WHERE THE WILD THINGS WERE | verse

[castafiore]

"REAL ISN'T HOW YOU ARE MADE," SAID THE SKIN HORSE. "IT'S A THING THAT HAPPENS TO YOU. WHEN A CHILD LOVES YOU FOR A LONG, LONG TIME, NOT JUST TO PLAY WITH, BUT REALLY LOVES YOU, THEN YOU BECOME REAL." "DOES IT HURT?" ASKED THE RABBIT. "SOMETIMES," SAID THE SKIN HORSE, FOR HE WAS ALWAYS TRUTHFUL. "WHEN YOU ARE REAL YOU DON'T MIND BEING HURT." castaways an original verse it is not in the nature of things to simply die once they are cast away. they live on, somewhere, after all, in snapshots of the past and in fingerprints in the dust. they live on because they are not human, they are simply human-made, conjured up by thought or by action and left to their own devices once their time with their creators is done. though there are many paths that can be taken once one is abandoned, most choose to congregate, bound together by loneliness, in the far reaches of the world, or, sometimes, in plain sight. ( please don't go. i'll eat you up, i love you so. ) from time to time, some will choose to "haunt" those who left them behind. this can manifest simply as a sort of "ghostliness," or the taking of a new, physical, human form. ( i have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine. ) yet others choose to seek revenge, through whatever means they can, becoming the literal monster in the closet or taking more subtle means.