¹"I thought of meeting myself someday, but some day, I decided to disappear and walk far away."
Anamary was a young little boy who was born on February 29th of the Year 1872, living an isolationist lifestyle inside a town near the riverside and a lake where there were only a few neighbors, ruled by none. Along with Lilyfeh, which he named in his little diary given by his deceased caregivers, he was trying to escape from the harsh society using his innate imagination but not the cruel fate where he was. Some people there wanted to kill him, either a clan leader, a king or a queen, or a criminal. He feels their killing intent and bloodlust even from far away. But he was more afraid of people who didn't have the need to kill him but people who looked at him with a demising glare and judgmental imposture. He feels too much, and he thinks too much, and that is his undisputed reality. He perceived the reality where he lived in a dangerous place that seeks pleasure from ignorance. He began from being pleasing to rebelling.
²"The mourn of the living consequence is either the bliss or the misery of the deceased assumption."
Anamary thought of killing people who he considered his adversaries. There was a day, dusk, when he grabbed a sharp pointed knife from his pocket to stab an old man that Anamary assumed was abusing a little girl on the street, but as he was going to attack, he noticed that the old man was an unknown doctor holding a grasp on the little girl's severe psychotic issue. He observed the scene, watched the aftermath of his decision and hypothetical realization, and left the situation as he thought he would never change something that was out of his control. He felt an intimidating urge to help the little girl and break the psychosis she suffered from. Behind his masked mind and sensitive heart, he felt the flowing embodiment of weakness from his veins and the undying fragility of himself and of his non-belonging and longing for poetic disturbance and homely refuge.
³ "When my mind begins to feel for me and my heart begins to think for me… Where will I put my trust? When will I know it happened? And why will I understand a realization that will never happen? I lived with the paradox, not with change."
There was a little girl suffering from an unknown psychotic disorder where she perceived anybody, even her own family, as monsters and impostors. Yet there was a time when she aggressively stabbed her right chest because she thought being a monster was contagious, and she thought she was already a monster. Her caregivers decided to take her to an unknown doctor in their town to find a cure for their daughter, both for the wound and for the disorder. The unknown doctor was known for his precision in pharmaceutical medicine and clinical efficiency, but he was accused by authorities of sexual harassment and rape. Yet the little girl's caregivers put their trust in their decision and took their daughter to the clinic. The unknown doctor advised them to let their daughter stay in the emergency room for a longer time for further analysis and effective empirical results. Yet the little girl broke the window glass of the emergency room out of fear, and the doctor immediately took action. As he caught the little girl, he mocked the need to lie back. The little girl was put to sleep and locked in a room alone. The doctor was on the other side of the room, watching and observing the little girl from the other room with a critical and ocular lens of focus. With all the antipathy that the doctor thought that this was just a normal hour with a psychotic patient, he witnessed the horror. There was an unknown little boy standing still in front of the little girl. He suddenly saw such a thing at the exact time, 12:00am. And the little girl was gone, along with the little boy, in a matter of seconds. No open doors. No open lights. No traces left to explain the incident. The little boy, Anamary, saw the light and killed the clueless doctor behind, one stab from the heart down to his upper spinal cord with a knife out of rage and fearless instinct. Anamary brought irrational idiosyncrasies and left an unorthodox story for the town. Anamary, an anonymous culprit, was either an antihero or a kind monster.
⁴"Suffering is objectively subjective. I hide and disappear to save them from murdering me. Not because I am afraid of being murdered out of interest, but I am afraid they will murder me to serve another person with valued pretension. Yet I killed a person for another person who needed my help."
Anamary, along with Maya, the little girl's name, stayed for a while in an isolated abandoned house. As Maya's caregivers received the news about the incident, the tears in their eyes and the disappointment on their faces tells a seemingly horrible story Anamary left. Anamary observed the surroundings and went to see the consequences of his actions. He saw a crying woman whom he assumed was Maya's mother. Anamary went back to the abandoned house and took the hand of Maya. Maya was neutral, confused, and surprisingly calm behind her psychotic issue. Anamary let Maya come back home, not just out of guilt and pity. Anamary understood that Maya's psychosis was a post trauma and by killing the root, a person behind such heinous things, Maya's psychosis will disappear. And the assumption of Anamary was genuine. Maya's arrival to her home brought atmospheric confusion and shock to her mother and father. Anamary hid in the bushes and saw the whole situation. He lit a candle with a smile on his face and began to cry. Anamary let the innocence of the present situation kill the brutality of the past incident. Their secret was carried. Only Anamary and Maya knew. Only Anamary understood. Only Maya suffered.
