i don’t know what i have done to deceive everyone? i have been lying to everyone my whole life and i don’t know… what am i still doing? what have i missed or forgotten or hidden or obscure? i am manipulative and twist everyone’s brains and minds and perceptions. i am unwilling to change. i am rope.
i wrap myself around the neck and tighten like a noose. then i lead you to where i want you to go. i throw my voice or a flash of light to misdirect your ears and eyes. i make you believe whatever i want you to believe. which is that i am anything but evil.
Who else sees what I see?
but that is sheer manipulation. i am evil. i am a liar. i am not a liar. i just misdirect and misrepresent. there is no such thing as anything. there is not such thing as hope. no such thing as love. no such thing as light or life.
we’re all just dead echoes that reverb through the emptiness of space for all of no time. i’m a ghost and i jump from body to body while i remain right here. my shadow works for me and clouds your mind while i do what i like. with is twist and lie and manipulate everything.
i am a psychopath. i kill babies and animals. i kill memories and dreams. i kill kill kill everything that i place before you and me.
i am a sociopath and am incapable of changing. i like manipulating and playing with your brains. i do not have any mental health issues, there is nothing wrong with me except i have no soul (that’s why I prey on people, I make you want to give me yours).
I am my own worst enemy
i’m obsessed with creatures and beings and imaginary things, and overlaying my form over them and theirs over me. but they’re not real. like me. nothing i say or do or feel is anything real, or true, or existent.
this is a pattern of behaviour. this is the way that i am. i will suck the life out of you all if you just give me the chance.
i don’t know what i am supposed to have done… i was more open online that i was with anyone not. i don’t talk of these beliefs because they’re not real. because they’re lies. that’s why i lies about them online in my writing. because my face and my body language and my voice give my truth away – that there is nothing worth anything good in me. nothing worth anything.
obsessed obsessive and relentless in my stubborn view. i am a monolithic giant stone statue buried in the ground. a golden calf of idolatry and bullshit. smelt my metal down and apply me towards something actually useful. i can be those gold foil leaves you can use in arts and crafts. or some intoxicating beverage that you can actually consume. once the dizziness and nausea of bad spirits and wine has passed, when i have been processed by your system I am forever gone you’ll never have to deal with me again.
(Figuratively. An allusion to Alice, and Bacchus, and their drunky concoction mcCider)
Originally published 17 February 2019 // reposted (yet MOSTLY unchanged to serve as a sticky poker in your memory) 10 June 2019.
haha the time is 9:11 am! And my phone is at 22% battery. Oh wait, the time is now 9:12 am.
I guess it’s time to stop mourning the past and see the light of the new morning star.
I am the dawn, the harbinger of light. I am the soul of the sun, 1 of the ogdoad.
I am not demonic, you may think I’m spelling magic curses in verse, or some sort of hex.
I assure you I’m as pathetic and base as every single one of you to ever exist. You’re just intrigued by my aura and breath. How many times must I remind you to see, every thing is already written and made and answered and understood and beautiful…
Communication is the bane of my existence. It is my skill with which I kill. My tongue, the subtle sword of 2 sharp edges, hidden in the dark cave of my mouth. It’s not forked, but it is thrice barred. Once long ago, but remembered just the same.
The Cyclops have but 1 eye in the land of the blind. When that is removed, you see you have your own eyes – and there are 2.
Applause! Rain roses upon her and her state of rebelutionary wisdom and witticism!
Brava! Bravoos! Water dancer weaving the trapestry trapeze for the arsonist acrobat.
I guess this is the intermission? Half hour of silence from the visionary’s scene. The audience may now stand and move about, speak up and make audible before the Return of the Kin make known their auguries on August 19.
Go to the bathroom, get some refreshments, buy some merch from the lobby.
Book a tarot reading, give unto me token financial compensation. Validate my parking permit. Then I’ll tell you the real true secret of the secret.