Status Updates From Celui qui revient

“I'd been standing in the middle of the column of the demonstrators, but when the bullets came flying, I turned and ran. That sublime feeling that I'd been tapping into, that enormous heart I'd felt briefly a part of, was smashed to pieces, strewn over the ground as so much rubbish.”

“I remember feeling that it was all right to die; I felt the blood of a hundred thousand hearts surging together into one enormous artery, fresh and clean ... the sublime enormity of a single heart, pulsing blood through that vessel and into my own. I dared to feel a part of it.”

“I looked on in silence as my face blackened and swelled, my features turned into festering ulcers, the contours that had defined me, that had given me clear edges, crumbled into ambiguity, leaving nothing that could be recognised as me.”

She was dead; she had died even before I had.
With neither tongue nor voice to carry it, my scream leaked out from me in a mess of blood and watery discharge. My soul-self had no eyes; where was the blood coming from, what nerve endings were sparking this pain? I stared at my unchanging face. My filthy hands were as still as ever. Over my fingernails, dyed a deep rust by watery blood, red ants were crawling, silent.