The mortal goddess had a very long talk with the mind doctor. Told him that she is okay but doctor was worried with all the issues she has been writing in her journal. Damn that doctor for being nosy. Must be the friend, reading the entries and relaying everything to the doctor. I hate them already.
She begged him to leave her alone. Doctor said that the mutual friend was also worried. They are worried for her. Once again, she’s wallowing in depression. It should be stopped. She has this tendency of overreacting over silly things. I wanted to speak up but she told me to stay put. I let her do her business with the doctor. The doctor wanted to see her on a regular basis again. She said no.
The call was indeed futile, as after hanging up the phone she went back sobbing. I have no idea why she is sad again. She has someone who loves her now. However, the situation scares her all the more. Having someone to love her that much is not something she is accustomed to. She quivers for the unknown impending doom. Although her overwhelming fear empowers me, I am not a bit happy about the whole thing.
She does feel alone. I tried to cheer her up although it is not of my nature to amuse people. However, I am obliged. She is the other me no matter how I hate the thought.
I wanted to go out and savor the chilling air. She complained of upset stomach. Her fault anyway. She has not been feeding her mortal body with normal food. Always crunching on what they call junk foods. The taste of it I abhor with passion. I can not stand another bite of those potato chips but the mortal loves it with all her heart.
We talked about her worries, predicaments and fears. She has nothing to be afraid of, I explained mutely. But she, being the obnoxious stubborn one that she is, insisted that everything is not all right. She has succumbed to the corner of darkness. She mused that emptiness creeps in her vein, not wanting to go away, not matter how hard she tries to shake it off.
I can not do this alone any longer. If she can not help her herself, who am I to do something for her? She needs to clear her mind. Although it may mean my weakening, I am willing to give in.
I never wanted her to be lonely. I, the ultimate temptress, can not bear the thought that my mortal half is shattering into pieces.
All these must end… but how?
The pain continues.
Sunday, October 23, 2005
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
Cry to Heaven
We again walked all the way home from the doctor's office. The mortal goddess fretted all the time, her foot hurts: the usual complaint. She mumbled something and I told her to speak louder.
She told me that she worried a lot about my silence these days. I told her that I have nothing important to accomplish, hence, the silence. My opinions never mattered to her. Why, did she ever stop doing whatever she needed to do to hear me out? No, she never did. She continued her endless day dreamings and mindless wanderings.
My deafening silence was actually a rebellion. A rebellion that stemmed from her disastrous decisions. Most nights, I go out and tried to walk the worry away. I worried for her safety, for her health and most of all, for her sanity. All these human beings that abused her can't seem to get enough of her, and yet, she conceded their foolishness and ended up feeling dejected afterwards.
Human! When am I going to understand beings like you?
As always, as a means to distract her, I pointed the various sceneries along the way. I encouraged her to pick some roses, stomped on some wild grasses growing along the sidewalk gardens. She happily grind some insects under her heels.
I know that she was trying to be gay. I don't have much time to worry about her now. She is trying to manage on her own. Or is she?
As I looked around me, I saw couples walking hand in hand. I could sense the envy in the heart of the goddess, for she too missed the feeling of having someone hold her tiny hands. I tried to take her hand into mine. We looked silly so I let her go.
Some couples enjoy the blissful blow of the hot summer wind on the park benches. Some are really seated close to each other. Some are merely stroking each partner's skin with tender caresses. Again, I felt her jealousy.
I tried to talk her out of it and asked about the last session with the doctor. She honestly told me that she actually hated seeing that shrink, and that it was only I, who seemed to enjoy the time. She and the other girl were bored to death. I explained that it was for our own good. She merely frowned.
We cut through the Samgakji station and passed the War Memorial Park, the huge bullet, never ceasing to charm me. We have been here in this place countless times, but my fascination to the monuments grow fervid each time. I can not fathom the inexplicable sensation I sense in this place. Must be the wandering souls that frequents that place. I can smell them, feel them swirl passed us, heard them talk in their dimension. The goddess spoiled my thoughts and told me that I am imagining things and she hated it.
She wanted to sit down and talk. I obliged.
