Discourse to the Dead
Chapter I
Thoughts
My body is withering; I felt it.
Death is encroaching; I sensed it. Yet they are the least of my concerns. The
immediate threat - rather, the horror - I am fighting is far more imminent than
mere death and decay. ~My sanity is slipping from my grasp, even at this very
moment! Though I write calmly in the desperate attempt to ward off the Incoming,
my faculty of reason seems to fail me. Slowly, steadily, I hear Him coming,
speaking to my reason, trying to claim me his minion.
I know not what the Incoming is. And
perhaps I shall find out very soon. I just know that He is the counterpart of my
reasons. At the best of my times, it would come and make little suggestions to
me - temptations, temptations that would lure the ill-willed or the foolish.
Every now and then, I dispelled His presence with my great reason, "Be off,
demon!" And I would suppress His "suggestions" through logical discourse and
intellection. I have always claimed victory over that pathetic, evil being.
Little do I know what He is, who He is, and what He really wants. It has been
only a voice at the back of my ears until now. But now, He is coming.
So He has not given up despite His
successive failures throughout my life time. I am about to leave, and yet He
would not let me go alone. He wants that final victory. But victory for what and
through what? My body is too weak to follow His ill-suggestions, even if my
reason were to concede defeat. What does He want from a dying person? I shall
ask Him when He reaches my deathbed; that is, if He ever dares appear to me in
presence, not veiled in shadows as is His style for all these years. Perhaps He
is just a powerless wimp, wailing as the last desperate effort to disturb my
peace. If so, such pitiful imp! I shall pay no attention to Him.
But why is my sanity slipping away?
His Incoming and my gradual loss of rationality are not coincidental. Is this
what the process of death is like? This truly makes me uneasy; because I know
that if reason continues to leave me, I will soon be unable to think and ponder
all these things that I am telling. Soon, if this continues, I will become a
beast - merely feeling the uneasiness and pain without the how, why, what for,
or any other questions that attribute to my very self and very existence.
Ah! So I know what He wants now. He
wants my reason. He wants to turn me into a beast! He would display my reason as
a trophy, and leaving me to rot and die with a hollow body! I shall show Him
otherwise! What a shameless creature He is, daring to launch His final assault
whilst I am in my weakest state! For that, I shall maintain my grasp on reason.
I shall hold on tightly and lance Him through with it!
No! That way lies insanity. Let me
calm down.... So this is His power? He is at work even before He comes? Then he
must be a worthy adversary. Now let me think and picture this whole thing
clearly.