Within the swirling Mist (IC) > Biographies

A Private Record

(1/2) > >>

Quatral:
A Private Record of Gluttony

March 13th, 773


I have begun to feast. I know what's going to happen, and I've just got to do it. I can almost feel myself expanding, bit by bit. The sicker I get the better, good riddance, I'll be rid of this nuisance soon, bigger and better things, yes, that's it, how absurdly ironic. I've just got to do as I'm told, I can't let this opportunity slip by. This kind of setback in my progress would be catastrophic. I've got to just keep going, I can feel it, I can feel myself, I hate it, I hate me, but soon, soon I'll be rid of it. When I've done it, they'll all see, and I'll be closer to perfect. Once I'm perfect, I won't have to do this, no, not any more. Once I'm perfect, I'll never feel this wretched, this vile consumption, this wretched food. I don't want anymore, but I've got to. It's all for me, I'm doing it for me don't you know, then I'll be happy, so perfect. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it, make me stop.

Oh what I do for me. It's really not so bad, I really shouldn't whine, this is such an honor. To think little me, of all of them could do it, it's just magnificent. As I sit here, writing and feeding, I can't help but feel proud. Oh how nice, so nice. But well, between myself and I, it's not, it's not. I really don't know how much longer I can. I'm so weak to say so, but I'm feeling so ill, I can't. Just think of what's to come, what this means, what this is for. Yes, I'll feel better, it'll be nice when things are perfect.

I've been feeding for the past several hours. I can feel my stomach, retching and writhing. I'm so loathsome, but it's oh so necessary, yes, I'll be so happy with this all. I can  hardly hold the pen, I' - The next rest of the page is wrinkled from moisture, and stained an off brown color

Quatral:
March 15th, 773

I can feel it, I can feel it, oh, it's terrible. It's really making me happy, I'm exuberant, but, it's terrible. I practically wretch at the mention of feeding, but it consumes my time. I've become conditioned, I can go for hours with vomiting now, which has become quite useful. However, I grow comatose at times, and rather ill. To be expected naturally, really, I've decided to devote this brief period of mental consciousness to write. Before I grow fretfully incoherent. This process will soon be done, word is the procedure will occur in short order. I'll be ready ready ready. Oh it's so lovely, please let me be ready. I can't wait, it consumes me as I consume the flesh. The food, it's awful, it's so awful, I'm just so weak. To think me, defeated, oh defeated by some wretched plate of morsels. It's ghastly, I really can't, but I will, I must, it's necessary. Once it's done, yes, yes, once it's done I'll be so grand, it'll be grand. I'm going to eat, and eat, and when I'm ready, I'll lie before them, I'll do it! I must, or I'll die. I'm not going to die, I'm not not not. I can't die. I won't die! This isn't the end, it's the beginning. How bizarre, I feed, I am shorn open like a pig, how odd, well, I am a pig. I feed feed, it's all I'm good for, all I can do, it's the best for me and all of them. We're going to cut open the pig, cut it open, wide open, then we'll see!

Quatral:
March 16th, 773

It's such a vile thing, but I'm drawing closer, I'm going to arrive! Glorious day, will it be, yes thank you. I'm so close, I must be ready, I am ready. Not today! Not today! I won't, we're going to proceed. I'll arrive, like a monarch, so grand, I'll be elevated. I won't be small! I won't be small! Not anymore, this is my time my time my time. Not even that wretched one will match me. They think, they delude! They presume to be greater, greater than me. Maybe for now, but not for long. Eating eating eating, I will, I feed. I must be done soon, this malign practice brings me closer, oh glorious day! I've grown so accustomed to this. I will be rewarded, rewarded with food, maybe, I'm not sure, hopefully, but my food, not their food, the food I'll be wanting! It's not like the slop, no no no, it's real! I won't be vomiting, not anymore, I won't do it. I hate it, it ruins me, I'm ruined, regurgitating my sweet progress! Regressing like a mongrel species. It is almost time, I must be ready, must be presentable, I'm so fat, so excellently fat, they must take me, they must must must! I have to, I know I'm prepared, it's time. I'll go upon my horizontal throne and be coronated, like a queen, a queen of fat and filth. No, not long, I'll be clean, I'll be perfect.

Quatral:
March 18th, 773

Oh joy, oh joy, oh joy! It's coming! He said it, he told me, I've subsumed myself to feverish conformity, and it's all paid off. I've won, oh joy. I'm going mad with excitement, this is lovely. It's close now, I know it. He examined me the other day, and I'm good enough. That's a strange thing, I'm good enough. How curious, but never mind that now. I'm going to proceed rather well, I should imagine. I've eaten less of late, and well, it's wonderful. I think think think more clearly now. The feeding, it no longer fogs my mind. But the black, it stalks my dreamscapes like a predator. It leeches off me, it taunts me in alien tongues, I hate it. But no matter! No matter! I'm going to be improved. I'm finally ready, I won't sit and retch in hateful anticipation. They can't take it away from me now, hah! How glorious, oh joy is me. I won't be so wretchedly broken, not like everyone else, not like me. I can barely think, but it grows better. Better now, consumption is not me, and I am not it. Very strange, it's all funny now, all so funny, things are different. But soon, it will all be so much better. I will be PERFECT. I will die before this is denied me. I will die.

Quatral:
March 19th, 773

It's so good. The day's dripping down, coming closer. It's hard to wait, can't wait. I've been keeping busy, yes. The broken brought me a gift the other day. It was grand. I can't thank him enough enough. It was so sumptuous. I ate and ate and ate! Ha, I can't believe I've been dulled by the mundane for so long. I can finally eat, real food! It's fine fine fine. Terribly fine, don't you think? There was simply so much, it had to be set aside. More for me you know, more for later. Ha, I can't stop thinking of it. Feeding is so wretched, can't feed. But this, this was so good! I can't stop, can't stop, can't stop. It's always in my mind, it's pressing in, can't think. I think I'll go mad if I don't have just one more bite, just one more, don't you think? There's simply so much more left. But then it'll be gone, all gone. How terrible. That won't do, won't do at all! I'll find more, there's so much more, they're all over the place! Ha, just mine for the taking. I'm going mad without it. I can't, not now, not for now, no no no. I'm fine, and soon, I'll be perfect. I'm so hungry.

Navigation

[0] Message Index

[#] Next page