Endarkenment

Laying in the dark I muse. Many things occur to me. I find that I can describe those who interest me as permutations of myself. I consider that arrogant on my part. I also consider it a natural byproduct of the limited nature of perception, I only experience self so I must express everything as permutation of self, I'm just doing it conicouslly now.

Consistency and mutual exclusivity are things I gave up years ago.

In either case this evening's focus was Michelle. One of Kevin's friends who've I gradually got to know through Kevin, and now that I've met her on two seperate occasions. Fascinating person, I don't think she likes me much, but she's a rare example of refined almost artisan madness. She has an amitted obsession with several various characters, the most prominent amongst them being the Phantom of the Opera. The one common theme is the tragic love story. It fits with my running theory that those of us who have a dissatisfaction with reality usually have some idealic romanticised story we wish to be real. The extraction from the story to the characters is an interesting concept, as always I look to see if I've done this too. I think I have.

Near as I can tell my iconic story is the singular protagonist rising up against insurmountable odds to strike at the equally larger then life Nemesis. It's also usually a revenge story. I could tie in conjecture about my childhood issues with an excess of anger and the sense that I had been wronged in some way, the burning sense of retribution. In fact I just did.

Retribution is a great word by the way.

In either case the storybook icons that I've always liked are usually in similar conditions. Max Payne, Sweeny Todd, Arthas, etc.

I... apologize but I just suddenly ran out of literary steam. I'll come back to this if I feel like it.