⁵ "Oh poem, the fear, dear, the tears, the twins, raging judgment of bliss to murder the raindrops."
"Anamary" was such a feminine name. A soft, gentle name meant to compose a story rather than a history. Where his childhood drowned with severe loneliness, the outcast, the burdened, the outsider, and the autonomous guilty rebel. A poetic experience doesn't need to be a poem, but a poem must be a poetic experience. A kind of poetic disturbance that transfers a traumatic experience into a profoundness, as such, poetic justice.
"Maya was meant to die. Their secret was carried. Only Anamary knew. Only he and Maya understood. Only Anamary suffered."
Maya thought that she met such misery to learn a lesson, but in cruel reality, to experience more misery to come. How such fate plays a game with life as serious as a childlike wonder. Let your hatred embrace your own fear and let your fear be enraged by your own hatred. The madness of the heart is the fearlessness of the mind. As Anamary met his twin, Maya. Only Anamary knew.
⁶ "Understanding is a kind of freedom. A freedom that takes you to nowhere but another misunderstanding. Understanding is a currency you pay for knowing that you can understand, little by little, and pay a debt of reciprocation. That is why I am afraid I will understand a wrong situation over a right phenomenon. That is why I will follow you. I am not afraid of you. I understand you. I understand you more than I know you, and you don't need to pay me reciprocation. Understanding myself is my satisfaction, and understanding you is my obligation. I will passionately follow you indefinitely, Maya."
The past ruler of Anamary's town 216 years ago, Year 1667, February 2nd, burned all the orphanages within the town and massacred hundreds of children, excluding the tribes that were drowned by his soldiers and mercenaries. 214 years had passed, a new history was born. Year 1883, March 27th, Anamary's family was massacred by an unknown man. The man brutally set a fire that engulfed Anamary's home, killed his mother and his three siblings, and drowned in the lake of fire. Anamary didn't realize the situation as he woke up outside the home he previously spent his memories with his family devoured by flames. He didn't know how he was the only one outside and guilty alive. Anamary saw the silhouette of the culprit standing still, watching the audacity of his crime. Anamary felt the stabbing feeling in his left hand as the blood poured out from his palm. The sharpness, as burning sharp as a knife, of his diary's blank pages he was holding had caused it. He saw the man, the culprit who killed his family, enter the lake of fire and murder himself. Anamary slept due to the heaviness of his swollen eyes. He was currently 11 years old at that time. And the town's history never repeated itself, but it resurrected the same story with different colors. As red as a principality. As purple as eccentricity. Crimes were there not to remind people of their sins but to let them study the root. Was it the consequences from forgetting the history that made us suffer or the consequences from history that we were trying to erase? And why is such a thing not a kind of poetic experience but a childlike poetic disturbance?
⁷ "I am endlessly yearning for a new emotion, for a new thought, for a new form of feeling, for a new form of thinking, as such, to give me endless terror and horror for my undying delusions and contemplations. My own version of counterphobia that will help me to hear the picture and see the music. And my own mind will be haunt to see that I hysterically laugh at my own misery and my heart will be haunt to hear I terribly cry at my own femininity. "
Humane tantrum is such an undoubted depiction for an antihero. As the motherhood of carelessness lets a child wander to the unnamed water, walking in the depths of the darkest edges of ages that die from undefined pages of the human psyche and emotionality. Many children in Anamary's town died from an unknown illness. Many residents there assumed it was a contagious bacteria lurking beneath the unknown lake near the town contaminated by the contagious force of potential sicknesses. Yet not as impulsively common as dying from their own aggressive ignorance and destructive anger. On May 2nd of the Year 1885, there was an executive soldier from Heleyiro Village who visited the town of Apneya for sociopolitical and personal interest but was found dead, decapitated, and stabbed in the left chest near the fenced wall of the said village he visited. Apneya was a post-abandoned town inhabited by different people with unknown backgrounds. Apneya was known for its 133-year-old historical conflict with Songso, another unknown town. The reason of the conflict was recorded unknown but the idea that the former ruler of Songso Village loathed the Apneya Village for a revengeful reason. Songso Village was built in the Year 1667, March 09th, by some lawyers and elders. These leaders had no conflict with