Evil, in a human is something that is a rare find because human's have such capacity for good or too much anger and hatred for evil. Evil stems from not hating or letting emotions get involved and having enough good to trick people into thinking your a great person. Truly evil people will get a following and as if by osmosis, the other people also start to put on a fake smile and gather superficial people around them so the evil spreads and people are generally unhappy but little pleasures that are inherently evil make us think we are happy.
There are those of us who were born evil, and this type is the infection; Those of us who found evil, these are the infected; those of us who had no choice but evil, these are those struggling to survive in sinful business or who might be sick from a mental disease that makes them do evil things; and last but not least there is me. I am that who works very, very hard to become evil because my good is so immense that the path to destroying my own emotion and sword that I will use against those who fought with my emotion, is to embrace the evil within and truly start to destroy lives. I want to see humanity suffer as I have and take my deceptive passion to their hearts once I've had their loins. Human beings are pathetic creatures and like sheep, they deserve to be prayed on.
Here is my new vendetta, I will destroy all that they hold dear...
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Morning Pains
I held her there in the dark, looking at the clock that read 5:56 AM. My heart was racing like an engine firing every piston at the same time. My mind kept saying to myself, 7:30 AM. I couldn't decide what made my heart race so fast and feel like it was about to collapse on its self. I was here with someone beautiful, someone fragile who had a special place in my heart but yet my heart ached, It seemed to say, in the most violent of ways, get out of here.
Perhaps it was sexual. Could I perhaps feel something sexual for the person I held in my arms, who not four hours earlier, I just wanted to hold and nothing more?
I had to go to the bathroom. That must have been it. My heart was pounding because of mistaken identity of a bladder problem disguised as sexual desire.
I told her I had to go. She turned to hug me. This is the way I would have liked to hold her rather than spooning. I wanted to kiss her lips. Could that be? I don't want that desire. Be gone you foul mouthed child who screams in my head like a cultist screams against the world!
In any case I had to go. I gave her a kiss on the cheek, pulled up her covers and made my way to the door.
The night outside was cold and bitter as I lit my cigarette. Burning passion in my heart still pulled at me even after my object had disappeared.
"You fool. You goddam fool. Wake the hell up child, you wanted to kiss her right on the lips"
"Shut the hell up you ruiner of dreams. little voice. little tiny voice that says nothing but controls everything."
My heart raced on the walk home; even with the fire I was putting in my lungs and stifling to exhale.
My heart seemed to say, "I love you, but I have no idea how to tell you." Sudden realizations in the night, or rather in the morning telling me how to use this heart.
"You can keep it! Tear it out of my chest I don't want it anymore. It only creates disaster for my already fucked up life. I hate you."
As I got home I went to the bathroom and even after this, the feeling was not gone. Even as I went to the computer to write, nothing left my soul.
My heart still ached, it could not rest, tearing apart its self like an engine firing every piston at the exact same time.
"Go to sleep you dibic! We went home, you've had your way! Fuck you!"
Perhaps it was sexual. Could I perhaps feel something sexual for the person I held in my arms, who not four hours earlier, I just wanted to hold and nothing more?
I had to go to the bathroom. That must have been it. My heart was pounding because of mistaken identity of a bladder problem disguised as sexual desire.
I told her I had to go. She turned to hug me. This is the way I would have liked to hold her rather than spooning. I wanted to kiss her lips. Could that be? I don't want that desire. Be gone you foul mouthed child who screams in my head like a cultist screams against the world!
In any case I had to go. I gave her a kiss on the cheek, pulled up her covers and made my way to the door.
The night outside was cold and bitter as I lit my cigarette. Burning passion in my heart still pulled at me even after my object had disappeared.
"You fool. You goddam fool. Wake the hell up child, you wanted to kiss her right on the lips"
"Shut the hell up you ruiner of dreams. little voice. little tiny voice that says nothing but controls everything."
My heart raced on the walk home; even with the fire I was putting in my lungs and stifling to exhale.
My heart seemed to say, "I love you, but I have no idea how to tell you." Sudden realizations in the night, or rather in the morning telling me how to use this heart.
"You can keep it! Tear it out of my chest I don't want it anymore. It only creates disaster for my already fucked up life. I hate you."
As I got home I went to the bathroom and even after this, the feeling was not gone. Even as I went to the computer to write, nothing left my soul.
My heart still ached, it could not rest, tearing apart its self like an engine firing every piston at the exact same time.
"Go to sleep you dibic! We went home, you've had your way! Fuck you!"
Saturday, July 29, 2006
The Hitman [29 Jul 2006|11:01pm]
I saw the acid stained tears running down your cheek. The sick whimper that escaped your lips and rang in my skull and empty heart forever. That rank, disheveled, "just been fucked" smell all over your body and a smoking revolver in my hand. It wasn't because I loved you; I didn't do it for that: I did it for business. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time. I don't even fucking know you. Goddamn it. Why'd you have to be here?
"BANG! BANG BANG!"
