirit
Let me ascend the mountain
Let me stand in the holy place
Let my blood cry out from Brancusian ground
Separated from earth,
The natural order of birth and death
Let it cry forgiveness,
Let it beg for understanding
Let it find mercy in life after
I have nothing else
No meaning
I am nothing.
I am sin.
Born empty,
[A frail and hollow human shell.]
This vessel is Hell
I give it as an offering,
A living sacrifice.
Father, forgive me,
Your prodigal child returns.
Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
Please let me die and never wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take.
Goodbye,
Goodbye to everything
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Crawl Across the Sky Baltimore, Maryland
as long as i breathe, this void will starve
Crawl Across the Sky recommends:
The very first ambient album I heard: its beautiful soundscapes draw you into another world of your own. It's free too!
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