Savior As Subjugator

To save someone is to subjugate them. After the monster is slain, a new one stands in its place.

The same pillar with a smiley face as graffiti, plushies with chains. The gargoyles all demolished, but under that rubble there’s some parasites twitching, tunneling new holes in the ground you’re walking in. Waiting to fall in.

To be saved implies a terminus; if you aren’t saved, what happens? Well, it’s the end. For someone else to step in and “relieve your burdens” only means you are stuck there, requiring your hero to be around indefinitely. As soon as they “leave”, you are back at square one again, aren’t you? You didn’t solve anything, only delayed the drowning.

And while your savior roams about, hinging all your hopes and fears upon him, so one seals off the alternative of standing alone. The world after salvation is a mere simulacra. Some strange playground where you’ll go insane, but blame yourself more.

The subjugation is silent, all encompassing. Resentment builds. Guilt and sickness too. The monster nests inside your head while your savior smiles at you. How many more days will you claw at your chest hoping to get the parasites to sing with you?

The walls grow and grow while the chandelier clambers, slinking down, waiting to be completely entombed, and you could be thankful, couldn’t you? You got to live a little longer as the shreds of whatever remains, some Crito pleading, under someone who can’t see the monster silently strangling you. Twisting you into someone that you hate.

The only ones who can stand to be saved are those so devoted, are those who understand the world alone isn’t a world at all. Who’d rather be in arms than mental catacombs. Whether you are one, well, you’ll know.

I guess I’ll be delusional enough and suggest I enjoy the torches & endless walkways. If the next step means falling thousand klicks downward, well, I’ll deal with it.

Because at least it means I can take the next step, and the step after, and that, to me, is everything.