Your body fell to the floor and swooned for a moment because you saw something beautiful for the first time in your life. You saw the real you, reflected in the blood streaming from your lifeless body and onto the floor as your spirit left and floated up to a better place.
Fuck. You were a beautiful girl. It's a shame to waste life on a fuck-off like him.
The sun was just rising in the sky too. There was a sent of roses and cut grass carried on the mist brought in by the evanescing morning dew.
It made me nostalgic for a better time when I didn't get involved in this life of self-deprecating redundancy. When you're in this business you either die or get sent to jail. The second might have been better but when a wheel spins with only two choices on it, I don't enjoy my odds.
I put my pistol away and lit a cigarette. In a scratch on a record of an old love song, I saw moments of sitting on a floor with a lilliputian model T in my hands and then nothing but the thick smell of burnt black powder and freshly laid bodies of Russian mafiosos.
A gun on the table...
Two shots into the lifeless day...
Nothing.
It was high time I disappeared.
I pushed over the can of gas I had brought with me from the car and tossed my cigarette into it. The place lit up like a dry day on a ranch in hell. I couldn't see how this day could get any better. Sometimes I think it never will.
"BANG! BANG BANG!"
Your body fell to the floor and swooned for a moment because you saw something beautiful for the first time in your life. You saw the real you, reflected in the blood streaming from your lifeless body and onto the floor as your spirit left and floated up to a better place.
Fuck. You were a beautiful girl. It's a shame to waste life on a fuck-off like him.
The sun was just rising in the sky too. There was a sent of roses and cut grass carried on the mist brought in by the evanescing morning dew.
It made me nostalgic for a better time when I didn't get involved in this life of self-deprecating redundancy. When you're in this business you either die or get sent to jail. The second might have been better but when a wheel spins with only two choices on it, I don't enjoy my odds.
I put my pistol away and lit a cigarette. In a scratch on a record of an old love song, I saw moments of sitting on a floor with a lilliputian model T in my hands and then nothing but the thick smell of burnt black powder and freshly laid bodies of Russian mafiosos.
A gun on the table...
Two shots into the lifeless day...
Nothing.
It was high time I disappeared.
I pushed over the can of gas I had brought with me from the car and tossed my cigarette into it. The place lit up like a dry day on a ranch in hell. I couldn't see how this day could get any better. Sometimes I think it never will.
Thursday, June 12, 2003
A Scary Story
Many years of living has taught me the value of real life. The little things that human beings in their absent minded rat race, do not see, can mean so much more to he who has the time to see them. Especially if your own prey is the cancer that kills the little things you love.
The night I died, I will never forget, because that, was the day that I learned more about humans than I ever wanted to know...
The rain was beating the side of my cabin as I finished my trek through the woods. I was soaked but wore a cloak that kept me mostly dry. I must have sensed something wrong though because I heard each droplet of water hitting the ground and they actually sounded like water and not some allusion to something else.
A fire had been lit in the cabin and inside I saw a person's tall, dark, silhouette. From outside looking through a window, I saw him star into the fire and he seemed to make each individual ray of its light shine past him in an amorphous pattern.
There was a sense of wonder which I craved and I wanted to be near him and to touch his robes, as if I felt the power stemming from him. I turned my head to get a better look at him, shaded from the fire but as if he sensed my presence like a squirrel, he turned and then vanished.
Suddenly I felt scared as if I had upset the balance of this superficial, but also supernatural, being. I also felt saddened in a deep way and depressed that I had lost the wonder of this creature.
I moved away from the window sill and started my trek inside. I then got into my night clothes and went to bed.
The next day I woke up bright and early and went out to hunt, what was to me, the most dangerous game ... the Grizzly bear. I had a rifle the size of a large man's arm yet an inconspicuous as a fair woman's neck. I snuck up behind the grizzly and hid in a bush. Like the wolf or some skilled hunter, I stopped every time he made a move of caution.
I saw him beating the water like a child picks at his toes and his deceitful, friendly smile. I took aim and in my scope, he was there. The man with the cloak looked upon me with fluorescent green eyes and the world seemed to grow dark through the scope of my killing machine. I don't know why I kept on staring but I did.
Through a dark world he walked up to me and his face seemed almost surreal. My heart began to pound faster in my chest and every step he took closer seemed like the moment of judgment. He began to reach out and I could literally hear my pulse in my head. He leapt at me as I managed to pull my face away from the scope and scream.
I woke up to the grizzly walking away and my body aching from a dream.
That night I did not go home and look in the window. I was too busy and too sore to notice the roaring fire but as I opened the door, there he was. He did not look at me but rather his cloak swayed a little toward the door from the wind. And it seemed to sweep under his floating torso. He wore armor underneath and I knew because I saw his hands and his sword.
I screamed "what do you want from me devil!" And the body disappeared with a strong gust of wind. The fire went with him too; as if the door had opened and blown them both out. I stood there momentarily and seemed to float off to bed as the door shut.
I woke up the next morning and felt horrible so I spent the day in bed.
