WOLFMAN.

even     a     man     who's     pure     of     heart     and     says     his     prayers     by     night     may     𝖇𝖊𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖊     𝖆     𝖜𝖔𝖑𝖋     when     the     wolfbane    blooms     and     the     moon     is     full     and     bright   !

an      extremely      private      (   mutuals   -   only   )      blog      for     a     re   -   imagined     lawrence     talbot     of      universal     pictures’     the     wolf     man.        triggering     themes     ahead.        strictly     21+.  

SINGULARITY   :      lawrence gordon existed without plural,   growing into the sweetness of loneliness      (      one,   one,   one      ).      he tells himself      …      there’s no one like me.      he tells himself      …       the few that understand me are murderers and criminals,   existing beneath the crest of respectable society.     larry,   a mockery of his own name,   does not prowl through the lower echelons      –      he is malformed and ill - equipped for the world,    bumbling through sentences with an open incompetence      (      lawrence is being cruel,   but there’s merely because he doesn’t know how to be anything else   :      his face is caught in a constant sneer,    his eyes bagged with lavender marks of restless nights      …      we’re not alike,   lawrence says,   and it isn’t a question,   it isn’t a statement to be refuted      –      it’s a prophet’s will      ).        ‘   i believe your idea of a trap and mine are very different.    i wasn’t stumbling drunk through some forest.   ’       he leans his weight uncomfortably against his cane,     the attention towards his leg bringing a burning pressure along the edge of his skin.   bone upon bone upon bone,    he stacks himself up on muscle and sinew,    pretending that the human body wasn’t frail.

POINT OF VIEW WAS VARIABLE.    of course he sees things differently now      (      his foot,   the trap,   the mercurial nature of his own body      ).      ‘   oh,  yes,  i do.   just like i imagine the world has vastly change for you      …       since your leg was once caught in a trap.   which you escaped   :      in one piece.   ’

WILDERNESS     OF     THE     MIND     /     WILDNESS     OF     THE     BODY     ———     even     marked     by     trap   -   tooth     scars,     even     broken   -   boned     and     shedding     the     only     skin     he     knows,     larry     stands.     this     sickness     that’s     settled     in     his     blood     is     not     the     funeral     march     of     the     ailing     or     the     infirm   ;     HOT     BLOOD     STILL     POUNDS     THROUGH     A     HEART     THAT’S     SEEN     TOO     MUCH,     angry     muscles     tense     under     brute   -   borrowed     skin.     ‘   hey,     now     ———     what     the     hell     kind     of     man     do     you     think     i     am?     call     me     crazy     if     you     want     ———     that     might     well     be     true,     but     i’m     not     a     drunk.     …     and     i     didn’t     get     out     in     one     piece.   ’    

THEY ARE BODIES INSIDE BODIES INSIDE BODIES.     they are bodies without bodies without flesh without life without humanity      /       they are one body and twelve bodies,   they exist in fractions and in the horrid tangle of too much,  son,  too much.     they had been rules for his body   :       INSTRUCTION MANUALS WERE STOLEN        (          his father   /   his creator   /   the monster who made him a monster         …          he had not thought to gift his son anything but a sewn together body and an open palm of closed issues       ).       he cuts the sandwich irregularly,    scarred palm shivering around the edge of the knife.     BLADES WERE TERRIBLE CREATURES   :       he is worried that,   merely by virtue of holding the weapon,     he will be forced into violence.    it is not in his nature       –       BUT OTHERS SUPPOSE HIS NATURE,   SECOND - GUESS HIM INTO BRUTALITY.     they see a brute in skin that is meant for a scholar       (        his handsomeness is uncanny,    a thousand handsomenesses knitted into one face       ).         ‘   yes.   ’       he slices the sandwich again,   into eight shoddy pieces,    shaking hand forcing the lands into jagged slits.       ‘   eat.   ’

EAT.     a     mouth     filled     with     teeth     /     a     mouth     filled     with     blood.     cognizant,     man     and     aware     of     it     [   …   ]     this     remembered     taste     of     death     ought     to     turn     the     stomach.     there     is     a     grave     he’s     unwilling     to     dig     up   :     that     perennial     hunger     stirs     with     the     ascent     of     the     moon,     all     moral     sense     lost     to     the     howl     and     the     wind.     THE     END     /     TO     BE     CONTINUED     [   …   ]     the     man     begs     for     death   ;     the     beast     insists     upon     its     own     immortality.     both     cannot     be     appeased   :     BOTH,     THEN,     ARE     MISERABLE.

‘   well,     i’m     not     a     liar.   ’     he     dreams     of     blood     and     teeth.     LYCANTHROPIA   :     a     delusion     that     one     has     become     a     wolf.     (   [   …   ]     might     imagine     that     he’s     anything     [   …   ]     your     son     is     a     sick     man.   )     round     and     about     his     finger     he     twists     his   father’s     signet     ring   ;     there,     a     wolf     leers     up     at     him,     snarl   -   smile     mocking.     THERE     IS     SOME     DISEASE     THAT’S     TAKEN     ROOT     IN     HIM   :     mind     or     body,     it     makes     no     matter     ———     he     is     honest,     and     he     is     scared.