Kraken 6/12/2018 marte
You are sitting in a completely dark room.
A voice that comes from the entire room. It surrounds you. There are speakers under the raisers, so your seat vibrates with some words. Its like the surroundings are talking to you. The sound and pronunciation is odd. Kind of like when a computer is reading a text, but it doesn’t sound robotic at all. Just off. Ancient and brand new at the same time. If it has a gender its female, but its hard to tell. Also it sounds like talking under water somehow. Or when listening inside the body with a doppler.
KRAKEN:
mmmmmmWe are the one you know. Deep down in wet, slippery blackness there is everything. There is me and all that I possess. There is all that you gave to me; beer bottles, rusty wheels, unwanted kittens, plastic bags. So many beautiful plastic bags. There is every gift that is to come. Your precious sacrifices that becomes just more of me, and we and us, even if you never intended it that way.
I drift these days.
With my arms and fingers gently stretched out in rivers, I’m pulling your debris from the mainland. You once named my little finger Nessy. I find that very charming. Mmmmmm. You humans are cute.
Breathing. Shifting somehow[me1] .
My kingdom of things you don’t want is mighty, and soon we don’t need you around here anymore. We can breathe and breed, and yes, as you can hear; We talk. We talk your nonsense. For now. Mmmmmm..
Words are nasty little things. (Kraken is tasting this). Tasty little nasty things. mmmmm
You like words, don’t you? You think words are only yours. Words give you the power to sit on top and pull the flesh of your relatives. And you call us monsters.
I think its funny. You forgot about us. You wanted to forget about me. You wanted us to not exist, so you made up new religions, gave us new names. Locked us away in your imaginations for only to play with the evil dead, unbaptized babies and women who succumbed in childbirth.
But they don’t come to us. Dead people don’t swim, they just go with the flow, follow the undertow. I’m not interested in their company. I’m resting.
You may say
And all the while you thought you were killing us, slowly suffocating and distorting us with your inventions, you were making me stronger. (shifting) And larger, and more beautiful.
Deep down in the mud I’m buried, hidden away in my heavy, weightless rest. I am dreaming of when I will wake up, a massive mound of salty flesh. Muscles tucked into my own slippery cavities will stretch out. I will taste the mainland, lick the surface with my skin to make sure you are all gone.
And then we will try life all over again.
You are sitting in a completely dark room.
A voice that comes from the entire room. It surrounds you. There are speakers under the raisers, so your seat vibrates with some words. Its like the surroundings are talking to you. The sound and pronunciation is odd. Kind of like when a computer is reading a text, but it doesn’t sound robotic at all. Just off. Ancient and brand new at the same time. If it has a gender its female, but its hard to tell. Also it sounds like talking under water somehow. Or when listening inside the body with a doppler.
KRAKEN:
mmmmmmWe are the one you know. Deep down in wet, slippery blackness there is everything. There is me and all that I possess. There is all that you gave to me; beer bottles, rusty wheels, unwanted kittens, plastic bags. So many beautiful plastic bags. There is every gift that is to come. Your precious sacrifices that becomes just more of me, and we and us, even if you never intended it that way.
I drift these days.
With my arms and fingers gently stretched out in rivers, I’m pulling your debris from the mainland. You once named my little finger Nessy. I find that very charming. Mmmmmm. You humans are cute.
Breathing. Shifting somehow[me1] .
My kingdom of things you don’t want is mighty, and soon we don’t need you around here anymore. We can breathe and breed, and yes, as you can hear; We talk. We talk your nonsense. For now. Mmmmmm..
Words are nasty little things. (Kraken is tasting this). Tasty little nasty things. mmmmm
You like words, don’t you? You think words are only yours. Words give you the power to sit on top and pull the flesh of your relatives. And you call us monsters.
I think its funny. You forgot about us. You wanted to forget about me. You wanted us to not exist, so you made up new religions, gave us new names. Locked us away in your imaginations for only to play with the evil dead, unbaptized babies and women who succumbed in childbirth.
But they don’t come to us. Dead people don’t swim, they just go with the flow, follow the undertow. I’m not interested in their company. I’m resting.
You may say
And all the while you thought you were killing us, slowly suffocating and distorting us with your inventions, you were making me stronger. (shifting) And larger, and more beautiful.
Deep down in the mud I’m buried, hidden away in my heavy, weightless rest. I am dreaming of when I will wake up, a massive mound of salty flesh. Muscles tucked into my own slippery cavities will stretch out. I will taste the mainland, lick the surface with my skin to make sure you are all gone.
And then we will try life all over again.