The Crushed Wraith

wraithThe irony is that the Wraith is lucid as a man. It took last night’s sleep plus a nap this afternoon, but the Wraith is thinking clearly.

Not that it matters in the slightest.

The man is continually crushed, so that the Wraith is the only escape.

The man cannot do anything right, or at least it seems that way. The man must live in community, and the only escape is the Wraith.

The Wraith does not crave community. The Wraith craves solitude. Solitude means peace. Community means war, but a war in which the man is forbidden to defend himself.

The Wraith seeks solitude and even when he is the man, the man seeks solitude.

If only humans were not contentious. If only the humans didn’t seek to destroy.

Humans in general are destructive, but the ones you live with are the most destructive of all.

Humans in general can destroy your body, but the ones you live with destroy your soul.

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The Wraith

shadow man

Image: jimharold.com

The wraith arises when it’s quiet and peaceful. When others are not near or when they still sleep. The wraith does not care if others are near as long as they are unconscious.

Precious is the wraith’s time of peace. All too soon, the others will return or they will arise. In either case, peace will turn to chaos, silent joy to suffering and turmoil.

There is no hunger for the wraith when it is quiet. There is no desire for sustenance. Only the calm of being neither hungry nor full, merely satisfied, as if there were no such thing as desire.

Near the open windows, the air is cool, but the wraith must not leave the protection of these walls. The cool air is pleasant, but the sky is too bright, too painful for his eyes. The beauty of green can only be enjoyed from within the shadows.

The wraith bleeds, not all the time, but periodically. The injury was deliberate, to correct a greater injury, but recovery is slow. The wraith does as he can to slowly purge old blood and mucus, but it reforms. How much of this is left for the wraith to endure?

Footsteps. Chaos returns. If he is minimalist, perhaps the others will be minimalist as well and not overly address the wraith.

The wraith has almost no voice. He wishes this of the others as well, not because they speak ill of him, but because they speak to him at all. When they speak, the peace recedes. He must leave his own mind. He must consider the thoughts of others rather than his own pain.

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