Sunday, January 19, 2014

Am I Satan

Vlad the Impaler, the true Dracula who drank his victims blood to absorb their essence.

Wicked willows wallowing in sweet despair as a cardinal lands on a telephone wire. Rats in walls and roaches in halls, pentagrams and inverted crucifixion. Goat's heads and dreams in baphomets eye.

Paranoia twists life: drugs, fear of burglary, alienation in a place so full of people. Peace is a long lost memory. Assimilation into the tribe.

Psychic clairvoyance to a world outside our own. A world of varying fathoms of evil. Fragments of prescient vision slipping between frightening visions of war. The dogs of war call my name to join their ranks. From outside reality a hundred clawed hands grasp the tattered remains of my psyche.

I self impose a form to make it my own. I use sex to depict an inner pain. I use grass to find perspective. I stand when I play, forcing strange darkness upon an unworthy audience. Lust for the forbidden, donning the forsaken robes. Soiled virgin with the evil seed. Sucked into the womb. Taking thy woman as my own. Aleister Crowley sex magick. Sacred blood orgy.

The inverse psyche. Inverse religion.

Yogic circles. The dragon lady. See you soon.