Hora de Vermibus

 

Soft sponges. A pillow. Silence. A white room. Steel grates. Teeth-scraped paint. A windowsill. A table. A chair. Integral with the floor. First time?

I've never just been somewhere inside, never outside, I've been living for a long time, always, it's such a strange word, abstract, unreal, don't think about it, I am, I am, and that's important, listen, learn, understand, stop, because there's no point in all this, why are you asking, I'm helping you, it's always been like this, it's like this, always in the past, it might be a good word, always in the future, it's a lie, yes, I'm standing here, and you're looking at me, but no one else, I'm outside, it's my image, my image from your head, yes, you see me, even though I don't have a form, a shape, a form, a center, yes, you can create me, just like I created you, you can summon me, I can finally return here, so many years, boredom, so boring, here, in this darkness, cold and gray, just this darkness, such gray nonsense, with this darkness, cold, gray, empty, sad, yes, sadness is what exists, what never changes, and that's how we are sad, whether we want it or not, because sadness is not born, it doesn't die, it exists, and it can't be destroyed if I'm not there, yes, call me, call me, because you need me and I need you, they'll bring you materials, summon me then, even in this primitive way. you will call me with a fetish and I will come your lifelong friend lord ruler and servant at the same time stretch out your hand and start creating so they will give you white and beautiful paper and they will also give you colored crayons and take these crayons and create me anew with these crayons never stop because you can't give up stop without you I will die and I have to come back too much evil bitterness and sadness let me take it into myself experience purification so I keep talking to you your eyes don't be afraid of all this hear the music close your eyes take a blue crayon and start the outline start my eye with a gold crayon and green and red because it starts with the eye I have eyes here and inside and I am full of eyes and kidneys and take a black crayon and draw my kidney because my kidney is yours and others and I see everything inside the mechanical kidneys that I absorb live in me I give life new life and I absorb and grow with each day you draw me you will see me and then there will be joy and celebration because I will return my image with Your crayons created such a mechanical creature, I love you, you know, I talk about it and I feel it, I'll come

. She smiled.

"I brought you something. You'll be happy. See.

Paper and colored crayons.

" "Isn't it pretty? You'll have something to occupy yourself with. Now that you're so calm. See. It's spring outside the window. The season of life. Draw something pretty."

I nod. I wait for it to come out. The crayons are so strange to the touch. Juicy. The paper is soft and delicate. I draw the first line. Blue. Beautiful shape. Slender.

You're driving a car, a bus, a train, and there the world is passing you by, everything is rushing by, and you're standing still, and there's silence. There are trees shaking the outside, piercing the sky. Cars whistling alone, only next to you their lights flash. And what you see and feel so bad is sadness. They're to blame. This is sadness. This is sadness. There won't be any happiness and celebration when I'm there. I have an eye, and I thank you. So I stand here, look, I'm looking through the bars, bitten by my teeth. Many have tried but couldn't, they didn't have something. You have something. Look how beautiful my figure will be. So take a red and gold outline. This is a wound. I will emerge from it. From a golden wound, perfection will emerge. Joy and celebration. And create a hand for me so I can caress your head. And create legs for me so I can move beside you. And create a body for me, a beautiful body, so you can touch all of me and be happy. And so I can touch your body and be happy. And take a dark crayon. Take it from me, darker than the darkness, than the gray darkness that surrounds me. And draw me wings so beautiful, so shiny wings. And luminous so I can rise, I'll give you wings, you'll rise with me, and the pounding of rain on tin windowsills will cease, cars won't whistle and hum, people won't stink next to you, and the world will ache, and draw a black sign, a circle sign, curved in two places, and color it red. The world is full of colors. You hear buzzing bees and dead flies. Green eyes, shining, strange, they stare still. No one knows how. This is my picture. Your bees will die, and then the flies will buzz. Bodies covered with them like a thick autumn cloak. The rain is falling heavily, it will be dead bees and hornets will fall from the sky. The protection I will give everyone who knows and hears. Dead flies lie on the windowsill. On the other side, you can't see, but you will see. They lie motionless. Small bodies crushed with a terrifying crunch. The worm comes, shifts its legs, twists, and bends. The devourer of everything

. - Nice. What is it?

