Undescribable Nothingness . . . . . . . . . . . .

Apparently my general apathy kept me from posting this years ago when I first scribed it. But to my nonexistent readers, here it is:

I feel like a necromancer, or a vampire, or a liche. A life of forced solitude, surrounded by nothing but ghosts. Ghosts of past loves, ghosts of past lives, of the joys that can no longer be attained, of the pure a delightful things of this world that flee madly from my presence, allowing only slight glimpses or passing caresses before withering at my touch to become another ghost in my entourage. It leaves me longing for the zombies, those hideous mindless things of the world, because at least they have substance.

Unfortunately these monstrosities can only mimic what I want and need, and which will drive me ever onward toward those things I destroy. The endless dance of immortality. If only I can attain that immortality so that the hellish masquerade doesn't consume me. At least I won't have to fear the unknown once I get there.

Back from the breach...

It's been a while since I last made an entry. The only blessed constants are that my outlook on existence has not changed, and my number of readers still only includes myself. Guess there just isn't much motivation to pose my thoughts just for myself to read. But in the same breath I truly care little if anyone ever sees these. It won't change anything. If nothing else it eases my mind, and that's really what all of this is about: me and my failings. Mayhaps at some point in my timeline I will finally meet someone worth my time, but so far I have nothing but scars to show for it. And oh how my scars tell a story. For what it's all worth, this whole stupid and useless experiment was to see if elaborating my pain. I opened my heart, and as much as I'd love to blame her, it's destruction was wrought by my own hand. Since that time it has shriveled and died, leaving a void. I've filled that void with other women, to no avail. Strong liquor, much the same. And steadily my guilt grows. With every choice I know is wrong for me, the seething tar of self loathing expands and roils. All I've left myself is my guilt, and my hate. My hate expands to all things. But most of all, my hate consumes me. My guilt over things beyond my control is irrational, and everything I know tells me so. But all of that logic just breeds more hatred. And that hatred just feeds itself into my every action. Even my successes are just an extension of my hate towards myself. I hate myself SO MUCH that I won't allow my pity and grief to come to light. With every windfall, every new connection my desire for exile and misery grows. I laugh in my mind's eye because only I know how much I deserve to fail. The world sees me as sweet, generous, and magnanimous, and all I see is the loathsome monstrosity that my failings have made of me. The worst part of all of this: no one believes me.

Klaatu Baratta Nicto.....

Let it never be said that wisdom and knowledge makes one's life easier. All the wisdom of the world can not provide happiness, no matter how hard we try. By the cursed powers of the old gods they are beyond usefulness. I would give anything to be blissfully ignorant of any and everything. My life would only be improved without any of the things that I know. Regret is the only true reward of knowledge, because to gain knowledge we must sacrifice. Wisdom being the application of knowledge requires even more sacrifice, thus more regret. The terrible truth is the more we have to regret, the more we learn, and all my regret has taught me is that I will never drink of the sweet waters of forgiveness, for I will never forgive myself. To the abyssal depths and burning hells with the world and it's inhabitants. I am akin only to the Fallen, cast down from Grace. I, like them, know that redemption is not far from my grasp, but I refuse to reach for it. My soul is a demon given flesh, and my mind is dark and twisted for it. My heart is a solid piece of obsidian, hardened and unfeeling, for that is how I choose it to be.

Furthermore, since no one else will ever read these written words I suppose I could bear what is left of my soul, if for no reason other than to rest my deluded mind. I ache for companionship, for the warmth of a person who cares for me and me alone. I crave a family of my own, children to raise, to teach how to be better people than the worthless dregs society has produced. Children who will cherish intelligence and knowledge over the blatantly insipid ignorance and unbridled insanity that has become common place in this waste of space we currently survive in. I yearn to know the joy of having a normal life, but I know that it will never happen for me. I am not to have these things, no matter what I do and it fills me with rage. My every fiber is infused with the burning hatred for everyone and everything around me, most of all myself. I hate that I want what I will never let myself have. I hate that no matter what I do, the monsters remain, because I will forever be one of them. I am the villain. I do not win. I do not get what I strive for. I am destined to fight for the rest of eternity, regardless of who the hero may be.

May the world burn for the sake of burning. May the sun be forever darkened. My the light of salvation be extinguished by the unending darkness of harsh reality. It be not for me to care.

The Hunter, The Prey.....

I am Sagittarius, the Archer. But can an obscure astrological reference REALLY affect my life so much? Am I type cast to do everything that corresponds to a figure I've never even seen? And if so, should I not just wander the globe, free to do whatever I choose whenever I choose, for that is the spirit of the Archer. I wonder these things as I go through my current trials and tribulations. All I know is that I know much, and understand little, and it perturbs me. I also know that due to recent insanity on my part, the best conversation I've had lately has been with myself, literally. The best part is that no one seems to notice, which is amazing to me. Thank god for friends I guess : /

Quintesentially Perfect

I have found that the best way for me to be the man I know and pray I can be is to love as the moon. She is patiently aloof, controlling the seas and the minds and hearts of men for eons. She gives light yet no warmth, asking for nothing because she truly gives very little. It is in this way that I feel I should love from now on. I will be a cold and distant light, never attaching myself to anything again. It os through numerous failed attachments that I've come to realize my life is infinitly better when I never commit to a single course of action. Though I yearn to settle down with a companion, rest my swords above the mantle such as it were, and raise a family, I feel it will never happen. The parts of me that strain and strive to put to use my love for children and another person do not take into account the realities of my person. I am crude and brash, often surly and bitter. These things do not a father make, and it breaks my heart completely to feel this way. May the rest of my personality fall in line with this new theorem, for if not I will truly become a hollow shell of humanity, careless and mindless, wandering through the remainder of my days.

Star date........

I wish I could get lost in the stars the more I look at them. I only have a very basic understanding and knowledge of the heavens, but I feel better when I watch them. The moon is my best friend in the world, due to the simple fact that no matter what happens, what I say, she listens without reproach. I have people I talk to, but thats to keep from losing my mind : / The moon is my lover and confidant, for never will she forsake me for anther. It's at times such as these in my life that it becomes most important to me that I remember her, for I feel all others have cast me by the wayside. The worst of it is that my misery is probably mostly of my own making : (

Lost In The Void . . . . . . . . .

My travels have been hindered as well as my documentation due to an unexpected stay in the nameless timeless void of incomprehensible neutrality. I have just been, purely and simply. No particular joy, or dispair, just exsisting. It is tiresome and lonely, and I have no control over how, when, or why I end up here. Hopefully I will find my way out soon. Hopfully . . .