Words, I said so.

By Nephildevil

With the eyes in my head, I look at you.
Behind the mirrors that reflect the light of my vieuw, the Devil watches too.
What can He see as there is no light where He watches.

Nothing surely.

In Darkness one cannot see.
So does He.

Look inside yourself.
So does He.

You see you, your inner being.
So does He.

His inner being.
That is what I saw.
It was Me.
It was Hell on earth.
Hell on earth.
It was heaven to Me.
Heaven on earth.
I hated heaven, remember I was the Devil.
I fell to Hell.
Shit, back on the same earth.
It was heaven again.
I returned to Hell.
Heaven again.
Again Hell.
I was trapped.
Never could I escape.

Hell and Heaven.
It was the same.
It was where I was.
Where I was forever to be.

Eternal tragedy in frontal collision with eternal orgasm.

At once.
Perfect.
Like Me.

I made this world.
The earth.
The creator.

God or Devil.
The Perfect One.

Is Both.

Or simply the next one, who creates his or her world better.
More perfect.

The creation of the Perfect One.
But shall that be our earth ?

No, a better earth.

A different earth.

You will never know.
My world is the earth you know.

I said so.

Try better.
Just try...Creator of nothing.

...I can allways have another shot at creating something better.
You can allways try.
Should you be perfect.
You would have created Our world. Our earth.
You are allready there, fool.
It was Me who made it.
The Creator.
That is why I created fantasy.
All fantasy is My creation.
It is found on earth.
Inside your heads.
The heads I created.
Nobody is original on earth.
Nobody is special on earth.
I am nobody.

Nobody is everybody.

Who am I ?

I am myself.
And you are yourself.
We are simply different.
Because I said so.
Nobody is everybody and that should have been me ?
Nonsense, I do not exist.
That is clear.
...So how come you can see me ? Somebody, who wrote this, thought this. A very visible young man, who you might know very well.
A touchable, hitable, kickable, killable mortal.
...Only I know.
...Ask me.
...To know the complete answer, you have to know me. Really, really know me, know me very well. To know that you’ll have to be me.
...But then, who would you be ?
...Only I know.
...To know the complete answer, you’ll have to be you. Did you really think you were somebody else ?

That would be highly unrealistic thinking, now would it ? I created psychosis. People who think they are somebody else have a psychosis and can be called psychotics,... or madman, lunatics and other unpleasant sounding words like that.

...The One who wrote this is insane, totally flipped out...mad.
...I wrote this.
...Do you still want to be like me ?
...I think not.
...What if you still do ?
...Ask me.
...I can only answer with more madness.
...That is exactly what you have been reading.
...It is perfect.
...Madness... I said so... Deny Me.

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