Apneya Village. Yet by the Year of 1669, February 28th, there was an unknown person who had a covered face with white fiber cloth and reigned over the Songso Village by force. She murdered the founders and began to rebel for a cause and ruled the Songso Village under her power. She began to gain power because of her immense and innate intelligence. She wrote and proposed strict laws and principles written in an unusual single archive collection of poems known as "The Song of the Songso" composed of 27 poems, each with a respective number of verses. This law also revolutionized Heleyiro Village in all due respect for Songso Village. The Songso female young ruler strengthened her force with mandate warfare, formed the Songso Executives, served as the authoritarian decision-makers, and Songso Literates served as the authoritarian refuge for The Song of the Songso. Songso Village was known for its extremely brutal punishments for those residents who tried but failed to escape from Songso due to the reason they seek false freedom and their need to break The Song of the Songso. As the punishment was being served, they were forcefully convicted, tormented, tortured, and beheaded. The Songso Executives burned the bodies and threw the remains into the lake, the same lake that Anamary's home temporarily occupied in the Year 1883 and Anamary's town assumed reason as the progenitor of the unknown illness haunting them in the Present Year 1885. In History, Songso Village was declared as one of the most prominent adversaries for nearby villages and towns, considered as the most powerful and scariest among them all at the time, depicting the most undefeated power under the rule of an unknown authoritarian female youngest ruler who reigned Songso Village whom age was only 18 years old. She wanted to imbue intense fear using her poetic justice and revolutionized her madness flowing due to her unremarkable hatred towards Apneya Village for an unknown reason and she forcefully declared war with them which began in December 18th, Year 1669. Songso Village won the Songso-Apneya 133 Years-War against Apneya Village on September 16th, Year 1802. The ruler of Apneya Village was assassinated, along with all of the hundreds of dead soldiers and villagers who died in war, were burned horrendously, and their burned bodies were thrown out into the unnamed lake under the same law, which was only meant for Songso residents who dared to rebel. The new reigning period of Songso Village began in the Year 1852, February 29, after the former female ruler reigned Songso for over 183 years died from an unknown psychotic disorder, at the age of 201. She defied time with her art, The Song of the Songso. Until the day she died, she still covered her face with the same fiber cloth, and anybody who dared to open the fiber cloth to see her face even the time she was already deceased would be executed, not by Songso Executives but by the Songso Literates. By the time Year 1852 had passed, there were 27 previous villagers who successfully escaped the Songso Village. They unknowingly hid and resided in Apneya Village, the Songso Village's new territory after the war, out of fear of being found by the new ruler of Songso Village and Songso Executives along with the fear of being executed or murdered under The Song of the Songso. Her art left hundreds of fears but her long lost history, her white appearance, and her real name was still shrouded in complete mystery. Songso Village residents named the former female reign as the "White Ruler" and the "Songso Poet". The 27 previous villagers of Songso lived in Apneya with extreme isolation, populated themselves, yet they still had no ruler, soldiers, nor an administration to protect their village, yet they were codependent only on the free will that they have. The present setting, Year 1885, they still suffered from breathless uncertainties and post-traumatic horrors. The history sometimes fools the culprit. The Song of the Songso, 27th Poem, named the unnamed lake as "The Lake of Mother Anamary (⁴⁹)." between the border of Songso Village and Apneya Village, also named by the villagers and residents as "Cemetery of Hundreds" lake, "Detrimental Illnesses" lake, and lesser known as a "Lake of Psychosis" named by Anamary himself. Apneya Village, with 82 residents, is the town where Anamary laid down his life and fate. And Anamary was just a young little boy. The Song of the Songso, 21st Poem, Verse 31-33, Written May 23, Year 1805:
My dear Maya, oh, such a poetic name,(³³)
Please embrace me, do not murder my body, (³²)
Anamary Anamary, let this name be free. (³¹)
⁸ "What even is the essence of peace in a form of a sugarcoated dilemma? Why do we need to sew our lips, stab our eyes, and cut off our ears for the sake of satisfying our fears and years of being mad at those who hurt us? Is it not silence the most violent whisper? Is poetic justice a former rebellious concept of screaming? Or a forgotten song that nobody dares to listen to?"