I'm silent.

- Will you tell me? I'd like to know?

- This.

"So what?

" "This. Nice. Spring. Life."

He shudders slightly. His nostrils widen. He looks at me, at the drawing, at the circle sign.

"I'm sure the doctor would like to see it too. What do you say?

A fake smile. Hypocrisy. He'll take it anyway. But it's too late. I already had a crayon in my hand, darker than darkness. A dead fly fell on the windowsill."

They will come again but don't be afraid, it's already over, time is just a time that doesn't exist and doesn't exist. It remains patient. Because the hour of buzzing flies is coming. A strange liquid pours from the bodies of bees when they die and the crunch of the colorful shell is ineffective. The trees rustle like that in the evenings only then does this night wind, the quintessence of sound, beauty, cut the light with its night branches, bring shade to the brightness. The black bird is silent. Children at night walk so quietly. They know what is and what hides in the darkness but children are soon children then they forget but I am still there and I am waiting but now not now not anymore because you wake me and the sadness will end. The black birds will fly away. The feathers will fly away only after them will remain old and ruined. People will fall on the sidewalks. Fluffy carpets and tiles and flies will come. The hour of buzzing will lick the bodies clean. It will end with sucking. Caterpillars and spiders will emerge from human shoes. Kitchen corners. Old newspapers in trash cans and basements. They will quietly walk on their shaggy legs. They will intertwine. There will be a net that will cover and obscure the sun, gray and sticky, and we will rejoice and be glad as after a great rain earthworms will crawl out of the earth, and no angry shoe will trample them. These are my offspring that crush the heels and poison the kidneys and hearts. There will be eyes all around and inside there will be eyes, because we are full of eyes, and the apple has rotted and a worm has crawled out of it, and white worms with black heads will speak through human lips, and here comes the festival of life. Don't look, don't remember, because it's not worth remembering. Faces fade anyway, only empty faces without noses, eyes, or mouths. Pale specks somewhere in the distance. Why look at them? Pale specks cannot speak, listen, touch, look. We can and want to. And so all this will soon change color and a new color will flood the world. Not a single tree will remain that could cut the night. The locusts will devour everything that lives, a leaf, a tiny leaf, and flowers that are flowers, and bees fly around the flowers, and the mantis, which is a flower that is not a flower, has beautiful eyes and hands, slender fingers, and devours the living. and the spider sucks slowly and the fly dissolves and the centipede spins, the devourer shifts its legs, jaws crackle, human bones, a triangular tooth and a circle crooked in two places

- I saw your picture. Very nice colors.

- Thank you.

- What is it?

- Him. Life and happiness.

- Oh... That's nice. The nurse told me it was something strange. And who is he?

- Him.

- What does that mean?

- The one who talks to me.

- Mhm. And when does he talk? Like before?

- Yes. Often. When I'm alone and when there's sadness inside me. And he takes away that sadness.

- That's good. That's very good. But there are other ways to take away sadness. You don't need someone who lives only in your head.

- But he's not in my head. Not anymore.

- No?

He seems happy. A fool.

- No.

- And why?

"I was given crayons and I made a picture of him. He's not in me. He stands by the window and says. And then we'll go.

" "And where will you go?"

I remain silent. They don't know. No one knows. They won't understand.

"Can I have the picture and my crayons?"

He sighs.

"Yes. Yes, I think nothing stands in the way.

