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MisterMonster -> I am but a field mouse, my dear. (12/7/2010 11:13:14 AM)
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Your previous attackers, those who have failed you, miserably, who have done wrong by you, by letting you escape, like you secretly always wish you won't get to do, they approached everything...wrong. Before they even made eye contact with you, before they even knew you ever existed, they approached it wrong, because they approached themselves wrong. They likened themselves, to a terrible, black tidal wave, a miserable evil from the darkest of the dark, the cruelest of the cruel, the coldest of the cold.They convinced you, that they were born from chaos and agony, that they were terrible beasts, engulfing ships, and skyscrapers, and anything that stood in their way. They terrified you, a good start, but they terrified you with lies, by planting mischief like Loki, painting themselves as Odin or Zeus, whilst likening you to a gentle doe, helpless before their mighty, terrible rending spears, and swords, and pain. They told you they were big, and you were small, and you believed in this and trusted their royal decree, ignoring it was written on potato sacks.They said they were big and you were small, that they were strong and you were weak, but you are not! We are born from you, men are born from their mothers, as earth is our mother, and when you were pushed and you needed them to keep you chained and hobbled, you rose up, terrible and beautiful as the sky at dusk, majestic as all the rays of the sun gleaming upon the ocean in a beautiful, calming, terrifying statement: "Whatever you build, no matter how tall or wide, or grand or terrible, will ever compare with what already is." You rose up against that wave, not a wall for it to smash through, not a building for it to ravage, not even as a fortress for it to leak around, but as the earth itself, as that construct so massive and so all encompassing, that they gaze upon you with terror, beautiful terror, seeing for the first time how small they really are, seeing how strong you truly can become, yet right now furious, raw, unsculpted and unfocused, and unbearable to all who have faced you, yet. And you've started to realize, that no tidal wave can ever damage you, not truly. No man, no matter how big he claims himself, can ever tame, or bring you to your knees, and I am no exception, to that rule.
But I am no terrible, black wave to smash harmlessly against you, I am no nuclear warhead unable to penetrate the bunker you've created, I am no lion uselessly ramming against the walls of the kingdom. I am but a simple field mouse, my dear, small and unassuming, and unfearful for all that is larger then myself. As you rage and sit strong and proud, I gleefully slip inside, finding the teeniest, insignificant cracks in the defenses, waiting there for years, and years, and years, chipping away, laying waste to those important wires and pipes that make up your methods of functioning. Slowly cracking those pillars which hold everything up, that is oh so important. Every other beast seeking to conquer you has ended up devoured by your mighty strength, but I make no attempts to foolishly push you down. Pushing you down, implies that you can stand, and if you can still do that when I make my move, then I have no business making those moves. The lions and wolves cannot withstand your fangs and jaws, but they thought they were big, when really they were small, when really YOU were big, but I know what I am. I am small, small enough to jump in your mouth, and run down your throat. Small enough to nibble away at your tissue, at your organs, small enough to swim through your blood and chew right through your heart which controls EVERYTHING. Small enough to gnaw through your spinal cord, to paralyze you, to bring you to your knees, permanently. Small enough, to climb up and s q u e e z e through your uvula, small enough to get past your mighty skull and get into your brain, your mind, to tear and shred those functions which are not important to me, and leave those that are of service to me and more importantly, to yourself. It is not for me that I do this, my lovely, lovely darling, not for myself that I brave the dangers, that I lurk in the walls, that I swim through your murky, thick life-force and chew through everything precious for you. It is for yourself, my beautiful love, it is for you that I conquer you, that I kill you before you kill yourself. I know you don't understand this, my dear. You will fight it when you don't want to, you will sob and cling to laws, as you throw humanity and morality at my small, unassuming frame as I hope over such useless, large obstacles. You will scream WHY and through it all, the most humiliating aspect of this will be, that this shouldn't happen to you! You are large, but I am small, and you are strong, but I am weak! How can this happen, to the strong?! But it is not about big or small, it is not about strong or weak, my special pet.
It's about domination. It is about you, with all your strength, and largeness, and power, learning to serve me with it, your simple little field mouse. Your conqueror. Ah, yes, it's about time...
TIIIIMBER!
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