Away at MÉLANGE
Enduring this exhausting voyage over a hostile ocean, seeking what they thought to be lost forever, why was it this archipelago they arrived to?
For they have left everything behind, never to return, escaping from this tremendous insanity. They only wished for a life in harmony, something that once might be called humanity again. As mankind had fallen for a sinister fate, they yielded all their hopes towards this journey. Never shall this happen again. Driven by the desire to harness a power that might change their world, they only wished to break with the past and rethink a future that had yet to be built – a greater good, that shall overcome all what is possible. Now, without direction and exposed to the laws of nature, they finally spotted what was thought to be their new Arcadia. It should be the 50th Arcadia founded by mankind, but a soft glimmer of hope enlightened their hearts upon the discovery.
Eventually they were proven wrong.
Approaching the islands, they began to realize that what was laying before them was but a twisted mockery of life: the landscape so altered, the forms so thoroughly conjoined and being mutilated beyond recognition that it was too agonizing to look at. What once was a refuge had become a deformed cacophony of distortion. All solid ground transmuted into seething mounds of boils and ulcer, bloated and swollen with the festering corruption from within. An unnatural overgrowth had melted all life into the islands flesh, eager to constantly consume more. Mortified by this hideousness rendering them unable to escape, they were yet forced to cherish the sight.
Despite this grotesque abomination they felt an almost repulsive desire to go ashore. As if they had been lured by a sweet scent and soothing whisper; their disbelieve slowly and unnoticedly turned into a craving. Shimmering in delightful seducing colors the islands’ surfaces appeared like a pleasurable diversion taking over any means of reason. This fertility was truly mesmerizing, so loathsome but yet beguiling, entangling them in a daze of sensuality.
Sanity was to be dismissed. For what seemed to defy their eyes, lurking inside of everyone, they eventually wished to succumb to this miasma of dysfunctionality. Their redemption was a zealous worship to the pleasures of unthinkable sin and blood lust. Their mindless affection turned them into slaves to the joys of every excess their minds may conceive. Only the utmost extremes could make them feel somewhat alive. Dripping with putrescence they enjoyed being devoured by magnificent decay. Honing their bodies to the limits of blissful endurance, their last resistance was washed away, all ideals and hopes banished into the realms of abyssal ignorance*And all was lost again?
Plexiglass, spray paint
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