Even when tearing quietly and violently into the rib-caged breathing morsel of pulsating and vibrant blood-spewing and life-affirming resonance, the killer must respect the prey. All that falls must have run at sometime and the running is what it wants to contemplate in these final hours. It is likely that these last minutes might be as important as the first. Neither are to be remembered. They are too important and crucial. Memory is a human contraption and goes with the intermediate living. Birth and death are godly events. Gods don't pay much attention to memory. It would just cause them to second guess themselves. The birth of the universe happened everywhere at once. In your left eye. In your big toe. On the next street over. In the smallest crater on the smallest moon of Jupiter. Everywhere. At once.

Desire grows in direct proportion to willfulness. The gods notice but do not care all that much. Until that desire manifests itself as another hot breath on their windshield. It's a large car and it goes very fast, but seating is limited (in a confusing way). This is when the battle begins. A flagellating tail throws caution to the wind and does its best to recreate what the tail before him achieved.

Delusions of grandeur must necessarily accompany such an ambitious journey. It might be important to integrate ideas of immortality in order to achieve full congruence. One need not look any further than into the crack of a sidewalk in a busy city. See the spiny leaves growing in a space built for the sole purpose of keeping itself inert? How can that happen? Isn't it unnatural? It's so natural that you remember it most vividly when all other memory waves through your hyperextended forehead at this very minute.

It must have been Divine.

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