Post by Hyperion on Feb 4, 2009 21:48:15 GMT -5
A boy awakes at midnight, in a room he does not quite recall. A child walks home from somewhere indistinct, with a problem impossible to solve. Meanwhile, the vultures await, and an ever-present entity makes itself known to you. Welcome to the world of Tock, where only two things can be proven. A consciousness, and its enemy.
Tock.
What is madness? Those who don’t experience it do not know. But how is one to know if one should know? Therein lies the darkness: Madness is not a corruption of the senses, but of the will. There is little illusion within insanity: it only helps to heighten the chaos! Madness is the petty made important, and the ghastly made sensible.
To understand madness, one must know its antithesis: Madness and illusion are not the same; it is not the opposite of reality. We must never forget that to live freely in a dream, with your own mind intact, is immeasurably superior than to live in a harsh reality, with a mind unable to comprehend its very own thoughts. A dream is the deception of a god. Madness is the deception of your own consciousness.
Pity those who are lost to us, lost to themselves. For you, yourself, are your most valued possession, and must be guarded over life itself. Pity the lost, and be certain that you are not among them.
But how is one to be certain? The darkness deepens! What defines sanity is the question. For if one is touched by this plague, they would not know themselves to be afflicted. How does one guard against your mind, your will? If sanity is the majority vote, who is the electorate? Do they even exist?
What madness does is to destroy the only proof you can ever hold true: “I think, therefore I am.”
Without self awareness, without knowledge of your own motives, your very soul is gone, evaporated into the fragments of what was once your mind.
Fortunately, the very quintessential postulates that reassure you of your existence can warn you of your fall. The knowledge, the ability to think as oneself safeguards your will. But even that is corrupted. All can be corrupted.
This tale is not of madness, it is of the avoidance thereof. For the question lies no longer with your own existence, but of everything else. One knows of their self, but of nothing else. Is the world of a god? Is it of a natural process? Or is it of one’s own mind, locked away in a part that isn’t quite you? One can only know that you do not, therefore, one more proof is made:
“I do not know, therefore something else is.”
If so, what are its motives? Does it have motives? Is it here to torture you, or teach you? If you ever shall “wake” from this illusion, how should you know that you have truly done so? Is there even a difference between illusion and reality? Once again, reality is determined by majority decision.
Once again, does the majority even exist?
Returning to yourself, who are you? Are you your beliefs, your faith, your wisdom, or your memories? All can be falsified. Are you your will, governing over your dark desires? Or are you your dreams, your instincts, which form your opinions? Remember, “you” are a single conscious unit, observing the world, and perhaps even observing your own thoughts. Another question arises: How much control do you wield over your mind? Over the world, the illusion? Does this unit of mind have a purpose? Is it able to fulfill its purpose? Is it the purpose you want?
I bring you to the final conflict: That of what is known, and that which isn’t. Finally, it brings us to the very beginning: The creation of consciousness, and its reason.
Our story begins thus, at midnight:
A boy with an uncertain past, within a house of uncertain location. He sleeps restlessly, for in the very back of his mind, unbeknownst to him, a song is slowly repeating itself.
The song grows louder.
Tock.
What is madness? Those who don’t experience it do not know. But how is one to know if one should know? Therein lies the darkness: Madness is not a corruption of the senses, but of the will. There is little illusion within insanity: it only helps to heighten the chaos! Madness is the petty made important, and the ghastly made sensible.
To understand madness, one must know its antithesis: Madness and illusion are not the same; it is not the opposite of reality. We must never forget that to live freely in a dream, with your own mind intact, is immeasurably superior than to live in a harsh reality, with a mind unable to comprehend its very own thoughts. A dream is the deception of a god. Madness is the deception of your own consciousness.
Pity those who are lost to us, lost to themselves. For you, yourself, are your most valued possession, and must be guarded over life itself. Pity the lost, and be certain that you are not among them.
But how is one to be certain? The darkness deepens! What defines sanity is the question. For if one is touched by this plague, they would not know themselves to be afflicted. How does one guard against your mind, your will? If sanity is the majority vote, who is the electorate? Do they even exist?
What madness does is to destroy the only proof you can ever hold true: “I think, therefore I am.”
Without self awareness, without knowledge of your own motives, your very soul is gone, evaporated into the fragments of what was once your mind.
Fortunately, the very quintessential postulates that reassure you of your existence can warn you of your fall. The knowledge, the ability to think as oneself safeguards your will. But even that is corrupted. All can be corrupted.
This tale is not of madness, it is of the avoidance thereof. For the question lies no longer with your own existence, but of everything else. One knows of their self, but of nothing else. Is the world of a god? Is it of a natural process? Or is it of one’s own mind, locked away in a part that isn’t quite you? One can only know that you do not, therefore, one more proof is made:
“I do not know, therefore something else is.”
If so, what are its motives? Does it have motives? Is it here to torture you, or teach you? If you ever shall “wake” from this illusion, how should you know that you have truly done so? Is there even a difference between illusion and reality? Once again, reality is determined by majority decision.
Once again, does the majority even exist?
Returning to yourself, who are you? Are you your beliefs, your faith, your wisdom, or your memories? All can be falsified. Are you your will, governing over your dark desires? Or are you your dreams, your instincts, which form your opinions? Remember, “you” are a single conscious unit, observing the world, and perhaps even observing your own thoughts. Another question arises: How much control do you wield over your mind? Over the world, the illusion? Does this unit of mind have a purpose? Is it able to fulfill its purpose? Is it the purpose you want?
I bring you to the final conflict: That of what is known, and that which isn’t. Finally, it brings us to the very beginning: The creation of consciousness, and its reason.
Our story begins thus, at midnight:
A boy with an uncertain past, within a house of uncertain location. He sleeps restlessly, for in the very back of his mind, unbeknownst to him, a song is slowly repeating itself.
The song grows louder.