By night fall I could not get back to sleep so I simply went for a stroll. The clouds seemed to fall as mist descended on the night. It was like snow which hadn't froze but I felt it in the air.
The mist made it hard for me to find my way back to the cabin but my senses seemed incredibly strong tonight and I felt my way back through the mist.
Finally I found the door to my cabin and the light gray mist turned darker as I walked inside. A presence moved its way around me and seemed to quietly touch me with pokes and prods, like a child asking questions. Suddenly I felt my pulse rise as a cold hand touched my back. It seemed to not want to let go. It held onto me as my heart, uncontrollably beat faster and faster until it hurt and I could feel it everywhere.
As quick as it came, the mist was gone as I felt my heart stop beating. It began to beat again as I saw the man standing in the middle of the room and quietly I asked, who are you.
As he removed his cloak I saw her pointed ears and long hair. She was tall and wore rings and elvish looking jewelry. She looked me in the eye with her fluorescent green eyes and said, "now you're like me."
That was the day I died and 249 years later, I have felt her presence from time to time. I can feel the loneliness in her heart and I know things about the world most don't take the time to see.
That was the day I died.
Many years of living has taught me the value of real life. The little things that human beings in their absent minded rat race, do not see, can mean so much more to he who has the time to see them. Especially if your own prey is the cancer that kills the little things you love
The night I died, I will never forget, because that, was the day that I learned more about humans than I ever wanted to know...
The rain was beating the side of my cabin as I finished my trek through the woods. I was soaked but wore a cloak that kept me mostly dry. I must have sensed something wrong though because I heard each droplet of water hitting the ground and they actually sounded like water and not some allusion to something else.
A fire had been lit in the cabin and inside I saw a person's tall, dark, silhouette. From outside looking through a window, I saw him star into the fire and he seemed to make each individual ray of its light shine past him in an amorphous pattern.
There was a sense of wonder which I craved and I wanted to be near him and to touch his robes, as if I felt the power stemming from him. I turned my head to get a better look at him, shaded from the fire but as if he sensed my presence like a squirrel, he turned and then vanished.
Suddenly I felt scared as if I had upset the balance of this superficial, but also supernatural, being. I also felt saddened in a deep way and depressed that I had lost the wonder of this creature.
I moved away from the window sill and started my trek inside. I then got into my night clothes and went to bed.
The next day I woke up bright and early and went out to hunt, what was to me, the most dangerous game ... the Grizzly bear. I had a rifle the size of a large man's arm yet an inconspicuous as a fair woman's neck. I snuck up behind the grizzly and hid in a bush. Like the wolf or some skilled hunter, I stopped every time he made a move of caution.
I saw him beating the water like a child picks at his toes and his deceitful, friendly smile. I took aim and in my scope, he was there. The man with the cloak looked upon me with fluorescent green eyes and the world seemed to grow dark through the scope of my killing machine. I don't know why I kept on staring but I did.
Through a dark world he walked up to me and his face seemed almost surreal. My heart began to pound faster in my chest and every step he took closer seemed like the moment of judgment. He began to reach out and I could literally hear my pulse in my head. He leapt at me as I managed to pull my face away from the scope and scream.
I woke up to the grizzly walking away and my body aching from a dream.
That night I did not go home and look in the window. I was too busy and too sore to notice the roaring fire but as I opened the door, there he was. He did not look at me but rather his cloak swayed a little toward the door from the wind. And it seemed to sweep under his floating torso. He wore armor underneath and I knew because I saw his hands and his sword.
I screamed "what do you want from me devil!" And the body disappeared with a strong gust of wind. The fire went with him too; as if the door had opened and blown them both out. I stood there momentarily and seemed to float off to bed as the door shut.
I woke up the next morning and felt horrible so I spent the day in bed.
By night fall I could not get back to sleep so I simply went for a stroll. The clouds seemed to fall as mist descended on the night. It was like snow which hadn't froze but I felt it in the air.
The mist made it hard for me to find my way back to the cabin but my senses seemed incredibly strong tonight and I felt my way back through the mist.
Finally I found the door to my cabin and the light gray mist turned darker as I walked inside. A presence moved its way around me and seemed to quietly touch me with pokes and prods, like a child asking questions. Suddenly I felt my pulse rise as a cold hand touched my back. It seemed to not want to let go. It held onto me as my heart, uncontrollably beat faster and faster until it hurt and I could feel it everywhere.
As quick as it came, the mist was gone as I felt my heart stop beating. It began to beat again as I saw the man standing in the middle of the room and quietly I asked, who are you.
As he removed his cloak I saw her pointed ears and long hair. She was tall and wore rings and elvish looking jewelry. She looked me in the eye with her fluorescent green eyes and said, "now you're like me."
That was the day I died and 249 years later, I have felt her presence from time to time. I can feel the loneliness in her heart and I know things about the world most don't take the time to see.
That was the day I died.
Many years of living has taught me the value of real life. The little things that human beings in their absent minded rat race, do not see, can mean so much more to he who has the time to see them. Especially if your own prey is the cancer that kills the little things you love
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