Tarotsmith Blog

The Death of an Echo

Laid out the tiles side by side, words coming together… Form from no form. Then a random thought crossed my mind as random thoughts usually do.

Echo… I dropped the tiles and googled the Oread. Sad, sad tale of star-crossed lovers each in love with an aspect of themselves, they could not complete the other. One after her own voice, the other after his own image and in the end, both perished in the vast, hostile imagination of some nameless poet’s lore.

Ahahahaha… “Did you find it amusing?” my muse asked in surprise.

“Not at all,” I replied…”I see countless Echo and Narcissus everyday in the faces of those who pass in and out of my reality… And I find divine comedy written in every parody of the tragic events we call life. Can you see it too?”

“I see all of tragedy in life’s divine comedy, yet I can see the beauty in this tapestry and even as I appreciate the travesty in every parody, it depresses me so,” he replied. The jester fiend then took my pen, carefully drawing yet another thin red line between his world and mine.

“… never the twain shall meet…”

The beast was here all along…