You’re such a wonderful person
But you got problems
~ David Bowie ‘Breaking Glass’ 1977
But you got problems
~ David Bowie ‘Breaking Glass’ 1977
 |
| Siren ~ Glasha Gurinova |
Empathy ceases to exist at this frequency of stimulus; at the temperature of blood as it leaves the body. Empathy dies in the puddles that coagulate on cold white marble floors.
Ellie’s heart tries to grab at empathy’s fleeing skirt, but manages only to clutch the emptiness that remains. Echoes of all the things she’s taken; from her mama; from those who’ve called her friend or collaborator or lover or mentor.
She leaves the last of the pink and blue pastel bedrooms and slumps down the wallpapered corridor, her shoulder leaving a black smear in the dim glow from the nightlights overhead. She’s a long way from when she’d taken Eva from Metal. She’d been close to it then; close to empathy; the current she’s been swimming against all her life; now she feels close to the mouth of that river; swept down; lost the motivation that, in Metal, had had some solid core; some value to it. Here she feels no motivation to prove herself human, here where there is no moral purchase, no fingerhold on the hard face of her ascent. And if one of these cowering victims had thought to ask her “why?” she’d not have been able to answer.
The cause has been lost to the effect.
The motivation swallowed by the act.
Ellie’s heart tries to grab at empathy’s fleeing skirt, but manages only to clutch the emptiness that remains. Echoes of all the things she’s taken; from her mama; from those who’ve called her friend or collaborator or lover or mentor.
She leaves the last of the pink and blue pastel bedrooms and slumps down the wallpapered corridor, her shoulder leaving a black smear in the dim glow from the nightlights overhead. She’s a long way from when she’d taken Eva from Metal. She’d been close to it then; close to empathy; the current she’s been swimming against all her life; now she feels close to the mouth of that river; swept down; lost the motivation that, in Metal, had had some solid core; some value to it. Here she feels no motivation to prove herself human, here where there is no moral purchase, no fingerhold on the hard face of her ascent. And if one of these cowering victims had thought to ask her “why?” she’d not have been able to answer.
The cause has been lost to the effect.
The motivation swallowed by the act.
| David Bowie | ||
| Breaking Glass | ||
2 comments:
Nice bllog post
Thanks Tasobi :)
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