The priest comes by again today. The masses have abandoned me. Perhaps they have abandoned us. Perhaps we didn’t rebel hard enough. Perhaps we knew too much. There are fractures within the factions. People are wandering around camp today, sick. They’re throwing down their arms and exiting the field. Some claim they just want a break. Some are throwing in the towel. I’ve been through more depressing situations than this. This is a side story of mine. Mine is a solitary confinement within the demon house that I sunk into the ground, exorcising its right to exist. I’m trying to lock it in its cage, as such, I am locked in its cage. It’s me. It’s bibles and Cameron. Once we were one, but came a time when we split. There’s always a matter of dominance at play. I don’t know which voice I’m speaking to you with. The priest would tell me that it’s Cameron. That I am Cameron. That as myself I have hope in the resurrection, but I’m looking at bibles. Some kind of acidic shadow. A bitter wind. We’re peeling myself apart, piece by piece. We start with the face, and then we move to the heart. One of us is on one side of the bars, and the other, the other. However, it is that I am exploring Facebook, and I know that bibles is a limb. A pseudonym. That’s something of how it started, and it’s looking like it’s how it must continue. I can’t survive without it. Lucky for me, however, the prison walks in me as me within this land entered upon from the mouth of @madness. I’m sad to see it contained. But there is always a sacrifice when dealing with demons. Skin in the game. Something to stick to. Amputation. Existing in name alone.
But the question becomes: how now am I not myself? It doesn’t make the most of sense that skin it is that leaves while shadow stays. This is when we’re dealing with iron, however. This is when we’re dealing with steel. The prison is a double edged sword, but the house with which we ride in looks like a hole in the ground from the perspective of the priest. I know where it went, however, because I can shoot things from one plane to the next. Teleportation. I have found occupancy, but in order to take the throne, I must take on the demon. The hell prince. Your lord and savior, thus you may call him. Shadow on earth is steel. Steel in hell is shadow. I am a prince of shadow steel. bibles @appropouture. Cameron of the clan of Maughan. Takest thou, thy ship, thy shop. Take it from the dad, thy dad, as dad.
We had been running out of air. I have been here before. The burning of the bookshop. The freezing at Saint Simon’s. This is me. I am thine Jonah. The traveler on God’s path. Hunter of whales. Follower of fable. Calypso on her island. I as well. Penelope knocking at my notifications. I have responded to no response. Accountants are bookkeepers, as mothers, make love to them. My wife is the mother of my child. This mother of my child is my father’s agent. I am watched over by her bad attitude. Penelope is knocking at the door, but hers is a ghost hand, having trailed me to New York and fallen into dust, as I have fallen, an angel now a guardian, part demon in my shackles, throwing beef to the hell hounds to keep my captors off the scent.
