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“And at that moment I was sure that I was still living in some way--that even if I was not entirely alive, neither was I wholly dead. Somehow I was caught in between these two worlds--caught in a place where I had made a rare connection with that Great Black Swine, that thrashing and vicious blackness which flowed like a river through every living thing, and possibly in the spaces around everything that lived, allowing me to be wherever the blackness flowed, to become one with this agitated force that was everywhere and inside everything, that moved and manipulated all the created life of this world and gave me the power to move and manipulate things according to my will, which was nevertheless only the lower-case will of an isolated being--a cockroach elevated to human form, a small swirling of that flowing blackness that was as great and enduring as the world itself, that was the secret face of the living world, the shadow within all life, the thing that would live on and on as each one of us died our deaths alone. Because whatever life we had was only its life, and when our bodies, our cockroach bodies, became too damaged to accommodate it... this blackness flowed away, leaving behind a dead vine, a bug's crushed carapace, or a human corpse--things that had no life of their own, nothing real at all about them.” |
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| Thomas Ligotti - “My Work Is Not Yet Done” |
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