I found him. I've been looking for over 20 years now to find him and I did. It wase jo 5:03 am when I encountered the true form of all emotions, all tragedy, all suffering, and all joy, a joy that is deceitful though not true joy. Deceit is what he loves, his only love, his only moral, his only reason to keep on. In Dante's Inferno the last circle of Hell is a cold, frozen lake designated to those who have committed treachery, and in my opinion there is no sin greater. Murder, Rape, Larceny and Theft are all great sins, but treachery can move entire nations to commit genocide, treachery can cause humanity to destroy its very being, treachery can ruin lives more than any other sin and in too many ways for most humans to even comprehend, but we never think of it as being the worst sin, but isn't that it's purpose? to deceive? It's doing its job every day, every hour, every second and we are all clueless that we are being distracted and used as nothing but a vessel for true evil to take its course while we look at the obvious, but it slowly but surely destroys our species, our will, our beliefs, our willingness to forgive and comfort others who may be misunderstood, we instead separate in order to help create more deceit and less discernment.
Covered in blood, blood of self-mutilation, not of others. Blood of others is too simple for him to be covered in. Self-mutilation is a form of violence that stems from deep psychological distress, torture if you will, genuine unfiltered 24-7 even when you sleep, torture. People can slit someone's throat or cut off someone's limb but doing it to yourself sounds absolutely insane even to those murderersand soul less degenerates, why you may ask? It's because ourselves is what we are supposed to protect, what we are supposed to cherish, so the idea of purposely disfiguring ourselves because we have an unfathomable, disgusting urge to do so is a feeling only very, very few can understand and they wish they didn't.
I saw self-mutilation, I saw self-dismemberment, I saw auto-cannibalism, I saw sliced throats and arteries, I saw final moments of regret, I saw the eyes of all those who couldn't believe they went through with it and wish things just would've gotten better but now its too late, I've seen that last struggling, sad and pathetic last breath, and it was as human as humanity can get. His face a pale shade, his eyes nothing but pins, his face and eye sockets are sunken and full of despair nothing but a black void with his features. He is covered in blood, your blood but his blood as well, you shed it for him and he didn't have to move a muscle. There wouldn't be many muscles to move regardless as most of his frame is that of a black snake, shiny, slimy, and glimmering like nothing you've ever seen. It moves slow and meticulous, it strikes so much fear into those who witness it as something about the pattern and direction makes you feel frozen with hopelessness, as if you know this is the end, it gives you incomprehensible shivers of wretchedness, but you can't move enough to shiver.
He says nothing, it wouldn't matter if he did as you wouldn't be able to understand his language or his logic. There's no need to speak because he speaks for you without any sounds coming out of either being. Only time he opens his gaping maw isto vomit snakes and the blood, sweat and those final involuntary bowel releases of those who have succumbed to him. His presence speaks for him, others despair speaks for him, others last words speak for him. He does nothing, he says nothing, he knows nothing. He only knows what you teach him. He is infantile, he is inferior, he is moronic, he is nothing. Nothing like you.
Covered in blood, blood of self-mutilation, not of others. Blood of others is too simple for him to be covered in. Self-mutilation is a form of violence that stems from deep psychological distress, torture if you will, genuine unfiltered 24-7 even when you sleep, torture. People can slit someone's throat or cut off someone's limb but doing it to yourself sounds absolutely insane even to those murderersand soul less degenerates, why you may ask? It's because ourselves is what we are supposed to protect, what we are supposed to cherish, so the idea of purposely disfiguring ourselves because we have an unfathomable, disgusting urge to do so is a feeling only very, very few can understand and they wish they didn't.
I saw self-mutilation, I saw self-dismemberment, I saw auto-cannibalism, I saw sliced throats and arteries, I saw final moments of regret, I saw the eyes of all those who couldn't believe they went through with it and wish things just would've gotten better but now its too late, I've seen that last struggling, sad and pathetic last breath, and it was as human as humanity can get. His face a pale shade, his eyes nothing but pins, his face and eye sockets are sunken and full of despair nothing but a black void with his features. He is covered in blood, your blood but his blood as well, you shed it for him and he didn't have to move a muscle. There wouldn't be many muscles to move regardless as most of his frame is that of a black snake, shiny, slimy, and glimmering like nothing you've ever seen. It moves slow and meticulous, it strikes so much fear into those who witness it as something about the pattern and direction makes you feel frozen with hopelessness, as if you know this is the end, it gives you incomprehensible shivers of wretchedness, but you can't move enough to shiver.
He says nothing, it wouldn't matter if he did as you wouldn't be able to understand his language or his logic. There's no need to speak because he speaks for you without any sounds coming out of either being. Only time he opens his gaping maw isto vomit snakes and the blood, sweat and those final involuntary bowel releases of those who have succumbed to him. His presence speaks for him, others despair speaks for him, others last words speak for him. He does nothing, he says nothing, he knows nothing. He only knows what you teach him. He is infantile, he is inferior, he is moronic, he is nothing. Nothing like you.
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