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Crucifixion

How I lament our confluence.

Blurred neon blinding, amidst the deafening echoes of that pulsing cadence,

abandon.

Though mere strangers on that night, we succumbed to the delirium. Our connection forged in the maelstrom of libertine dreams.

Reborn, an intimate alliance of shared decadence.

Mesmerised I watched your silhouette. Entranced, by the way moved in your black dress, body swaying in time to the hypnotic beats of musical barbarism.

Your serpentine movements beguiling, at the mercy of youthful inexperience.

In that den of Eden we sinned, the moment of your temptation nearing. I did not know, that what you had in store for me was not of the flesh, 

but the mind. 

Poison.

Together, our hearts palpitating, the chemicals from the artificial high defied our limited biology. Neurochemistry unlocked, we transcended our evolutionary restraints. Free of worry, endorphins flooding through minds, leading us toward some grand shared epiphany.

Utopia was ours, for a time. 

We revelled in our wanton bliss. 

Our beatitude of exhalation. 

Communion.

Hours passed. Locked inside the confines of that sanctum of boundless possibility. 

As our bodies and minds shifted, time lost all meaning, nothing could penetrate our new world. 

We endured. 

Alive. 

Free.

Then, without warning, the music ceased. 

Our demon souls purged by light as bright as a thousand suns. 

Silence, 

Paradise lost. 

Syncope now ushering us back to realities realm.

Cast out, into the grey and empty streets. 

Had I known all that was to come, I would have left you there to wonder alone. Yet your beauty was my salvation, so I, your simple curio followed, the fox who lost his tail.

Yet I was no fox, for the cunning of your duplicity led me onward to sacrifice. A lamb, to bleed.

Our refuge abandoned, we stumbled listlessly, caught between two disparate worlds. Had I left then, had I not felt the gentle pull of your hand, all would be different.

I did not know.

How could I? my beautiful,

Judas.

Instead we walked, our conversation waxing and waning to the half life of our synthetic muse. What began as an overwhelming bliss shared, as all things, soon turned to sorrow.

Our words slowly drifting from inexhaustible passion to reality, or what I once believed it to be. 

Our come down Kenosis.

Through our lifting haze of reverie the topics became more abstract, shifting from the vagaries of everyday life to more existential concepts. 

You spoke in ways unfamiliar, citing names unknown to me, of philosophy, how limited our interpretations of the world and ourselves could be. That the veil of reality was hidden from us. Intrigued I listened. A fly caught in a spiders web.

Your words soon cracked the outer shell of my prosaic epistemic assumptions. I was caught between the blessed relief of ignorance and the jaws of a lioness who wanted to consume my mind.

I was so young, a man in name only. Too young, to possess the experience to recognise the predation in your eyes. Had I known where your casual and sadistic questioning of my core ideology would lead me, I would have left you to dance alone under the strobing lights, a momentary acknowledgment of your beauty enough to satiate my unexplored desire. 

I felt it in my body, a visceral physical discomfort as my world view was scrutinised. Under constant attack, I failed time and again to repudiate your claims. You asked questions my absent mind had never considered, all I knew to be true slipping away with each passing moment. 

I was overcome, lain bare. Exposed. The catastrophic shift of consciousness slowly revealing the fatal flaws of my core foundational beliefs. 

I see, now, the horror of the seed you planted that night, slowly growing in my mind. Twisting and coiling around synapses like a cancerous growth. 

That very day, in dawns twilight, 

I was crucified,

you murdered me,

for your sins.

Eviscerated my tether to the world I once new.

I resent you, for relinquishing me from ignorance. A drug dealer by any other name. Yet instead of the delirium of heroin,

you tempted me with knowledge. 

Tainted me with curiosity. As if your very hands pushed the needle into my arm, injecting me with an inexhaustible want for truth. Never satiated, always needing more.

Breathless, dazed and confused, the sun peaking across the horizon, you hurried to leave my corpse. Yet not before a final act of malignancy. The leather bound pages of The Republic gently placed into my hands, a free sample, a taste, to feed my inevitable addiction. 

As you abandoned me to my plight, I had no idea, that at that very moment, you stole from me a lifetime of blessed simplicity. A peace I can never return to. 

For now I understand, that you cannot un-know, you can never go back.

Plato’s words as you claimed were to be my gateway to a “higher” form of knowledge. 

Yet it was a poison chalice. A pandoras box, merely the first of a litany of absurd profundities, each leading into another. A black hole of inescapable premises, contradiction and abstraction. 

My addiction grew, as you knew it would. Every “philosophers” words I imbibed took me further beyond the limits of rationality. Into a world of such utter incongruity that I could not turn back. 

It’s so clear now, Socrates drank the hemlock, not out of pride,

but exhaustion.

In time I learned, your gift of supposed wisdom bore nothing but the fruits of regret, sadness, frustration,

neurosis. 

You filled me with an indulgence for grandeur, yet what worth is a love of wisdom, when you exist in a world of madness. 

So now, in the aftermath of your vampires kiss, I bear the curse of liberation from my own ignorance. A blight that I now spread to any and all who will listen. 

For each infected victim, reduced to tears, to anger or resentment, to all those that I leave in my accursed wake, broken and shaking, 

I share your pestilence. 

Your “gift”

I hate you, for I have 

become you. 

Now, as you once did, I feed on the innocence of others naïveté, swallowing their beliefs, tempting, probing, challenging. Eager to witness their transition, to spread this senseless insanity, 

your wanton contagion. 

So I too, will feel…

a little,

less alone. 

I understand why you did this to me. For the greatest torture for any human, 

is exile. 

Just as you before me, I am now cursed with a loneliness so deep I can never be saved. Doomed to question all I see, forever separated from others by concepts only a fool would scrutinise, what only a madman would endure. 

You had no choice, a symptomatic response to the loss of all you too once believed. An enduring state of catatonic shock. Seeking comfort by sharing your mania.

Or maybe, It was simple destiny and without you, I may have lived a few more precious years,

from this tyranny. 

I lie here, awake and lucid, alone in the early hours of this solitary prison you have built for me. A black pit of the mind. 

Tortured, 

still, 

by the wickedness of your words spoken half a lifetime ago. 

No one, to share this blight. 

Here, now, your stigmata echo reverberates, a hangman’s noose around my neck. A slow death of the mind, merely another casualty of your provocative, enduring,

suicide seduction. 

I plead for rest, to dream of simpler things. When the world, 

briefly,

made sense.

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