In Narcissa Balenciaga, Promo by Narcissa Balenciaga

Obsession is the lifeblood that inspires people to create.

Obsession is what turns a spark into an inferno.

Obsession gives life meaning when nothing else does.

Obsession is also what turns creativity and drive to desperation and destruction.

Obsession is what makes that inferno burn the one with that initial spark.

Obsession gives death meaning when the life forged by it ends.

Poetic isn’t it?

The things that make us wish life would never end are what drive us to the brink of death.

Even more true when the obsessions that drive you revolve around the end.

Omega in a word, it’s no accident you and I are in this league, doctor.

Your placement isn’t accidental. Your reason for this destination is as obvious as your name.

You’re so obsessed with one’s natural ending you wear it as a moniker.

You don’t see human beings, you see future cadavers.

Seeing someone’s veins doesn’t remind you that they have a pathway to a beating heart.

You picture the pathway we all must take, that boat ride on the River Styx, you picture it so much, one could mistake you for Tombstone if you still had that gold around your waist.

When El Mariachi Muerte laments about death, you don’t hear the music, you imagine the strings as a garrote making every note fade away with each dying breath. A string can’t get plucked if it’s wrapped around a throat.

What did he say to you anyway? Something tells me death isn’t as fun to obsess over when it’s your own.

I could go on and on about the ways you think about it and I still wouldn’t scratch the surface of how it consumes you, would I?

No but I understand, it’s easy to think about the end of something when its mere existence is something you hate.

It’s easy to think of something perishing when you know it’s necessary and one day, inevitable.

You’re not the only one obsessed with an ending, the only difference is the ending I want isn’t natural.

For your obsession, the perfect parallel is murder.

I’m going to destroy everyone and everything in my way.

You might view yourself as death, as the end, as a personification of necessity in an unnecessary world but you’re simply a tool in a world that’s bound to change.

Death isn’t the end, it’s simply the graduation ceremony from this forsaken hellhole.

The true end you simple man is the end of suffering, death doesn’t promise that, it only shifts the pain to someone else.

I’m the end of suffering for all these people, I’m shifting all the pain they endure to the man who ensures their agony.

I’m the end of corruption, I’m justice in an unjust world.

Death is simply an end for one person, I’m bringing an end to everyone.

A good ending for most, a tragic ending for those who deserve it.

Your obsession makes you belong in a league attached to the end.

My obsession makes me the end.

I am Omega.