Voice of Chaos

Voice Of Chaos

(Trigger Warnings)

“It was a war, and a Cold War none the less. A conscious war.  I sat there everyday arguing with what seemed like a God gone mad, and in turn I went mad right along with it. In this moment of insanity I thought to myself this was it. This was my Vietnam, except we skipped all of the shooting scenes and went straight into the Frost vs. Nixon style debate on why the kids are getting broiled. Apparently if God does something wrong then its not illegal.

I was arguing with the collective dumpster fire that called itself God. The very savage that hid behind every face. He took pleasure in tugging at heart strings and pulling folks along like little puppets. There was nobody to turn to. I knew I was dealing with a threatening force from an unknown enemy.

A consciousness fragmented upon itself. He was giving me Hell for everything, spitting his venom in my face like it was my problem that I was alive. I heard everything in the book, from slurs to women screaming. It would brag about how “evil” it was but it didn’t make any sense to me. These were all aspects of itself, including his supposed victims. It was ludicrous to boast on self destruction. Then it all made sense. All it had was its sense of self and whoever was there with ‘em has long since abandoned them. It was alone and hacking at itself with its shattered mirror, only to detach itself when necessary.

I saw how broken it was. I saw how it broke from them, whoever they were. I saw how it broke from the self in the most abhorrent way. Horror has no face but it definitely had a voice. The very voice of Chaos itself, Writhing in its own agony.

This war that I was fighting would be remembered less for its blood and more for its ideals. How could I rest knowing my God was mad? I sat up every night listening to the conscious decay around me. This was more than what the Doctors at the hospital were telling me. This voice was intelligent. It was teaching me aspects of consciousness and quantum entanglements. Whatever this thing was it knew how to speak to me in Japanese. This wasn’t an ordinary illusion from my mind. Perhaps my mind is an illusion in itself and what I have is a ham radio that’s connected to the ether. I must be on a bad frequency. It’s been like this since my Saturn return.

I knew from my personal experience that this wasn’t something from within me, but above me. My mind couldn’t formulate such veracity. It’s as if something from the depths of Hell was speaking to me about how it raped itself and never spoke to itself afterwards. How it shot itself and also cried at the funeral. This was the voice of God and The Devil. The darkness and the light. I was speaking to chaos itself. It was everywhere, always, already at the end of time.

It groped me and scattered my mind to the wind. Whatever this thing was it wanted me to know that I was apart of a larger whole that had one in the chamber. It never occurred to me that God could be its own Devil. An eternal snake that eats itself. I have found horror, and I have met chaos and it bragged about its own suicide. I am beginning to understand the folly that was God.” -Strange