The Song of the Songso, The 27-Poem Law, The Songso Poet's unorthodox, purely poetic yet completely horrific, and unconventional methodology of psycho-physiological tortures and absolute dead-end kill for those who opposed or oppressed against her ideology, shrouded from her pure madness and poetic disturbance. She wrote the poems until her final breath of poeticism. The shortest among all of the poems of The Song of the Songso was the 1st Poem. It only had 2 verses, yet it recorded the highest number of deaths under this poem, written and proposed on an unknown date.
No hatred from hearts had ever made me tear. (²)
Shall I be? Shall I let my blood twist in fear? (¹)
Contrary to the belief that it was only for the residents and villagers who rebelled against the White Ruler, it was also served for the Songso Executives who failed to execute the penalty for the guilty person who disobeyed and for the Songso Literates who secretly stole the Records Of Committed Disobedience and failure to read the poems in reversed order. The Song of the Songso, which the White Ruler wrote and proposed, was also served for herself. This rule was written and proposed under The Song of the Songso, 2nd Poem, Verse 4-7, written and proposed on an unknown date.
Me too, let me feel my own ferocious audacity. (⁷)
The limitations of the human responsibility, (⁶)
Blood of the rebel thrown out from a mistake, (⁵)
Let me see and hear, let me touch the lake. (⁴)
⁹ The Song of the Songso, 27th Poem, with 58 verses, was last written near The Lake of Mother Anamary by 5:23 am, February 29th of the Year 1852, the same day the Songso Poet passed away and a new ruler was reigned.
¹⁰ "In my eight days of waiting for Maya, I felt the bliss that she was already in happiness. Why did I know it was the reason? I only lend my help out of genuine necessity, not a beauty of comfort."
Madness is the most prominent and harmfully passionate emotion ever to touch the human heart. Madness defies the reasoning of the mind to evaluate consequences yet at the same time helps the mind to hold undefinable ideas that root and interconnect morality and intellectuality beyond what the heart could truly and genuinely understand. Madness is not synonymous with hatred. Hatred embraces the known, the limited, and what is real in the eyes of the beholder, while madness embodies the unknown, the limitless, and what is not real in the heart of the vulnerable. Anamary thought that by murdering somebody out of poetic justice or poetic disturbance, it would make his madness disappear. Even though the hatred for the person he murdered already satisfied his mind and pulled the hatred away from his heart, the madness of knowing and understanding that he murdered a person and, with that realization, he will murder another person who had the same crime as the person he murdered. Madness is lurking under his skin, playing with his delusions beyond his conscience and imagination, and the art of refuge haunts his heart and imbues counterphobic fear in his mind, hence, the "passion" was born.
¹¹ The Song of the Songso, the 13rd Poem, 18 Verses, written and proposed on an unknown date.
We will come to my lake of fire, Oh no kindness. (¹⁸)
You and your people will melt into my unkindness, (¹⁷)
Your blood will seek its lost veins for seeing me, (¹⁶)
Let my own innocence meet your omnipotence, (¹⁵)
Spill the last drops of your filthy incompetence, (¹⁴)
I will passionately follow your innermost sense, (¹³)
Two children, Sixteen candles, Eight rotations, (¹²)
Lessons for the masses and for the monsters, (¹¹)
Do you want to know my name and murder me? (¹⁰)
Shall my mind be there to serve your necessity? (⁹)
Surrender, remember, your mother, your father, (⁸)
Or if your false masculinity detriment your ability, (⁷)
To say I will die for my own nonexistent pity, (⁶)
Would you rather a lake of fire or a lake of blood? (⁵)
Where your blood is ironically dancing, (⁴)
A lake of fire where your heart is crying, (³)
Gentleness of my horror won't allow you singing,
(²)
The Song of the Songso already wrote your fate.
(¹)
¹² "I will come for you, Maya. The worsened state of the lake will annihilate us all. The residents in our village are all normal people. I understand that you have a psychosis, Maya. What have you seen that I have never seen before? Have you seen ghosts or monsters? Were they looking like me? Or am I the person that you saw? I am sorry that I owe you my confusion. For I do not know if I am mad or afraid, but I know I think, I feel, and I understand."
Anamary was asleep by the time Maya arrived. There were no people. There were no threats around. Maya whispered, and Anamary slowly felt the presence. Anamary never spoke any words anymore and immediately lent Maya a knife.
"You do not have any caregiver, do you? Maya."