SCP-3817

Description

SCP-3817 is a man of European descent, approximately 40 years of age. SCP-3817 claims to be the German composer Felix Mendelssohn (1809-1847). DNA analysis has confirmed this claim to be true.

SCP-3817 was recovered in Leipzig, Germany, on ██/██/20██, following reports of a local vagrant who was allegedly unable to age. Investigations of visual and written records concerning the vagrant have confirmed that it has been physically about 40 years old for the past 1██ years.

Full-body examination has revealed SCP-3817 to have sustained a degree of physical damage that would likely be fatal to a non-anomalous human being. There is currently no scientific explanation to SCP-3817's continued survival despite its critical state of health.

SCP-3817 has confirmed the damage to have been the result of multiple self-mutilation efforts in the 1██ years prior to its containment.

SCP-3817 has claimed that it has no suicidal intent in its self-mutilation. It has also claimed to have experienced no symptoms of suicidal ideation in the past 1██ years. SCP-3817 is currently undergoing psychiatric evaluation to verify the aforementioned claims.

The self-inflicted damages to SCP-3817's body are as follows:

Overall, SCP-3817 is in poor health and reports frequent physical pain and emotional distress. Despite its current state of health, SCP-3817 has not made any of the expected requests for termination and has explicitly stated that it does not desire humanitarian euthanasia.

SCP-3817's maintained claim that it lacks suicidal desires has led to speculation that the cause of its biological immortality may be linked to its self-mutilation.

Upon the Foundation's request, SCP-3817 has agreed to provide a written outline of the reasons behind its self-mutilation for further investigation of its anomalous property:

I understand that you wish to know why I have chosen this course of action. My thoughts are unclear and half wild, but I will try to organize them and explain myself to the best of my ability.

[Three lines of script densely scribbled over, completely illegible]

It has been brought to my attention that The Great Composers
Beethoven cramped and vomited and lived in a world of painful silence; Mozart was sickly and miserable and up to his powdered wig in debt; Chopin was endlessly coughing his lungs and his soul out; Schumann saw angels and demons and phantoms and had moods that were as stormy as the literature of his era.
These men were the great composers. They knew how it was like to be exhilarated, they knew how it was like to be in the depths of despair. They knew emotions. Their music changed and shifted and developed and grew with the changes in their lives.

All the great composers endured pain and suffering to fulfill their desire to create. And the results of their effort: timeless masterpieces!

As for me? Happy and fortunate is my first name! I was born into a wealthy family, showered with support and praise and money for my entire life - never did I have to struggle to write music. No other composer experienced such profound insulation from hardship. I never understood genuine misery and misfortune. For the 38 years in which I lived, my music never changed in style or quality, and there is no doubt that my pitifully comfortable existence impeded my artistic development.

And do you agree with me, that the first condition of an artist should be to bear respect towards what is great, and to bow to it and acknowledge it?

Owing to that, I have decided I must acquaint myself with suffering for my own sake. I must never perish, I must endure torment.

I destroyed my hearing so I would never again experience the pleasures of sound, just like Beethoven who went deaf.
Many of my illustrious predecessors such as Schubert, Schumann, and Donizetti suffered from syphilis, so I did what was needed.
So did many of them praise alcohol and become drunkards. I have faithfully followed their practice of drinking excessively, only ceasing when every part of my body cried 'stop, no more.'
I took to living on the streets as a penniless vagrant so I could worry about money, about my safety, about where my next meal was going to come from, as many illustrious composers led their lives in debt or poverty; Mozart and Wagner come to mind.
There were more, and I would have written them down if I could recall them; my memory is regrettably patchy.

However I can say with confidence that I have made significant progress since.
I am always in pain I am in constant pain and I can't even walk a few steps without feeling strange or numb or hurt and I cannot put it into words I do not wish to end this pain. I want to continue living. This is what the great composers endured every day, this is what shaped and grew them and I too must let it be an unavoidable part of my life. They have told me this. They have told me I must not give up in trying to develop myself.
I have since grown accustomed to pain in an endearing, musical way. I understand mankind's greatest sorrows and they are tangible. It has completely changed the way I perceive and comprehend things This is my life now I have emotions now and I am no longer emotionless

I believe I have made great leaps in terms of progress. The heavenly spirits of the late great composers are agreeing with me. I can hear them speak, feel their presence. They are giving me their approval. My time, I am sure, is right now.
I have been writing at great speed A volume of Songs Without Words is nearing completion. I am sure it is not too much to hope that it will satisfy the public as much as it satisfies me it will fulfill it will be to the public's liking it
[Illegible, scribbled-over script for the rest of the note]

P.S. Please forgive me for the cancellations and clumsy writing. I was weary. A poet in me was lost. I offer my sincerest apologies.

Addendum: During the period of its stay at the Foundation, SCP-3817 has written a collection of piano pieces titled Songs Without Words. Musicologists have been tasked to analyze these pieces and compare them to Songs Without Words written by Mendelssohn from 1829 to 1845. No stylistic differences have been detected.