Joybird Phoenix

It is this thing. This thing that comes alive, and that tries to eat everything around me. A bird trying to burst out of my insides, a phoenix which is using me as its ashes. I don't know its name, but it has claimed me. It calls to me. It controls me.

Oh? Does it control you, now? That double-layered iris? Teeheehee. Such a stupid thing, you know. I wish you could just stop being afraid of it. We're all phoenixes, now, risen from the ashes of what we once were. Join us.

It's disgusting. It's something I can't be. It's something I will never be. It's the fear inside of my heart, which is made of ice, but yet it must stay that way - I cannot let it melt with your flames. That would be suicide.

But isn't that what you wanted? The sort of passion that you sought? My, if you change your mind so quickly, maybe it really *would* be fun for you to become like us. Look, look, your hands have already turned to feathers, your fingers fusing to one another... mmm, that blood might make your pearly white turn a deep crimson, if you don't wipe it off, soon.

You kill people for the sake of your birth, and you kill people for the sake of your growth. Is there nothing that you do that doesn't relate to human suffering? Is there nothing that I would become that is anything other than a monster?

Beautiful. Flowers are beautiful, aren't they? And I don't think you would be one to call a flower a monster; after all, they're some of your favorite things, the last time I checked. Yes, so, in that case, you would become beautiful, a trait that is not unique to monsters, nor is it particularly indicative of them.

A beautiful thing I might become, but that wouldn't make me forgive myself.

You won't be able to forgive yourself, for the "you" that is now won't even come with us. "You" will be left behind, in favor of a new you.

Am I human anymore? My skin is black, you can see that, even with your eyes that probably can't see anything. At least, I would assume so.

Yes, I can see things. You are not human. Maybe you were at one point, but I'm having doubts about that, really. You were more like... a fox, always, you know? Just like this fox. The fox that was your... friend? It's hard to tell how it is that are still "human" and not our kind even really feel about that sort of thing. I would've killed the fox, personally.

I don't remember any sort of fox.

Well, do you remember anything at all, besides my soothing voice?

I don't remember any of that. Especially the part about your soothing voice.

You'll like it more when you become like us. Your flesh is turning to ash, you know. That's why you're darker than coal; because you *are* coal, in a sense, and you always were meant to be coal. Just like the fox. Do you see the fox on my face, now?

I wish I didn't. Your beak is ripping through the flesh of that mask. It's very distracting, and makes you look like an ugly fox.

My, you are actually getting upset about that. Very well, I'll take it off.

I wanted you to look less ugly, not more so.

I long for the minutes now, the minutes sometime in the future, but not too far away, when all of you has burned up, and just the bird shall remain, oh yes. The bird that shall not only be new life, but new perspectives.

Won't it have some of me into it?

Yes, it very well might. But, I think she, he, it, or whatever they are will appreciate me a lot more than you do. I don't think you appreciate anything, you know.

I can appreciate things. I think, at the very least. I did at one point, right?

What sorts of music do you like?

I don't know. I've never heard any music before.

Do you not remember "Blue Jays" by the Gabbers, back in 1804?

I have never heard that song. That song probably doesn't even exist.

You're right, it doesn't, but imagine if it did? Blue Jays. That would be such a lovely song, I'd imagine, if they had the music based on birds like that. Well, it wouldn't be the best song around, I don't suppose, but it would have to be something good for it to deserve that name. Much better than other songs, the ones about the "human condition" or whatever it is. Reminds me of just how stupid people can be, when they think that they understand reality, but they're actually nothing more than a bunch of overgrown toddlers.

Toddlers.

Yes, yes, toddlers. It is precisely-

No, I meant that I just remembered. Toddlers. There was some song involving them that I liked.

So, you *do* remember a bit about yourself. How dreadful. I was hoping that you would retain none of your memories - but, very well. Let me hear your song, the song about children.

It was something involving how children are the future... perhaps it was by the Babies?

That is not a band, you daft creature.

Are you quite sure? Maybe I don't know any music, then...

Yes, yes, I'm quite sure that you don't know any music... but, that doesn't matter. Why should the likes of a dead man be thought about for more than a passing moment, before the coffin of his is shut, everyone still alive shrugs and says "oh, dear, what a shame," then gets along with it? "It" being their lives, of course, because after someone is dead, their impact has ceased.

I don't know if I believe that.

You're an unperson, so that's completely fine if your opinion is totally wrong and misinformed. People that are dead can do nothing besides rot, and maybe become a nice sandwich for one of the wolves, or the vultures. Me, perhaps, if I'm desperately in the cravings for it, you know?

Well, there is some kind of impact in our lives, I think, and I think that such an impact will be remembered. Maybe the things that we create, or the people that we connect with.

Oh, God, you're really going to be spouting some stupid philosophy. I thought you were supposed to be dead and daft, not someone with a college degree.

What is a "college degree"?

Something you're not supposed to have, so try and not worry about it, and instead, focus on making your inevitable demise come quicker without annoying me.

No, I don't think I will.

Wonderful! I hate you.