Dialogue

Something underneath.

  As I lay staring at the ceiling and music is playing in my ears, I contemplate my existance. My soul appears before me as a horned creature, with long white hair and opalescent eyes. In its features I see  my traits embed. It doesn't speak, not vocally, but the mental link shows me its thoughts as it converses with me. We stand before each other in floating darkness, our bodies illuminated, making us look like beacons. It is as if a distorted mirror lays between us and I'm looking at my reflection, my soul laid bare. And as I study it, I realize I'll never know it completely, I'll never understand just how far it stretches its veins and what is capable of. I don't have enough time for that, nor enough lives to explore everything it has to offer and the revelation bitters me.
  Its golden horns stretch upwards, to divinity, then curl downwards, pointing to Earth, to mortality. The red markings on its forehead resemble flames and the blue of its skin remind me of the water I love so much to drown in. I ask:
"What world do you perceive?"
Reality.
"Which one?"
We know the answer.
"Do I have a purpose?"
Do we?
"Will you answer my questions?"
We don't have questions.
"You're right, I don't. Everything's broken."
It can be repaired. 
"I am the Destroyer."
We are the Creator.
"I'm running out of time."
Chase it. 
"When will we become one?"
We already are. We're just not completely aware of it."
"This is not enough."
It never is.
"Will I cease to hate humans if we merge together?"
Probably not. We hate them for a reason. They are selfish, impure and fake.
"Am I not the same?"
Are we?
"We aren't."
"Because we are wicked but do not pretend to be good."  We said at the same time, its words echoing in my mind as my voice carried them out into the darkness.
  As I open my eyes to stare at the ceiling, a feeling of hopelessness washes over me. But at the same time, I feel lighter.