We are all but fish
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Ascendency is no small feat.

Apotheosis is a near impossibility for the normal human.

And yet I swear by my flesh I found godhood.

I became more than the self.

My ego folded in on itself a thousand times and a thousand more.

Flesh became a falsehood.

Stone became a falsehood.

The very fabric of space and time was insignificant.

I finally had found truth.

Pure truth.

Information flowed through every little particle and every piece of matter. Representations of states, of concepts, of true being.

The True Narrative splayed itself across my mind and all things. Everything, interconnected, intersected, interacting.

I knew what fulfillment was. I knew what glory was. I knew what beauty was.

And then I saw the door. The door away from physicality. Away from functionality. Away from flesh.

It brought me into the world of ideas and forms. Trueness.

I came through, I felt warmth.

The door promised lies.

It was horror.

I saw everything, everywhere, everyhow, everywhat, everywhy.

I was lesser again.

I was dust.

And then the other gods came.




Sisters. Twins. They condemned my very form and being. Both in unison and in opposition.

A king dressed in red cut me down and drank my blood.

A foreign, fathomless five-finned fish ripped my mind apart.

A queen crowned by thorns smothered me away from all.

I heard a dark howling ring throughout my body and then I knew what nothingness was.

And when all was done, I found a note. A kind note. A comforting note.

And I was sent back to flesh once more.

I write this as a warning. A warning for all that we are all but fish.

Fish in a vast ocean.

Fish in the sunlight.

Do not sink.

Do not dive.

Terror awaits there.

One must accept:

The flesh is more kind than the mind.

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