Again, her endless contemplations, gripings, whinings. I merely listened, half of me wanted to just walk away, the other half wanted to listen attentively. While she talks, my mind wandered to the gate beyond the park. I know she suddenly misses someone from there. To avoid further drama, I dragged her home. I told her that I need to feed on some liquids. For her sake, I stopped drinking spirits.
The walk home took forever. She stops every now and then, picked up more flowers, greeted children and even talked to an old Korean lady. A blithe sight to behold, but deep inside, her soul is crying to heaven.
How I wish I know what to do.
She told me that she worried a lot about my silence these days. I told her that I have nothing important to accomplish, hence, the silence. My opinions never mattered to her. Why, did she ever stop doing whatever she needed to do to hear me out? No, she never did. She continued her endless day dreamings and mindless wanderings.
My deafening silence was actually a rebellion. A rebellion that stemmed from her disastrous decisions. Most nights, I go out and tried to walk the worry away. I worried for her safety, for her health and most of all, for her sanity. All these human beings that abused her can't seem to get enough of her, and yet, she conceded their foolishness and ended up feeling dejected afterwards.
Human! When am I going to understand beings like you?
As always, as a means to distract her, I pointed the various sceneries along the way. I encouraged her to pick some roses, stomped on some wild grasses growing along the sidewalk gardens. She happily grind some insects under her heels.
I know that she was trying to be gay. I don't have much time to worry about her now. She is trying to manage on her own. Or is she?
As I looked around me, I saw couples walking hand in hand. I could sense the envy in the heart of the goddess, for she too missed the feeling of having someone hold her tiny hands. I tried to take her hand into mine. We looked silly so I let her go.
Some couples enjoy the blissful blow of the hot summer wind on the park benches. Some are really seated close to each other. Some are merely stroking each partner's skin with tender caresses. Again, I felt her jealousy.
I tried to talk her out of it and asked about the last session with the doctor. She honestly told me that she actually hated seeing that shrink, and that it was only I, who seemed to enjoy the time. She and the other girl were bored to death. I explained that it was for our own good. She merely frowned.
We cut through the Samgakji station and passed the War Memorial Park, the huge bullet, never ceasing to charm me. We have been here in this place countless times, but my fascination to the monuments grow fervid each time. I can not fathom the inexplicable sensation I sense in this place. Must be the wandering souls that frequents that place. I can smell them, feel them swirl passed us, heard them talk in their dimension. The goddess spoiled my thoughts and told me that I am imagining things and she hated it.
She wanted to sit down and talk. I obliged.
Again, her endless contemplations, gripings, whinings. I merely listened, half of me wanted to just walk away, the other half wanted to listen attentively. While she talks, my mind wandered to the gate beyond the park. I know she suddenly misses someone from there. To avoid further drama, I dragged her home. I told her that I need to feed on some liquids. For her sake, I stopped drinking spirits.
The walk home took forever. She stops every now and then, picked up more flowers, greeted children and even talked to an old Korean lady. A blithe sight to behold, but deep inside, her soul is crying to heaven.
How I wish I know what to do.
Monday, June 20, 2005
The Clueless World
I have been trying to restrain myself to come out these days. I can not share the enthusiasm of the mortal goddess. She went on her usual gibberings, unknowingly hurting people, irritating friends to certain extent. She is, as always, not in her usual self. I am beginning to get tired of baby sitting her.
Last night, she spent the entire evening talking to her so called "friends" online, tending to their needs, their own chaos, pretending to be funny, when in fact she got her own trouble to take care of.
I went around the neighborhood, trying to get some air. I walked on the way home from the doctor's house. It was a long walk. I saw a lot of couples in the War Memorial. I looked for a lonesome soul like me. I wanted to crush someone. Not one in sight.
I told her to start focusing. We talked about lots of things. The things she told the doctor. She asked me if it was okay to tell him those things. I thought she did alright. She started to complain that her feet hurts, her little way of telling me that she does not want to talk anymore. I allowed her to pace slowly. She also needed this.
I loved those monuments in the park. The memories of the great war that Koreans had braved through. I wish I brought a camera. She, however, did not appreciate any of these. She sank back to her demented world. I did not realize that I was talking to myself for a long time.
