The Man in Between

My name is Mesandros, the one In Between. I live in the interlude of life and death, lie in the realm where mysteries lurk unseen. I persist in the grey sculpting light and dark, tread the line blurring wisdom and insanity. I march onwards to the past, and peer backwards upon the future. There I am, at the threshold of reason and emotion. There I am, at the lull of silence and commotion. I am the man of the middle, and I know not where my story will end.

My eyes crackle with lightning, my soul blazes bright. Brighter than the sun, at times, hot enough to melt me from inside. My mind, a fortress against friend or foe, its secrets unknowable by any but I. Many have tried, at different times, but they all eventually say goodbye. I wear a thousand faces, each as fearsome as the next; I own so many faces, sometimes I forget which one is mine.

I refuse those of the Past, they who run away from old scars. I reject those of the Future, they who chase impossible dreams. They beg me to join, gnashing and gnawing at my mind. Past and Future relentlessly invade, leaving gaping wounds with every attack. Again, as I have always, I decline them both, for I teeter at the edge of all things; I cannot choose.

Here, there is no joy and there is no sorrow—only a twisted imitation of both. I cannot be satisfied by reality, nor find refuge in dreams. There is a maddening cacophony of whispers—or perhaps that is simply the silence speaking. I have no mouth and I must scream. I always move, for I cannot stay. I advance, but I cannot arrive. I have traveled far and wide, passing mountains, stars, epochs. And at the end of it all, I find myself In Between.

My name is Mesandros, the one In Between. And I cannot leave this godforsaken place. Neither here nor there, my purpose has been robbed and my meaning has been murdered. I am the man of the middle, and I know not where my story will end.

Authors Note:

This piece explores the existence of a being stuck in the space between all things—life and death, logic and emotion, creation and chaos. Through Mesandros, I imagine what it might look like to live in a reality without God, without meaning.