My name is Yekaterina Lamia. And so is hers.
It always has been. The double us, the two of us, the ones who are the same but never meet and never lead the life we ever wanted, always the same and always the unconnected. We are one person, the single, the only, and yet neither of us exist as a whole. We are the one being, but only as differing parts can we coincide. Leading lives so individual from each other that no one would ever know that we are the one spirit, yet leading lives so exact, that at one glance you would know that she is me, and I am her. That we are one.
Yekaterina Lamia.
To some people, I am holy, godly; to others, I am a demon. She is the holy one, yet she is the devil. I am the devil yet I am the holy one. We can not live without each other. It is me and her, her and me, I and she and she and I, or nothing at all. The evil and the good, the good and the evil, the demons and the angels, and the angels and the demons; or only neutrality, nothing, a bland gray world neither with evil to let us know good, or good to let us know evil.
Yekaterina Lamia.
The two who mingle together yet forced away miles apart, separated by an unbreakable barrier invading our soul and splitting it in two. The walls of this barrier force us into eternal contact, yet keep us from ever touching each other’s minds; yet constantly living and breathing with the same mind, the same soul. Some call us prisoners, some call us freelancers, some call us impossibilities. We go by many names, given and taken, passed on and sticking to. Apart yet together, together yet apart, the same and the individual. Our name is only a fraction of what we are to them.
Yekaterina Lamia.
Some of those given names are crude to us, such truth and such lies. What they deem us is nothing as to who I am; who we are. We are the demons of the darkness, hidden in the shadows; we are the angels of the gods basking in the light. And yet one cannot be without the other; the fact that the angels bask in righteousness proves the fact that the demons are wallowing in the shadows. The fact that the demons must wallow in the darkness, only truths the statement that the angels soak in light of the heavens.
Yekaterina Lamia.
All existing within me, the one, the only, the evil and the heavenly. The crude and the kind, the bold and the timid. Me and her. Her and me. Not one without the other, nor the other without the one; together we survive as one soul in constant contact with a never ending separation. Given many names, names that are crude lies and crude truths, the impossibility of our existence only determining the fact that we do exist. The fact that we aren't only proves the fact that we are.
My name is Yekaterina Lamia. The blessed and the cursed. The love and the hate. The kind and the evil. The lover and the devourer. I cannot be myself without her to follow. And she cannot be herself without me to support her name.
Our soul is Yekaterina Lamia.
And We Are Emotion.