Hmm Hello There Allow Me to Introduce Myself

While reading over previous incarnations of introductions I realized that I have never actually properly introduced myself.  These are the things that I keep meaning to say but somehow get lost when I get caught up in writing. In a way I wish you could see the world as I see it. I wish I could bring you into the splendor, beauty, and horror that is where my mind lives most of the time.

I try to bring you there I really do but it doesn’t always work out really well. This is where your comments come in. Even if it was just a hey I liked that description or I hated what you wrote they tell me that someone is at least thinking about what I write. I don’t ever delete them bad or good and with the exception of racial slurs I publish them all.

  1. I am completely crazy. Just when you think I am not you will notice something else that slides its slick slippery way into my writing and therefore into your mind. Come to think of it I like the thought of part of my mind writhing somewhere wet and dark in your head.
  2. I don’t know if I enjoy being crazy although some days are better than others.
  3. I want to die

So we have an open invitation to comment, rant, yell, scream, vent, talk, whisper, or scream and you have an open invitation to participate in killing another human who wants to be killed.

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Not OK

He said he would love me but was scared of the 1% of the time I was crazy. So he doesnt want me. Why does that bother me? Because I don’t want me. No one does.

Obsecro, mihi facultas videndi Deum angelis et demonibus – da mihi aliter vive – contra – O facultatem ad me, et audite obsecro ut interficias me, et pugnate pro eis vel.

Dieu s’il vous plaît me donner la possibilité de voir vos anges et les démons – me montrer une autre façon de vivre – lutter – s’il vous plaît m’aider et me donner la possibilité de voir et entendre les aider ou s’il vous plaît me tuer.

Gott gib mir bitte die Möglichkeit, Ihren Engel und Teufel zu sehen – zeigen Sie mir eine andere Art zu leben – zu kämpfen – bitte helfen Sie mir und geben mir die Fähigkeit zu hören und ihnen helfen, oder bitte töte mich zu sehen.

Ο Θεός παρακαλώ να μου δώσετε τη δυνατότητα να βλέπουν αγγέλους και διαβόλους σας – δείξτε μου έναν διαφορετικό τρόπο για να ζήσουν – για την καταπολέμηση της – παρακαλώ να με βοηθήσει και να μου δώσει τη δυνατότητα να δει ακούσει και να τους βοηθήσει ή μπορείτε να με σκοτώσει.

الله من فضلك أعطني القدرة على رؤية الملائكة والشياطين الخاص – تبين لي طريقة مختلفة للعيش – لمحاربة – الرجاء مساعدتي وتعطيني القدرة على رؤية نسمع ومساعدتهم أو يرجى قتلي.

يرجى قتلي.

मुझे मार दें.

obsecro ut interficias me.

eye

What I want

I offer to let you use me in any way that you want – no request is too strange or unusual. I would love for you to do to me what pops into that wonderfully wicked brain of yours.

Ever wonder why… every wonder what I want in return. As it turns out not a whole lot. I just want to tie you down and find out what makes you scream in pleasure… and if I can’t have that pain… but what I truly want is to find where the two meet for you, where they become one inside of you. I want to shatter you into millions of kaleidoscope pieces where the jagged pieces of you slice into my flesh embedding themselves into my flesh so that I can carry a piece of you with me all the time. I want to crack your chest open and crawl inside to curl around your heart, so I can listen to your heart beat from the inside and feel its deadly rhythm beating all around me.

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Is there anyone

I don’t understand why my mind does what it does or comes up with what it sees. Some are brilliant inventions and I know exactly how they work and some are dark and twisted things that kill when you look directly at them. Mad killer I wait until you decide I am your victim, someone who just wanted to know what it is like to kill than I invite you to try it with the complete disclaimer that I asked you to and the estate will take care of your legal fees.

Ok So I am a bit more fucked up than normal

Rule number 1 Always have an exit strategy

Rule number 2 When you start to make your self think that you are crazy you probably are

Rule number 3 When you can no longer cope use the exit strategy

When pain outweighs the ability to cope then it is time not stop struggling to cope

When you want to scream scream. when you want to cry cry you know where this is heading I really am not sure that I am going to survive this.

Yet Another Holiday – Happy Ishtar Everyone… or is it Easter – No I don’t mean the bad movie

No I didn’t spell that wrong. It is pronounced Easter and is the name of a guess what… Pagan Goddess. Now I thought valentines day was bad with the strange origins but Ishtar is the goddess of love and war in some cultures and just love or just war in others. I always thought love and war were the same thing which is why I probably never married.

So we have the goddess of love and war whose symbols are rabbits and eggs – fertility yeah. Let me just jump up and celebrate fertility. Sorry not quite my thing. Sex yes whelping no…

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What I want

I make it no secret that I will eventually die either by a situation I have put myself in or by my own hand. I do not want anyone to misunderstand this fact. It is not that I dislike life (I do but that is besides the point) its that I dislike living it.

It is not fair that people who want to live die and people who want to die live. Another one of god’s strange ironies I guess like the platypus or opossum. I don’t expect anyone to read the crazed rantings of what rattles around in that empty head of mine. Maybe someone will discover this and realize that it is ok. Its ok to feel like this and not hate yourself for it. Heck if you feel like this you already have enough reason to hate yourself you don’t need any more.