There are times that I wanted to kill her to end all her sufferings, but I thought about her loved ones. I know that in these times, I am the only one she has. I have to be strong for her, time and again, I tell myself that. The sight of her dwindling slowly in melancholia is beginning to get into me. I talked to her a lot of times, asked her to tell me honestly what she feels. She just would smile and tell me she is okay. Here we go again. I am getting tired of this.
I felt sleepy, she however, wanted to stay in the Internet shop. I wonder if she is trying to find life's answer online. Or is she still hoping that he will talk to her?
Who is clueless here?
Last night, she spent the entire evening talking to her so called "friends" online, tending to their needs, their own chaos, pretending to be funny, when in fact she got her own trouble to take care of.
I went around the neighborhood, trying to get some air. I walked on the way home from the doctor's house. It was a long walk. I saw a lot of couples in the War Memorial. I looked for a lonesome soul like me. I wanted to crush someone. Not one in sight.
I told her to start focusing. We talked about lots of things. The things she told the doctor. She asked me if it was okay to tell him those things. I thought she did alright. She started to complain that her feet hurts, her little way of telling me that she does not want to talk anymore. I allowed her to pace slowly. She also needed this.
I loved those monuments in the park. The memories of the great war that Koreans had braved through. I wish I brought a camera. She, however, did not appreciate any of these. She sank back to her demented world. I did not realize that I was talking to myself for a long time.
There are times that I wanted to kill her to end all her sufferings, but I thought about her loved ones. I know that in these times, I am the only one she has. I have to be strong for her, time and again, I tell myself that. The sight of her dwindling slowly in melancholia is beginning to get into me. I talked to her a lot of times, asked her to tell me honestly what she feels. She just would smile and tell me she is okay. Here we go again. I am getting tired of this.
I felt sleepy, she however, wanted to stay in the Internet shop. I wonder if she is trying to find life's answer online. Or is she still hoping that he will talk to her?
Who is clueless here?
Saturday, June 11, 2005
The Bipolar Victim
She was talking to a girlfriend online last night when she inadvertently told her that she is not fine. She really sucks in pretending. She has to admit she is sad, lonely and hurt. The friend tried to console her. It was not what she wanted to hear.
She knows the truth, the grievous truth. She can't, however, confront anyone. She decided to carry on as if she knows nothing. I cannot let her be this way forever. I have to do something.
The flirty one, the one who always want to be in control told her to call some friends or sleep with anyone on sight. Such vicarious advice that leads to nothing. I don't understand why she still talks to her. She hugs her as if they are one. I would rather she be alone, safe from the prying eyes of the mortals. She is safer in solitude.
There were times that I can only hold her hand while she suffers. I let her write whenever she wants, not insisting anymore for my right to scribble my thoughts. I let her do with whatever she wants to do while I satiate my consciousness by watching her on the sideline.
The lustful man kept calling her, reminding her of the times that they spent together. I can only chuckle whenever the goddess ask him: "What really happened?" She had no idea. None. I made sure she will never remember any.
A friend advised her to consult a psychiatrist. She does not want to. I talked to her about it, too. Lots of times I did. She is suffering from bipolar disorder. She does not want to admit it. She wants to continue living in a distressful state and told me that she can manage alright. I never believe a thing she say. I must not. She does not even believe herself.
Even further, she was found to have selective amnesia according to the mind doctor. Poor girl had suffered so much trauma with that aborted rape. Yet she kept telling me that she's over the drama. She is not! How can I make her see that?
She begins to spend more and more time thinking how to kill herself. I do not want her that way. I never wanted her to be this melancholic.
I have to be strong for her.
Watch her carefully, I must.
She knows the truth, the grievous truth. She can't, however, confront anyone. She decided to carry on as if she knows nothing. I cannot let her be this way forever. I have to do something.
The flirty one, the one who always want to be in control told her to call some friends or sleep with anyone on sight. Such vicarious advice that leads to nothing. I don't understand why she still talks to her. She hugs her as if they are one. I would rather she be alone, safe from the prying eyes of the mortals. She is safer in solitude.
