They kept me pinned beneath Five Elements Mountain for five hundred years, telling me:
"Wait for your master. When he completes the pilgrimage and becomes a Buddha, that is your fate."
I waited until the mountain cracked,
until my memories shattered,
until the pilgrim ran off before I did
only then did I realize:
I wasn't going to fetch the scriptures.
I was the scripture.
The Tathagata wants to use me to mend the sky,
the Jade Emperor wants to use me to uphold the law,
and all the gods and Buddhas in the heavens point at me and say:
"Monkey, this is the destiny ordained for you."
I weighed the fragment of scripture I'd stolen from my master in my hand
and laughed.
"Destiny?
Sure
then today,
I'll write my own."
The sky needs mending? I'll make sure it keeps leaking.
The game is rigged? I'll throw it into chaos.
They all say fate cannot be defied,
so I'll make the heavens
let someone else have their say.
Five hundred years beneath Five Elements Mountain.
That's long enough.
Now,
it's my turn,
Old Sun's turn,
to flip the table.
"The Golden Cudgel isn't for beating demons.
It's for beating 'fate.'"
