Crap, crap, crap. I've thought about it, always looked at the possibility, looked at the extent at which I wanted to hurt myself, but dang it all, it still fricking exceeds everything I imagined. I wanted to have fur afterwards, shifting if possible, white if not. I wanted paws and claws, I wanted to kill something. But dang it, not like this. The twisting of my muscles, the ripping of my ligaments, the shattering of my bones, the burning of my blood. Everything doubled, tripled, quadrupled, over and over again. If the end is like I always thought it was, if I come out with that form I always imagined, I created, then it will be worth it, but still... so much right now. Why did I think like that, everything for a price, rebirth without the wait, without the uncertainty. Pain for contention of form, terror for shifting of being.
That form, that ability, that unlimited, unbridled, untamed, raw power. All of my life for it, all that hatred and regret, all the joy and content, all the karma built over the years, all the possiblities of the now gone future. All my mind, all my ideas, all my beliefs, everything to gathered for this one moment, this one single entity, this breathe. All to change, all to be feared, all to be evied, all to be admired, all to be more, all to be less, all to be unhuman. The price to be what I am not, to be what I love, to be what is impossible, to be alone.
That form,
That ability,
That energy,
That feeling,
That look,
The Beast.
