He came in many forms though maybe gender had nothing to really do with it. Relevance has always been based on our ancient and parasitic rulings of thumb.
To what IT and many others may have stood for where beyond the coils of the physical, the destructible. They've always worn masks and I cannot begin to understand why.
They have no faces, they never have faces as far as I am aware. A part of me wonders if it would be for their own sake or if somehow they know the only thing that truly terrifies me is knowing beneath there is nothingness. Only a void.
Why would they care though? That is the question. Why are they in my mind? why is it that as I rest, I am at my most vulnerable to them? That my thoughts cannot resist what they have to say and I become a plaything. No matter how short and brief the moment.
No matter how infinitesimal the strands of time may seem, it is an eternity. They're there as I sleep for I do not sleep alone but always in company. To them I am an intrusion and while disappointing, not unwanted. Maybe they wear these masks to play games.
It's the time once more that I rest, and as I lay unto the confines of my bed I will know they are there as always. Watching, waiting, though fully knowing. It is inevitable.