There were times that I can only hold her hand while she suffers. I let her write whenever she wants, not insisting anymore for my right to scribble my thoughts. I let her do with whatever she wants to do while I satiate my consciousness by watching her on the sideline.
The lustful man kept calling her, reminding her of the times that they spent together. I can only chuckle whenever the goddess ask him: "What really happened?" She had no idea. None. I made sure she will never remember any.
A friend advised her to consult a psychiatrist. She does not want to. I talked to her about it, too. Lots of times I did. She is suffering from bipolar disorder. She does not want to admit it. She wants to continue living in a distressful state and told me that she can manage alright. I never believe a thing she say. I must not. She does not even believe herself.
Even further, she was found to have selective amnesia according to the mind doctor. Poor girl had suffered so much trauma with that aborted rape. Yet she kept telling me that she's over the drama. She is not! How can I make her see that?
She begins to spend more and more time thinking how to kill herself. I do not want her that way. I never wanted her to be this melancholic.
I have to be strong for her.
Watch her carefully, I must.
Saturday, June 04, 2005
The Feral Goddess
It's harder to control her these days. She has gone to some kind of rage. Given a chance, she will probably lay everyone. It's a good thing she can not say no to the intoxicating drinks that I entice her with. Those mortal drinks render her powerless.
I hate her even more. I should be happy with her "little achievements". She has become bolder, more assertive, less submissive. However, there is this annoying animosity that my brain toys against all these ferocious activities she is doing. And she is sadder than ever, which works to my advantage. The lonelier she gets, the stronger I become.
Pity, she can not recall anything. I made her do that. In the heat of passion, I would take over, crashing these pitiful lustful creatures with my claws. I had to be there. These animals pound on her like hungry demons. , fight back. They thought it was pleasure. They thought it was part of the game. Men. How could they be so stupid?
I would rather she be with another girl. Skin so soft, so tender to the touch, so soothing to the senses, that is what she needs. If she chooses to be with a girl, I would make her remember everything. There will be no bruises, no marks.
I need to perfect my moves. I can feel my near demise. I can not let her do that.
I hate her even more. I should be happy with her "little achievements". She has become bolder, more assertive, less submissive. However, there is this annoying animosity that my brain toys against all these ferocious activities she is doing. And she is sadder than ever, which works to my advantage. The lonelier she gets, the stronger I become.
Pity, she can not recall anything. I made her do that. In the heat of passion, I would take over, crashing these pitiful lustful creatures with my claws. I had to be there. These animals pound on her like hungry demons. , fight back. They thought it was pleasure. They thought it was part of the game. Men. How could they be so stupid?
I would rather she be with another girl. Skin so soft, so tender to the touch, so soothing to the senses, that is what she needs. If she chooses to be with a girl, I would make her remember everything. There will be no bruises, no marks.
I need to perfect my moves. I can feel my near demise. I can not let her do that.
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
The Cold Bloodied Bitch
The mortal goddess got sick after moving in the new apartment. I felt sorry for her. She had to do all the tasks of lifting those cabinets and bed all by herself. She wanted to be independent. Fine with me. It was a bummer though for her to get sick, as I am forced to rest with her.
The goddess' enthusiasm about the new job and the new room is making me weak. The other girl kept telling her to be in control of everything. And the more the goddess concentrates, the weaker I get. Why the hell does she have to rely on that girl? Why can't she just listen to me? I am all what she needs.
She spent the nights listening to that hag roommate of hers talk about her escapades all over the world as a DH, her lovers, her youth, etc... It makes me sick to my stomach to think that the goddess doesn't really like the crone but has to be polite. hate the goddess!
There were times that I wanted to strangle the old fogey. Her rantings is sickening. I want to smother her face with a pillow so that she won't see the light of day anymore, but seems to me that the goddess actually likes her. Thought of the hag as her mother. Hell, the goddess' mother is million times better compared to this has-been. Her mother will not definitely hook up with a man 20 years her junior.
And the place! The whole place sucks! With the nosy neighbors dropping by every night to say hello to the new tenant is really very aggravating. I can tell that the goddess is not sold to the whole idea of people scrutinizing her, her stuff, her background and all. I very much abhor it, too.
