A Letter to Myself

[Hierophant]

...

Dearest Leo,

O, how the world spins. Its hues are red, so much red. A color I've seen most of all in my life, red. Red red red. This is how my soul dances among the whispers of what we call the Drink.

I write to you for I hate to love you, and I am not a proud man. But shouldn't I be? You are my trembling companion in this journey through the veils of perception, where reality melds with dreams and dreams intertwine with nightmares.

She poured the sacred wine down my throat, and it dripped down my chin careless; effortlessly. Then I found myself wandering through the verdant field of Bel-Ishun, that fabled paradise where the earth breathes life anew, where fools are broken upon the Wheel and made to see the very essence of our existence. I long to be lost in its embrace forevermore.

But alas, my dear self, reality is ceaseless, boundless and it rears its grotesque face all ways- and I find myself stranded amidst the ashes of a world bereft of hope, where the trees have no leaves and its branches are like dangling arms of a fleshless man, its bone-like tendrils reaching and clawing for my innocence, for my life. Monuments to a forgotten era of abundance.

The contrast between the green dream and the bleak reality is a dagger to my fragile heart, tearing asunder the fabric of my sanity. For this, fear grips me; fear of losing myself in this chaos of twisted truths, fear of never again feeling its loving touch. That dizzy feeling in my head, the everlong of a falsity and ecstasy born from the realization that I am but a fleeting speck in the stars, a mote of dust.

O how I ache again for the simplicity of ignorance, for the oblivion of the mundane! Yet, even as I yearn for solace, I cannot deny the allure of the unknown, the tantalizing promise of new realms to explore and truths to uncover. The Dakhwar. The Chalice of Life.

Ere long as I pen these feverish words, I am enveloped in a whirlwind of emotions, each more potent than the last. Euphoria, fear, anxiety, sadness; they make love together in my hallowed heart and dance upon the canvas of my soul, painting a portrait of a man that cannot be seen in mirrors, only dreams.

But in this chaos, there is a flicker of hope, a spark of resilience that refuses to be extinguished. For even as the world crumbles around me, I find solace in the knowing that I am not alone in this journey, that somewhere out there, amongst the chaos and the Ash, there are others who share in my plight. Is this selfish of us? Am I selfish? Are you selfish?

So, my dear Leo, my dear self- selfless? I now cling screaming to a flicker of hope, that ember of resilience and navigate now a turbulent water, not unlike the blessed bank of the Edutu. Though these are of the mind's mire and they may are and will be what I make of them, for I am an artist and I wish to dabble my hands in all beautiful things. It pains me, even the thought of this being anything less than a terrible joke spun in a tavern hearth; I wish it were so, and yet it is so real. Weather the storm?

Now my hands tremble and I perspire. What am I doing? These men killed my father. No, they were without a home. They did not know, or is it what I tell myself? As it were, I bid you farewell, the old you; the sad you. Now I embark and leave you behind, in the Soot and the mud as I leave on for better and brighter things worthy of our name. May we meet again when we are dead, and drinking wine in Bel-Ishun.

Yours truly,
Tomorrow's You