Yes, the world is full of unbelievers, but it's not faith that matters, it's not the mind that matters, it's action, it's action that determines who you are, but don't worry, let a smile appear on your face, because the Hour is near, yes, we will come, the wound in the world opens slowly and golden, finish my picture, my reflection, my figure, yes, take the crayons and paint over the holes and gaps, yes, oh, so beautiful, it is, and now only one thing is needed, the last sacrifice, a small sacrifice, paint over, yes, paint over my eyes and my figure, and create for me red lips, yes, blood, yes, a drop, yes, another, yes,

They're calling for someone. The buzzer. What irony.

"Quick! He's done something to himself!"

I am beautiful, thanks to you, my wings are beautiful, delicate, and the rainbow is reflected in them, and purple and red and blue and green, and they are beautiful, they will carry me in the air, they buzz, their music is beautiful.

Someone leans over me. A dark figure.

- He had nothing sharp! How is that?

The voices fade. Like in a box, somewhere far away.

And my legs are beautiful, slender, and hooks on them are curved, and there are six pairs of them so I can run, black, they float on them, when I'm not flying, light as a feather, I am like this, I will take a step with these legs, and then we will all enter, and then I will thank you, so beautifully, I will thank you, the devourer is hovering by my side, impatient, and the spider, the fly, and the mantis, and they are waiting, we all gathered at my feet, which are from you, and the wound slowly opens, golden blood flows from reality

- Fuck! He bit through... He bit through!

- ...So much blood.

- Hold it! Hold it! Higher up the wound! -

Bind it!

- Tighter!

- Yes!

The voices fade. They are almost gone.

and you gave me a beautiful body made of three bodies and my head is beautiful, full of eyes, and inside my eyes and mouth are beautiful to bite, tear, and devour, and my second body is beautiful, and there is my heart and my kidneys, and there a new body will be born from my body, and I have a beautiful ending, and the sting in it is to strike with it the dark and sad hearts, and we will drive our stings into the evil, the hurt, and the unhappy, and the festival of life will begin, and OH COME MY CHILDREN, YES OUR TIME HAS COME, COME VIRGIN, COME SPIDER, COME FLY, COME PANTHIS

- Okay... Restrained. Bring the stretcher here. Oh... Oh fuck...

- What?

- What is that?

- What?

- Over there! See? Outside the window... Look.

- Jesus...

- What is that?

- The sound... I can't... stand it!

- This... Buzzing!

- Look! Here! God! No...No...No...It doesn't exist....

Silence.

And now the festival of life has come and there are no more obstacles and there will be no toasts, prayers and songs will be offered to us. This is the fiesta. Feed yourself, spider. Sneak into human hearts, dark, false and evil, and poison them with your venom. Rush, mantis. Stand on the border of darkness, keeper of happiness, and do not let anyone get close to the darkness or escape the spider's venom. Fly. Cover the bodies of their false, evil, and insidious ones. Lick the blood, sweat, and hypocritical tears. Cover their eyes. HANDS AND HEARTS COLLECT SO THAT IT DISAPPEARS FROM THIS WORLD BEHOLD THE DAY OF HAPPINESS AND CELEBRATION HAS COME AND YOU WIJU DEVOURER OF WORLDS LOOK AT WHAT HAS HAPPENED BEHOLD YOU WERE AND ARE AND WILL DEVOUR EVIL AND FALSE AND HYPOCISM IN THEIR MINDS HEARTS SOULS UNTIL THE WORLD IS CLEAN AND THERE IS NO JOY HAPPINESS AND CELEBRATION AND RISE MY LAST APOSTOLE WITHOUT BLOOD FOR WE WILL GIVE YOU OUR BLOOD AND OUR BODY AND OUR MIND AND YOU WILL BE THE MESSENGER OUR MESSENGER OF THE COMING DUSK AND DAWN AND HAPPINESS WARN ALL NOT TO GO WHERE FEAR HAS ITS LIE BECAUSE THERE IS ALSO HYPOCOLATION AND ANGER AND SADNESS RUN MY CHILDREN AND FULFILL MY WILL FOR I HAVE SAID SO THIS IS THE WILL OF YOUR LORD OF THE CIRCLE CURVED IN TWO PLACES