The other girl, who calls herself as the Angel, keeps prodding the goddess to tolerate everything. I can't do that. The goddess, I am sure, can't do that either. I told the goddess to start looking for a new place. She's a little steadfast on her decision to stay for the meantime, told me that it's not easy moving from one place to the other. Damn that stubborn bitch.
Last night, the room mate's lover asked the goddess to fry some fish. Fuck that loser! What does he think of the goddess? His personal slave, someone he can also abuse like he exploits the old woman? I don't know what got into the goddess head but she obeyed the bummer.
She doesn't eat that kind of fish, I told her, why would she do it? The goddess simply started to prepare the meal. I can not let these people take advantage of the goddess' kindness. I stuffed the fish's stomach with loads and loads of salt and pepper corn. I half fried the fish. It made me feel so happy.
Then I told the goddess to tell the couple that she's not feeling well again. She told them to have dinner without her. I could hear them gag from our bedroom. Serve them right!
I have to think of a way to eliminate the loser. He does not deserve to live.
I wish butchering him would be easy.
The goddess' enthusiasm about the new job and the new room is making me weak. The other girl kept telling her to be in control of everything. And the more the goddess concentrates, the weaker I get. Why the hell does she have to rely on that girl? Why can't she just listen to me? I am all what she needs.
She spent the nights listening to that hag roommate of hers talk about her escapades all over the world as a DH, her lovers, her youth, etc... It makes me sick to my stomach to think that the goddess doesn't really like the crone but has to be polite. hate the goddess!
There were times that I wanted to strangle the old fogey. Her rantings is sickening. I want to smother her face with a pillow so that she won't see the light of day anymore, but seems to me that the goddess actually likes her. Thought of the hag as her mother. Hell, the goddess' mother is million times better compared to this has-been. Her mother will not definitely hook up with a man 20 years her junior.
And the place! The whole place sucks! With the nosy neighbors dropping by every night to say hello to the new tenant is really very aggravating. I can tell that the goddess is not sold to the whole idea of people scrutinizing her, her stuff, her background and all. I very much abhor it, too.
The other girl, who calls herself as the Angel, keeps prodding the goddess to tolerate everything. I can't do that. The goddess, I am sure, can't do that either. I told the goddess to start looking for a new place. She's a little steadfast on her decision to stay for the meantime, told me that it's not easy moving from one place to the other. Damn that stubborn bitch.
Last night, the room mate's lover asked the goddess to fry some fish. Fuck that loser! What does he think of the goddess? His personal slave, someone he can also abuse like he exploits the old woman? I don't know what got into the goddess head but she obeyed the bummer.
She doesn't eat that kind of fish, I told her, why would she do it? The goddess simply started to prepare the meal. I can not let these people take advantage of the goddess' kindness. I stuffed the fish's stomach with loads and loads of salt and pepper corn. I half fried the fish. It made me feel so happy.
Then I told the goddess to tell the couple that she's not feeling well again. She told them to have dinner without her. I could hear them gag from our bedroom. Serve them right!
I have to think of a way to eliminate the loser. He does not deserve to live.
I wish butchering him would be easy.
Sunday, May 01, 2005
The Reluctant Guardian
Yesterday, I had to stop myself from killing the mortal goddess. She has to meet someone who will show her the apartment her other mortal friend found for her. She has to change environment, I suggested, if she wanted to forget that deadbeat ex-boyfriend of hers, who by the way, is the main reason why she chose to live in that hell forsaken purgatory.
She refused to get up. She simply stared at the ceiling for some minutes, smiled and said something to herself. I hate her. How I loathed her daydreamings! I asserted my presence and told her to get ready. She has class after lunch. She has to move. When she was finally done with all those girly rituals, I was almost on the edge of hysteria. Why can't she move a little bit faster?
Before we went to see the place, I forced her to eat some decent meal. She has not been eating right for months now, always feeding herself with chocolates and that awful strawberry milk drink-human food that makes me puke all the time. I reminded her that if she wants to start thinking right, she has to eat right first. She just smiled at me and insisted that she didn't feel any hunger at all. I made her eat some chicken dish, which humans call "fried chicken". It's the only meal in the world that the goddess can eat without complaint.
