The Sin of Living

Natae means N for Noodle!
Prologue

I’m not entirely sure what brought me here.

The voice in my head who claims to be Source (source of… what, everything?), and the other one that hates me both think they have something to do with it. You’re told, “everything happens for a reason” when bad things happen, as if never acknowledging the beauty behind the monstrosities of our existence. What does it all mean?

At four, when things start becoming clear, it means to be happy despite minor hiccups. “What do we do when it isn’t minor?” A five year-old asks, because they wonder about our place here just as the fifty year-old watching him does. We ask, because life isn’t minor. It’s a constant mix of beauty and rage, it is which you choose to let consume you that will set you on the path of finding meaning.

I chose beauty.

More-so, it chose me.

Aphrodite gripped me by my knotted hair, gentle as a rose. She saw me in need of someone, anyone, anything, and wished for rage on my behalf. She saw an agent of chaos inside of me, and tied my threads together to form an artist. My muse, Aphrodite pandemos, she of the people. And so I sought beauty within to fill the void, and my cup was filled with blood.

Rose colored glasses blinded me to the ugly, the crude, the deformed beasts that sought shelter in my fellow man. Instead, all I could see was the ideas in my head, begging to be released. My fingers, the keys, unlocking doors of wonder. I saw the entire world in a universal circle, so I tried to recreate my favorite stories to favor me. I left my dull and dark bedroom to visit a mountain named Eerie. She had the deepest caves, natural springs, fairies in the trees, and nymphs in the weeds.

Distraction meant nothing, because time didn’t matter, and for the first time I was at peace in infinite space. I didn’t realize beauty in the mind didn’t save me from the rage of the world.

Sincerely,

N