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Bloodlust. The hunger. Hungry for the blood of innocence. Mine? Yours? Yes.

You fucking bitch.

Power. So pure; so dirty. I can feel the blood rushing through my veins. I love you, little girl... precious you are. You belong to me. An instrument; a toy. Your form is my fixation- your flesh, my fascination. Concentration. I want to humiliate you. I want to find the line between all that horrifies you and all you need to keep the thrill alive. Let me show you the fire. Ecstasy... agony... celibacy.

I'm going to hurt you.

Burning. Violence is golden. She sucks me in- her body speaks. Signals. Desires. The architecture.... programming- it's in the coding. She's my email. My mask. My meth.

I'm going to eat you.

Attraction. Magnets. The light flickers in my bosom again- it's been too long. It hurts. There is no control. The pressure builds. Pain. I'm starving; it fuels me. Pain. You filthy whore. Pornography. All that it might be. When? The fantasy's good enough... for now. Suffer. Master. The pressure builds. Hold it in. The pressure builds. Hold it in. PRESSURE. Just one more... XXXXXXXXX. Orgasm. Release. Love. ONE. Birth. ONE. Joy. Divinity. Purity. Life. I cherish you, little girl. But you hurt me... you can only hurt me. You sweet little bitch.

She gave me the key. It's a secret. The secret to life. Don't tell anyone. It's a secret key. The kingdom key. It opens heaven's gate... through the splendor of hell. You can't tell anyone- everyone knows. It's duality. It's duality. It's hatred. The love you give me. It's magic. A magic dream. A fucking nightmare. The love you give me. I hate you all. I'm going to kill you. I'm going to kill you. But make me smile first. And laugh. And let me feel the rush. Lie to me. Lie with me. Let me feel the rush.

This is my kingdom. A world of torture. It swallows me. All is full of love. And fury. You are my children. You are my living hell. Black magic, white magic: ONE.

She's a lost and lonely child, acting out scenes for my attention whilst ignoring me. "You're my God", she says to me.

She lives as everyone; she is my everything.

She's the Devil.

But she's all I have.

I'm still not sure what life is. I only know it hurts. Maybe I can hold her someday. Maybe I should try.

There are times she's so beautiful it makes me want to kill myself. Because her eyes are vacant. She can talk, maybe she can even fuck, but she'll never know me. Never.

Sometimes, in small ways, I think it might be ok to be alive. I know it's not, but all I have is my denial. My trust. And I give it all away to the dead and dreaming. I struggle against her petty cruelty and devastating indifference with a heavy heart and suicide dreams. I try to reach for her- even if only with words on a computer screen to an imaginary audience- looking for those rare moments of pleasure in this madness. The pleasure of evil.

And she says "That's right, daddy. This is the big time, sugar. You're on your way".

Maybe, baby. Maybe.


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building a mystery

you come out at night
that's when the energy comes
and the dark side's light
and the vampires roam
you strut your rasta wear
and your suicide poem
and a cross from a faith
that died before Jesus came
you're building a mystery

you live in a church
where you sleep with voodoo dolls
and you won't give up the search
for the ghosts in the halls
you wear sandals in the snow
and a smile that won't wash away
but can you look outside your window
without your SHADOW getting in the way?
oh you're so beautiful
with an edge and a charm
but so careful
when I'm in your arms

'cause you're working
building a mystery
yeah you're working
building a mystery
holding on and holding it in
and choosing so carefully

give us a tantrum
and a know it all grin
just when we need one
when the evening's thin

oh you're a beautiful
a beautiful fucked up man
you're setting up your
razor wire shrine

-Sarah McLachlan


My shadow just spoke to me. Here's what she said:

"Don't cry, love. It's only everything. Life is innocent. It doesn't mean to hurt you- it has no choice in the matter. They're can't even see you, Alexander. Your innocence comes from the fact that you can still see that there's good even in the face of pain and cruelty. It is a slow and bitter process, yes, but you know every loss and failure serves to point you in a different direction- as does every mindless vessel of skin and bone that surrounds you wherever you are: your human satellites. They'll find you in time."

Drowning in a sea of darkness, talking to the eloquence of evil. It lives within- and reflects without. And from inside the yearning she spoke again:

"Do you know what you are? You're hope. They will never be aware of you, but you give them everything you have. Everything you are. And you get back mostly pain. But every once in a while you get little moments of beauty. And you value those times now more than ever. It's the only reason for anything.

Stay what you are."


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