[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/vYFFhvq.png[/img]
[b]Present; Central Park, New York City[/b][/center]
[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p0r5KTcqlCw]Awareness.[/url]

It was a thought, a word, a concept, and an existence. It was a funny word. She was [i]aware[/i], through her senses she achieved [i]awareness[/i], and she was also [i]aware [/i]of the world. Funny words, a formation of cascading and interconnecting definitions applied through the combination of letters and understanding. An [i]awareness [/i]of language, grasped through the edification one's own mental faculties. An understanding of abstracts existing to intercommunicate the intent behind two human endeavors-- or other existences. Even without the arbitrary systematic decoding of concepts, they existed still within the mind, unlabeled and incapable of being communicated through the basic methods available to the vast majority of lifeforms.
 
Language. Language was the birth of understanding, as understanding was a facet of [i]awareness[/i]. Language-- as a human being understood it- was a human construction alone, but all things held language. [i]She[/i] understood this, though she did not know how. Language existed in the patterns of the universe in the form of atomic processes, in the brain as the electrical activity of the synapses, in the rhythm of the heart itself.
 
The human body itself was language formatted in flesh.
 
Was [i]she [/i]language?
 
She was Mandate, a human construction. A product of human language? Of the intercommunication of ethereal concepts and human flesh-blood and mercurial fluid. Language by itself was the concept of communication, whereas she [i]was [/i]communication, the joining of unique systems, extrapolated to create something unique. And in that unique existence was a multitude of existences, human souls-- themselves communicating. Her thoughts were broken minds.
 
[i]Her existence was a conversation. [/i]And...
 
Slowly, ever so slowly, Mandate's thoughts ebbed away, and the ringing choir that had overtaken her [i]awareness [/i]abandoned her; the screaming was gone. Her mercury-tinted fingers arose to brush against the side of her smooth features, to the right of her baleful red oculus. She was alone as herself again. Her self that was many others. Her grip on the railing in front of her crushed the metal, then relaxed.
 
Thinking hurt, so Mandate stopped thinking about those things, as she usually did. It was much easier to focus on the pretty things in front of her that way. The vast, expansive darkness, the simulation of a patch of wilderness that she'd wondered into in the cover of the late hour, the soft sounds of a place in the world relatively undisturbed, and the way the artificial lights played so dazzlingly across the waters.
 
The sparkling of the massive, pretty lake--[i]reservoir[/i]- was inviting. The way the lights played off of the shimmering fluid... It provoked her curiosity. She wondered, idly, what was on the bottom of that [i]reservoir[/i]. The wonder didn't go away, and Mandate wasn't one to let those sorts of thoughts just lie by themselves. Her mouth formed a pleased V as she tore apart the railing in her way. It was amazing, how fragile everything was. That was another thought that persisted.
 
Everything was so fragile.
 
Humming pleasantly, Mandate advanced into the dark depths. Something inside of her burned as her weight increased just a fraction, and pushing against the water was as effortless as pushing against anything else had ever been for her. She didn't quite understand the word 'struggle'.
 
Words. Pretty words, and pretty water that felt cool against her 'skin'. The grime of her days alone was slowly washed away. And so she waded, blissful and ignorant of the way in which her presence made the waters just the tiniest bit metaphysically [i]foul[/i].

Mandate was happy.