| Noose... |
"make me go crazy� I die for you, bleed from the throat, dying drowning suffer in my personal hell� watch as I make you scream like a banshee, like a demon, like a zombie, like me? I want you to like me. I want you to like me I want you to like me I want me to like you I want you and me to like me and you I want me to like you I want me to love you I want to love you I to feel you I want to feel her I want to feel her goodness I want her goodness I want to feel her awful goodness. I taste the evil awful goodness bad kitty I want to taste the blood it makes me feel good it makes me feel good it makes me feel� feel�to feel? What is to feel? I don�t feel do I? I feel me I don�t want to feel I want to feel weakness I want to feel her weakness I like the taste I want to die for her I want to die for him I want to die for them all I don�t want to die I want to suffer I don�t have the time to bother with you people you people? I don�t know you people I am you people I am people I am a person I am a person I am a person iamapersoniamapersoniamaperson I want to die and taste the blood and feel the pain I want to suffer I like the taste I like the anger I like the energy I like the speedrushpowerforceenergyfeeling iwanttodie I dare you I dare you I am you I dare me I dare me to be you I don�t want to be you you don�t want to be me Look! I cant die hmmm oh well just didn�t try hard enough trygagaintryagainagainagainagain don�t quit don�t give up don�t stop. Never stop never don�t�stop� keep going almost there Oh my god � there �no! don�t ever stop keep going do it again never again I don�t want you you�re through get out I don�t need you I hate you don�t give up I didn�t mean it I want you I need you I want to feel you come back I want to feel our awful goodness I need it I like the taste I need to be here I need it again I taste it already just one little bite? I need it I need it ineeditineeditineeditineedit let me taste it it feels so good watch it bleed it needs to bleed I want to bleed I cant bleed I cant die I always come back I am always back I don�t die he wont let me I want to die I cant die let me die die die die die leave me alone I don�t come back I never leave I am him I wont let me die let me stay I don�t want to go yet I�m not ready she�s not ready leave her here she doesn�t want to be here she needs to be here I don�t want her I need her here I want her iwanther iwantherawfulgoodness im bad leave me alone leave them alone leave him here too hes not here anway good he doesn�t deserve to be here I hate him I want him to stay who is he who is she I don�t care my world has ended today I want to leave don�t make me stay I want to stay don�t make me leave Im too perfect for you im too perfect for you im too, im�perfect for you im too imperfect for you I want you your too perfect for me I cant have you forbidden fruit let me taste I don�t care the serpent doesn�t bite that hard I don�t bite that hard I like the taste I need the life I need it I need the taste let me taste I have to drink just a little bite I need it I want it I hate it I love it I need the hate I hate the need I need to hate I need to hate the need I hate to need the hate I hate me I hate you I love us help me? Don�t needwanthatelovefeel it bow to me mow to me bow to me bow to you I bow to you I bow to you I bleed to you I bleed for you I die for you let me die I wantfeelneedhate love you"
This is what I used to be. This is me on the inside. This is me now. These are my thoughts, as they flowed from me to binary. If I say I always tell the truth, I am automatically labeled a liar. So be it. But this is what the liar has to say.
I have tried to kill myself many times now. I just want it all to end. I know you would say "if you really wanted to do it, you would have already been dead."
Such is the case for the multitude and the many. Such is the case for the norm and the majority. I am special. I have a purpose. I am not allowed to leave quite yet.
Am I conceited? Am I egotistic? Perhaps, but not about these things. I spent my childhood being raised by spirits. I grew up with the undead souls of angels and daemons; archangels and demons; beasts, monsters, ghosts, and Gods.
Deny my words as you will. I am a tortured soul. I suffer without pain. I hurt without a tear. I want to die.
I once slit my wrists. If you go up the vein, you'll really die from it. Don't try to show off and go across the wrist. Slice up the arm, following that little blue trail that is the lifeline that holds you to this existence. I did it across, I did it up, I did it through and diagonal and every other way I could, never realizing that it never hurt me to want to die from my life.
I lost a lot of blood. A lot. I was supposed to be dead, and at the subconscious point that I realized it still didn't hurt, I knew something was bad. I was never going to be allowed to hurt myself. I can't die by my own hand.
You won't believe me. No one ever did. No one ever will. I was kept alive by someone I saw while I lay on the cold, damp concrete floor that I called home.
Have you ever seen an angel? Sure you have. Many have, but most don't realize it. Too bad. But if you have, let me ask you this: have you ever seen an angry angel?
Gabriel protect me. But he does it because he has to. He hates me, as much as angels can hate. An angry archangel is more horrifying than a burning demon. Fire cannot burn like the heat of divine light.
Gabriel came to me as I lay basically deceased on the stone. He hated me for trying to waste myself. He thinks it selfish. He thinks it arrogant. He hates suicide in general. But still he protects me. Pain can always be healed. Therefore, I can endure as much as he will let me; all of it. But death is not something my archangel will let me bear. I am not yet pure enough to heal the disease of the deceased.
This is me. I am SOOO fucking special. Whoop dee fucking doo! I am better than you right? Just because I have a fucking guardian archangel that couldn't give a shit if my eyes are gouged out with a rusty fucking spoon, just so long as I am still able to keep on breathing. Go me for being special. How the fuck do you think Jesus felt when he was told he was the son of God? Do you think he wanted others to respect him, to love and obey him? Fuck no. Talk to the man. He went nuts. He screamed. He cried. He bled for himself, just to bleed, to end it all.
How do I know all this?
I just do. As I said, I am a tortured soul. Gods don't like torture, they really don't. Tortured souls get special grants, like: being able to see through Hell's most devious guise-the darkness. Like: being able to speak with those who have nothing better to do but to be dead and talk back with you. Like: knowing that Heaven's gift of blood is more sacred than any Holy Water.
I was granted all my gifts out of pity, and now it is pity that I hate most.
I no longer want to die. I want to be free. That is all.
I now realize I am not human. Sure I have the physical form of a monkey, but that is all you see. I talk with the dead, with the Holy and the Unholy.
I communicate between the Netherrealms and the Promised Land.
I am empty...
I have no soul...
I am one...
This makes me something, I now realize, something I don't like...
Something I hate...
I am a punished daemon.
I am a Fallen Angel sent to the only Hell in which an angel can feel pain.
I am Daemon.
Cry for me. Tears of blood...
When Everything Was Ugly... - And Ugly It Remains...