An Open Letter to Fellows

I am a shadow to humans now. I was once something foreign that snuck from alleys and under beds to snatch at their souls and drink from their cups. 

First I was human, then I was what I am, and finally I am what I am now, which is what I was, but standing apart from the conscious world. To survive, I surround myself now with unconscious life - plants and gasses, flame and water; ironically, the language of ancient humanity. These many, lovely things I cannot sneak up on; these lovely things lack cups from which to drink.

 

The heaving, thudding, voracious stench of humanity once thronged at my nose, my mouth, my very skin until the bliss and temptation and agony of it became unbearable. I saw my few creaturous friends lose themselves to the madness of it. They were always destroyed - not by figures of myth and faithful good, but simple, humanic insanity. Some would flee after being caught with flesh between their teeth and find themselves smashed upon broken things, some cannibalised each other in confused, erotic hunger, and more than one simply became lost in the tenebrous wave of lust and smell that blinds the eye, unwittingly standing in their last sunrise. 

I felt the same madness coming upon me like the shadows I am to others, climbing up my legs and writhing beneath the skin. Killing, living, taking was just too… enthralling. I retreated. Without knowing if any were left, I retreated. I do not hear voices behind paper walls now, or the hum of cars and televisions, but I am surrounded by the whisper of trees and the conversations of birds. I cannot be entranced by the passionfruit vines along the side of my house - they have no cup to be tempted by. They are simply and truly my silent friends. Once, I would have them curl their tendrils around my finger to fill the void human touch once did, but now I do it for their company, not the ghostly, twisted dagger comfort of memory. Now, the lavender and roses and many floral and thrilling things around my home are the only perfumes that fill my nose, and they are ever so welcome. 

I am one of the oldest of my kind now, surviving almost fifteen years of this existence. I have survived by keeping my sanity not amongst the cattle of humanity but by befriending the near infinite other pieces of life that live in this world. Humans are not all that is. Do not be blinded by their false and maddening pleasures, children. 

Come, seek, and you will find me under the trees. 

Miles Foley, 08012024

Author's notes: 

- I hope you have a lovely day if you're reading this. 

- The last line is a reference to Damh the Bard's song 'Under the Trees', I just love that line.