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I feel a little inspired by Fortune from MGS2, in a small way, so I'm going to write a little story type thing based on her, partly because it's intriguing about a woman who cannot die, and partly because I want to join in the story thing going on.:-) It's basically my thoughts of what it would be like.
--
The world flowed around her as she walked.
The woman who cannot die.
The crowd flowed around her, as if she did not exist. Perhaps she didn't. Was she the world, or did the world hsape himself around her. Did her soul vibrate in time with the beat of the universe. Everything reacted to her, and she didn't react to them. Death was all that interested her. Even the lowest form of life had more luck than her. To meet Death she would give it all. Even her soul. Why couldn't she die? What had she done wrong.
Around her feet the children walked. Walked, or danced in time with the beat of her soul. The soul that could not be extinguished. She walked, and they walked in time. Did they exist? Did she exist? What was sense? Thoughts bounced around her in the way bullets did. Thought was a gift. She wanted it taken away. She wanted it all taken away. And the children walked. Or danced. It didn't matter.
Nothing did. Except Death.
The trees moulded themselves around her. Why couldn't she die? Around her feet, the children danced. Shpuld she give them the gift that no-one could give her. Death is a drug tasted by those who do not deserve. She looked with eyes that no longer shone with the zest of life. Life...Someone had enjoyed that. Once. Was it her? Was she her anymore? Around her feet, the children danced. And she walked. Upwards, downwards, forwards, backwards. Direction was for the living. Did she still live? Jealously beyond the bounds of conception for those who had death, a present from God that went beyond nirvana.
The hill swirled at her feet. No more the children danced. Did they know what she desired? Had they recieved? her hands - red beat out a drumbeat at her temples. The gift she could not have had been given. Why? No more meaning - it did not matter.
The world is a delusion for those who like to be blind.
The world was at her feet. Should she sgive the world what it could not giver her? Around her feet, we all dance. And are given, in our turn, what we cannot give her. Generousity beyond bounds to give what cannot be had.
Eternity. Passing. What concept of time for one who will not acknowledge it?
Eventually, the gift she gives is given. At the last, a cry from something thought lost.
She lands on her knees, her bane flowing from her.
The woman who wants to live. She cannot.
--
--
The world flowed around her as she walked.
The woman who cannot die.
The crowd flowed around her, as if she did not exist. Perhaps she didn't. Was she the world, or did the world hsape himself around her. Did her soul vibrate in time with the beat of the universe. Everything reacted to her, and she didn't react to them. Death was all that interested her. Even the lowest form of life had more luck than her. To meet Death she would give it all. Even her soul. Why couldn't she die? What had she done wrong.
Around her feet the children walked. Walked, or danced in time with the beat of her soul. The soul that could not be extinguished. She walked, and they walked in time. Did they exist? Did she exist? What was sense? Thoughts bounced around her in the way bullets did. Thought was a gift. She wanted it taken away. She wanted it all taken away. And the children walked. Or danced. It didn't matter.
Nothing did. Except Death.
The trees moulded themselves around her. Why couldn't she die? Around her feet, the children danced. Shpuld she give them the gift that no-one could give her. Death is a drug tasted by those who do not deserve. She looked with eyes that no longer shone with the zest of life. Life...Someone had enjoyed that. Once. Was it her? Was she her anymore? Around her feet, the children danced. And she walked. Upwards, downwards, forwards, backwards. Direction was for the living. Did she still live? Jealously beyond the bounds of conception for those who had death, a present from God that went beyond nirvana.
The hill swirled at her feet. No more the children danced. Did they know what she desired? Had they recieved? her hands - red beat out a drumbeat at her temples. The gift she could not have had been given. Why? No more meaning - it did not matter.
The world is a delusion for those who like to be blind.
The world was at her feet. Should she sgive the world what it could not giver her? Around her feet, we all dance. And are given, in our turn, what we cannot give her. Generousity beyond bounds to give what cannot be had.
Eternity. Passing. What concept of time for one who will not acknowledge it?
Eventually, the gift she gives is given. At the last, a cry from something thought lost.
She lands on her knees, her bane flowing from her.
The woman who wants to live. She cannot.