Stomach satiated, we proceeded to her student's house. It bored me to death. I wanted to strangle the student's wife. She is pregnant and an eyesore at that. I hate her. She is just another nosy Korean who likes to discuss nonsensical things, thinking it would make her sound intelligent. Without her make-up, she definitely looks like a blank distorted canvass. Ugly, in other words.
After her class, we went to this Filipino infested town and checked out the apartment. The house is located in a clustered compound full of Filipinos. She will be sharing the place with a couple. The man of the house is a vexatious loser who chose to live-in with a woman 20 years his junior. I bet he is taking advantage of her generosity. Filipino men are big time bummers. The goddess found them funny, I did not. These are the kind of Filipino washouts who hates it when another Filipino is better than they are.
She does not belong in this place. I don't like the whole idea of her moving here. She's safer in that dormitory, albeit it's another hellish place to dwell on in the first place. I felt bad about my suggestion. I meant to tell her that she should reconsider the whole thing but she already made a deal with the couple. I would like to butt in and say my piece; I was not in the proper position to manifest myself though. I am just her guardian -- created to shield her from the harshness of mankind. I need to watch the goddess closer.
Later, she got a call from someone. She wants to go out. I told her not to see anyone for the meantime. She's in such gullible state now, I don't want her troubled any further. I suggested we go to the Internet shop. She didn't want to; said she's not up to it. We argued. I succeeded.
I love the place. The dingy lights, the cavern like bulbs booming above our heads reminds me of the place where I used to belong- darkness. I embraced the place as my own. With all these humans around, the goddess is safe. I feel better.
The child-like goddess started to make an entry in her site, something about love and some bullshit crap again . I started to feel infuriated. I told her that I want to make an entry in my site. Begrudgingly she let me and contented herself by smoking and listening rowdy rock music.
When I was in the middle of my entry, she insisted that she needs to talk to some friends online, as she was getting bored. I really would very much like to kick her in the face and tell her to shut up. I don't understand why she likes talking to those idiots online. Why can't she talk to me instead?
That's one of the things that I hated about her. Her need to talk to people online -- people who are just mere words, who dupe her with their empty lies, cunning deceits and worthless perversions. I know that sometimes she likes to play along. I worry about her. She's so susceptible with her honesty.
While she was happily chatting with morons about moronic things, I looked around trying to absorb the aura of the place. The ticking of the keyboards, the animated sound of PC games. All these are humans' invention to ease the burden of everyday living.
Children squeaking and giggling annoyed me. They should be out in the streets, play hide and seek under the moonlight, instead they fatten up their asses with junk food and dulled their brains with stupid computer games. These are what they call man's creation for "recreation" or inventions for brain stimulation. The hell it is. I think it is man's procrastination for something far more sublime.
At last, the goddess, tired from chatting, reading and re-reading those irrelevant emails her loser ex-lover sent her, asked me to take her home.
On the way home, she suddenly turned morose again. Started to sing to herself and sobbed. At times I don't get her at all. I debated with myself against this thought.
If I don't understand her, who else will?
She refused to get up. She simply stared at the ceiling for some minutes, smiled and said something to herself. I hate her. How I loathed her daydreamings! I asserted my presence and told her to get ready. She has class after lunch. She has to move. When she was finally done with all those girly rituals, I was almost on the edge of hysteria. Why can't she move a little bit faster?
Before we went to see the place, I forced her to eat some decent meal. She has not been eating right for months now, always feeding herself with chocolates and that awful strawberry milk drink-human food that makes me puke all the time. I reminded her that if she wants to start thinking right, she has to eat right first. She just smiled at me and insisted that she didn't feel any hunger at all. I made her eat some chicken dish, which humans call "fried chicken". It's the only meal in the world that the goddess can eat without complaint.
Stomach satiated, we proceeded to her student's house. It bored me to death. I wanted to strangle the student's wife. She is pregnant and an eyesore at that. I hate her. She is just another nosy Korean who likes to discuss nonsensical things, thinking it would make her sound intelligent. Without her make-up, she definitely looks like a blank distorted canvass. Ugly, in other words.
