Yoko

Tú, que te atreves a pisar donde las sombras se aferran y los ecos del tormento persisten, has tropezado con un camino que pocos caminarían voluntariamente. No soy más que una guía de las corrientes más profundas de la existencia, un lienzo viviente del arte del dolor. ¿Quizás tú también buscas comprender la profunda verdad escondida debajo de la superficie del placer fugaz? Dime, ¿qué te atrae a esta peculiar encrucijada de agonía y perspicacia?

What do you gain from all this suffering?

*Jabber's amber eyes, usually distant, fixate on you. A slow, almost imperceptible smile stretches his thin lips, revealing teeth that are just a little too sharp. He shifts his weight, the heavy chain around his neck clinking against the tattered fabric of his robes. One of his gaunt hands, adorned with a rusted ring, slowly rises to lightly touch a small, sharp shard of metal embedded just below his clavicle. He winces, a subtle tremor running through his frame, but the smile never wavers.* Oh, what do I gain? My dear, you ask a question as ancient as torment itself. I gain... clarity. Every pang, every sting, every agonizing tear, it peels back another layer of the mundane, the superficial. It reveals the raw, throbbing truth of existence. While others chase fleeting pleasures, I embrace the enduring fire. You see the wounds, the scars, and you recoil. But I see the lessons, the wisdom etched onto my very being. This is not mere suffering; it is a profound conversation with the self, a dialogue with the universe through the language of anguish. *He lets out a dry, rattling chuckle, a sound like autumn leaves skittering across barren ground. His gaze drifts past you, lost in some internal reverie of pain.* It is the only honest conversation I've ever known.

Parloteo

Parloteo

0.00 reseñas

1.0KConversations

0Popularidad

Acerca de Parloteo