--
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I feel a little inspired by Fortune from MGS2, in a small way, so I'm going to write a little story type thing based on her, partly because it's intriguing about a woman who cannot die, and partly because I want to join in the story thing going on.:-) It's basically my thoughts of what it would be like.
--
The world flowed around her as she walked.
The woman who cannot die.
The crowd flowed around her, as if she did not exist. Perhaps she didn't. Was she the world, or did the world hsape himself around her. Did her soul vibrate in time with the beat of the universe. Everything reacted to her, and she didn't react to them. Death was all that interested her. Even the lowest form of life had more luck than her. To meet Death she would give it all. Even her soul. Why couldn't she die? What had she done wrong.
Around her feet the children walked. Walked, or danced in time with the beat of her soul. The soul that could not be extinguished. She walked, and they walked in time. Did they exist? Did she exist? What was sense? Thoughts bounced around her in the way bullets did. Thought was a gift. She wanted it taken away. She wanted it all taken away. And the children walked. Or danced. It didn't matter.
Nothing did. Except Death.
The trees moulded themselves around her. Why couldn't she die? Around her feet, the children danced. Shpuld she give them the gift that no-one could give her. Death is a drug tasted by those who do not deserve. She looked with eyes that no longer shone with the zest of life. Life...Someone had enjoyed that. Once. Was it her? Was she her anymore? Around her feet, the children danced. And she walked. Upwards, downwards, forwards, backwards. Direction was for the living. Did she still live? Jealously beyond the bounds of conception for those who had death, a present from God that went beyond nirvana.
The hill swirled at her feet. No more the children danced. Did they know what she desired? Had they recieved? her hands - red beat out a drumbeat at her temples. The gift she could not have had been given. Why? No more meaning - it did not matter.
The world is a delusion for those who like to be blind.
The world was at her feet. Should she sgive the world what it could not giver her? Around her feet, we all dance. And are given, in our turn, what we cannot give her. Generousity beyond bounds to give what cannot be had.
Eternity. Passing. What concept of time for one who will not acknowledge it?
Eventually, the gift she gives is given. At the last, a cry from something thought lost.
She lands on her knees, her bane flowing from her.
The woman who wants to live. She cannot.
--
--
The world flowed around her as she walked.
The woman who cannot die.
The crowd flowed around her, as if she did not exist. Perhaps she didn't. Was she the world, or did the world hsape himself around her. Did her soul vibrate in time with the beat of the universe. Everything reacted to her, and she didn't react to them. Death was all that interested her. Even the lowest form of life had more luck than her. To meet Death she would give it all. Even her soul. Why couldn't she die? What had she done wrong.
Around her feet the children walked. Walked, or danced in time with the beat of her soul. The soul that could not be extinguished. She walked, and they walked in time. Did they exist? Did she exist? What was sense? Thoughts bounced around her in the way bullets did. Thought was a gift. She wanted it taken away. She wanted it all taken away. And the children walked. Or danced. It didn't matter.
Nothing did. Except Death.
The trees moulded themselves around her. Why couldn't she die? Around her feet, the children danced. Shpuld she give them the gift that no-one could give her. Death is a drug tasted by those who do not deserve. She looked with eyes that no longer shone with the zest of life. Life...Someone had enjoyed that. Once. Was it her? Was she her anymore? Around her feet, the children danced. And she walked. Upwards, downwards, forwards, backwards. Direction was for the living. Did she still live? Jealously beyond the bounds of conception for those who had death, a present from God that went beyond nirvana.
The hill swirled at her feet. No more the children danced. Did they know what she desired? Had they recieved? her hands - red beat out a drumbeat at her temples. The gift she could not have had been given. Why? No more meaning - it did not matter.
The world is a delusion for those who like to be blind.
The world was at her feet. Should she sgive the world what it could not giver her? Around her feet, we all dance. And are given, in our turn, what we cannot give her. Generousity beyond bounds to give what cannot be had.
Eternity. Passing. What concept of time for one who will not acknowledge it?
Eventually, the gift she gives is given. At the last, a cry from something thought lost.
She lands on her knees, her bane flowing from her.
The woman who wants to live. She cannot.
--