People may ask why I haven’t done it yet. I have often pondered that question when I slide a razor slowly across my skin wishing it were a lovers caress. Watching the red blood tickle its way down my arm trying to tantalize me into making the deeper, feeling more blood sliding down with a soft plink on the tile floor. I listen carefully enraptured by the feeling and the sound of blood slowly draining from my body. The blood caresses my flesh making me shiver and my eyes roll back just for a moment. God it would feel wonderful and decadent. But there are not that many people left in my world and the darkness is closing in.

I wish I could lose myself in the feeling. Let it be the only thing I feel, close off all my other senses to the blade, the blood, and the feel of it. I can feel your warm body beside me, behind me pushing me back against your bare chest. My head lulls against your shoulder surrendering myself to the sensation of the cold metal and your warmth. I can feel each cut, each time the blade slips inside my skin, the ultimate penetration. Not enough to kill be enough to feel it when we fuck later. The sex after is always desperate and frantic (at least for me) I am not sure if I am proving that I am alive or wanting you to plunge the knife deeper so that you can revel in the feel of my life, my blood pour out onto your flesh. Please

Wind

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Today the wind slides across the black sand as I have decided to stay inside my cage for a while longer. I can see it blow tiny puffs of dust across the stark plain. In the distance A plumb of dust floats toward the swirling sky as if something is coming. I wonder vaguely what it could be before shaking my head and allowing it to hang down once again.

I take my finger and draw the symbols I once knew and once cared about. They seem strange to me I stare at them and try to make sense of what they should mean. Just as love once meant something, as did life, and hope. I wonder how I got this far, how I could bury myself so far inside. Yet to be glad that I did it it doesn’t hurt so much in my self made prison, I don’t feel as much the only thing that still stays with me is the knowledge that as soon as I am no longer needed I will no longer live. I will seek out death and make its acquaintance perhaps we will be friends when it is all over with.

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The Beginning

I sit watching the sunlight dance off the black sand as the hot breeze rustles the leaves that my prison has grown to protect me. Why the architects protect me I am not sure, why I am not impaled on the cross or pinned to the earth with spikes to be burned and torn apart like Prometheus.

There was a time before here. At least I think there was a time before here. There are vague memories that float through my mind things that when I try to hang onto them they slip like mercury through my fingers. It had to start somewhere right?

Tonight I give myself a headache trying desperately to remember what came before but they whisper to me, their hissing voices seem to overlap making it impossible to distinguish reason from sanity or sanity from hope.

As the day burns bright I lay on the floor of my prison trying to listen to what the voices are saying no longer sure that they are talking to me or each other. I want to ask about the beginning, the start of things, how I came to be locked in this world kept safe even from myself.

I remember the monkey, his laughter and playful nature, how he would make me smile even when the world was falling apart.

I remember the jackal, his quick wit and subtle mind along with his viscous nature, how I felt safe and terrified at the same time, feeling his strength ripple under my finger tips and the sharpness of his teeth as they tore into my flesh.

I remember the horse who was my strength, my loyalty, my heart, and my hope, and my peace all wrapped up in a massively powerful body. A mane that I could wrap my fingers into  to pull him close and hold him against my heart.

I remember the cat the inscrutable one who always had a cheshire grin. The one who taught me what it was to feel fear and enjoy it.

They created the quiet. The precious calm that wrapped itself around me the same way they wrapped themselves around me until there was nothing left of me. Sometimes one at a time and sometimes they would all be around their hands on me and bodies pressed close.

In the end the horses strength failed, the monkey slipped into madness, and the jackal like his counterpart in the Inuit legend ate himself and the cat lost his grin and his drive and ultimately any feeling he had for me, I think his quiet is gone just like mine is.

I miss them more than I miss myself. It is only a matter of time.

So true!
So true!

On the Edge

As I curl in my living prison watching the leaves that shielded me all day I realize that it is happening again. The reason why I live my life in this desolate land of twisted images and all things sharp and dangerous. Sometimes I am ok and can peak out into the world, the real world. It usually isn’t long before the mask slams down over my features forcing a smile that never quite reaches my eyes. My frayed and fractured world is safe behind the walls inside me.

Most of the time I can function in both worlds, the one of pain and pleasure, and the real one with the people in it. Then there are times that I can’t. I can feel it happening like something blooming deep inside my chest. I can feel the darkness spread seeping through the organs and bone more efficient than the spread of the most aggressive cancer and the darkness is twice as deadly.

This is not new. This is not different. This does not change. I can only hide from it for so long before I start to slip. This is just the beginning. I know it will get worse, I know how bad it will hurt, and I know what my body will scream for. I always hope it won’t come back, always hope that it is gone for good, and I can hide in my world letting the architects of this existence build their strange constructs.

People say that it will pass, and that I shouldn’t think about it. These phrases along with cheer up make me wonder what the person saying it looks like without skin or better yet choking on their own tongue.

The question that is always asked is “Are you homicidal or Suicidal?” I have always wondered what would happen if I grinned at the person asking and answered with the truth “Both.” Something in my eyes always keeps them from asking – it also keeps the people close to me from pushing me too far for fear of me snapping which one day will happen.

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