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In damnation you shall know me |
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Evil is ... a moral entity and not a created one, an eternal and not a perishable entity; it constituted the monstrous, the execrable being who was also to fashion such a hideous world. It will hence exist after the creatures which people this world. |
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- Marquis De Sade, L'Histoire de Juliette, ou les Prosperites du Vice- |
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Mother won't you come and pour poison in my ear. Let the sweet truth burn my mind, let me drink sweet blood from your breast. In my dreams I hear the children cry, they are suffering. I do not suffer, I endure and relish in every new masochistic revelation that you levy upon me. Sadistic Mother, you pluck at my nerves, castrate me, flog me, burn me, chain me. Never have I loved anyone more then you. Mother, Sire, unleash the vices within me. |
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This rain, will it ever stop? It has been pouring for days now. The city, gray and desolate, the streets devoid of life, save for those wretched things like I that crawl the street. Once I would have thought this to be poetic, but now, no. Once the blood of my Domitor laced with all kinds of mindnumbing drugs both natural and syntetic brought me succor. Succor from a world that is dying and beneath which lies hell waiting for the world to tumble into it. There where so many moments I did not want to think about this, I welcomed the intoxication and relished the sweet visions it would bring. My Domitor became my Sire, and my Sire left me.I left the sect of the Sabbat for the safety of the Camarilla, or so I wished it would have been. I tried to regain my humanity, but found out that even with my humanity I would never be human. I wanted my life back, but it was not there waiting for me like I had hoped. Can I blame myself? No, I was young and foolish, now I'm still young but no longer foolish. These gray buildings looming up, this city, it is a tomb to the many living who waste away in it's embrace. Drugs no longer work directly, but the blood of crack-whores, bums, runaways gone bad, and lechers soothes me. This pouring rain, this fucking pouring rain. I used to think it washed the world clean. It is acidic enough to be a detergent but it lets the filth wash out of the sewers instead of the other way around. |
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I look up to the sky to see the heavens, the moon and the stars. Before the embrace I never realised how cold light can be. I never knew how poisonous fluorescent light could be. I never knew how rancid neon light could be. Now that my senses have increased in power by the embrace I see the world as it is. I can see what humans really are, they're all the same, the same muscles and skin streched over the same bone the same organs pumping and pounding, desperatly trying to live. The brain, a filthy mass of gray mush floating in a stagnant pool. The skin, crawling with nerves that betray every tender kiss and ever painful cut to the brain. Hell made flesh, and flesh made Hell. Nothing more then skin and membranes, bone and flesh and bitter and acrid liquids powered by electricity and that one spiritual liquid that gives it life, blood. Then there is us, the vampires, kindred, cainites, whatever, we're dead but the spiritual essence of the human and bestial body keeps us alive, blood.So looking up to the sky I realise, all life is shit except for the blood. Actually that's sounds depressing so I look around me instead of the cold sky and notice that my view of the world hasn't changed much. I grin, I know what the shit of the world can do, it can feel so good and hurt just as bad. Somehow you've got to love all of it. Life isn't worth living but it's not like anyone has a better thing to do, so why not? So I find myself sinfully indulging in the flesh and skin of those around me, pretty boys. |
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Another shot, or drink would maybe be a better word. The world becomes sharper and yet fuzzier. I'm floating but I feel heavy. I sink down, down into the abyss of my subconcious mind, that hell that lives beneath the skin of the world. My skin grows cold, I close my eyes and sag against the wall of my rundown appartmant. Darkness spreads all around me, an immasurable space of only pure blackness. Cold and empty, I dream cold empty dreams of fallen saints lying broken on the floor.I sink down into a stagnant sea of throbbing red and my senses float away from my body leaving only my mind to float here. Whirling vortexes spin me round, I grasp but there is nothing to hold on to, I let go, of sensibility, of reality, and of sanity. I plunge down deep and I'm spat out into the cold unwelcoming world. My appartment is cold as always, my head throbs and my eyes open like battered shutters. The light of a single lightbulb stabs at my eyes. Before me a young boy, pretty, a runaway, is lying on the ground, I lean over and kiss his cold but living skin. The gorgeous body struggles for survival, pumping and thobbing. Electiral currents slither through his nerves, his muscles, and his brain. His breath turns into white fog in the cold air. He lives, he will live, but he won't remember me. I will put him outside somewhere, leave him some cash for pity's sake and dissapear. |
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Back to the Sanctum Sanctorum |
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