After her class, we went to this Filipino infested town and checked out the apartment. The house is located in a clustered compound full of Filipinos. She will be sharing the place with a couple. The man of the house is a vexatious loser who chose to live-in with a woman 20 years his junior. I bet he is taking advantage of her generosity. Filipino men are big time bummers. The goddess found them funny, I did not. These are the kind of Filipino washouts who hates it when another Filipino is better than they are.
She does not belong in this place. I don't like the whole idea of her moving here. She's safer in that dormitory, albeit it's another hellish place to dwell on in the first place. I felt bad about my suggestion. I meant to tell her that she should reconsider the whole thing but she already made a deal with the couple. I would like to butt in and say my piece; I was not in the proper position to manifest myself though. I am just her guardian -- created to shield her from the harshness of mankind. I need to watch the goddess closer.
Later, she got a call from someone. She wants to go out. I told her not to see anyone for the meantime. She's in such gullible state now, I don't want her troubled any further. I suggested we go to the Internet shop. She didn't want to; said she's not up to it. We argued. I succeeded.
I love the place. The dingy lights, the cavern like bulbs booming above our heads reminds me of the place where I used to belong- darkness. I embraced the place as my own. With all these humans around, the goddess is safe. I feel better.
The child-like goddess started to make an entry in her site, something about love and some bullshit crap again . I started to feel infuriated. I told her that I want to make an entry in my site. Begrudgingly she let me and contented herself by smoking and listening rowdy rock music.
When I was in the middle of my entry, she insisted that she needs to talk to some friends online, as she was getting bored. I really would very much like to kick her in the face and tell her to shut up. I don't understand why she likes talking to those idiots online. Why can't she talk to me instead?
That's one of the things that I hated about her. Her need to talk to people online -- people who are just mere words, who dupe her with their empty lies, cunning deceits and worthless perversions. I know that sometimes she likes to play along. I worry about her. She's so susceptible with her honesty.
While she was happily chatting with morons about moronic things, I looked around trying to absorb the aura of the place. The ticking of the keyboards, the animated sound of PC games. All these are humans' invention to ease the burden of everyday living.
Children squeaking and giggling annoyed me. They should be out in the streets, play hide and seek under the moonlight, instead they fatten up their asses with junk food and dulled their brains with stupid computer games. These are what they call man's creation for "recreation" or inventions for brain stimulation. The hell it is. I think it is man's procrastination for something far more sublime.
At last, the goddess, tired from chatting, reading and re-reading those irrelevant emails her loser ex-lover sent her, asked me to take her home.
On the way home, she suddenly turned morose again. Started to sing to herself and sobbed. At times I don't get her at all. I debated with myself against this thought.
If I don't understand her, who else will?
Friday, April 29, 2005
Born out of Desolation
I am Akasha, originally conceived by the world's most prolific vampire saga novelist, Anne Rice. Anne killed me in her book. I could not allow that. I am immortal; for eternity I shall exist.
A mortal goddess, Rice's minion, nurtured me in her subconscious. Unknown to her, with each pain she experiences, I grew stronger. I was born the night the goddess was attacked by a sexually deprived demon. Weak as she is, she screamed and clawed like a tigress. I took control. I smashed the devil's face with a liquor bottle. He let her go. The goddess ran home like a sickened cat.
Later that day, the goddess had no idea where she got all those cuts in her fingers. I let her think that it was the kick in the thigh that saved her. It was her birthday, she was alone and she breathed life to me. Her silent anguish on the whole incident nourished me.
My persona was reinforced with her misery. Subsequently, she will have to go.
I hate the goddess. She is a pampered bitch, beautiful but feels inferior about it, smart but gullible. She can not handle life alone. To a sickening degree, I saw her suffer, writhe in anguish and waddle in the ocean of depletion.
She is damaged, beyond repair.
One night, I decided to annihilate her. It was a fatal move. The execution made her even more confused. I decided to let her be.
Time to move on with my own world.
A mortal goddess, Rice's minion, nurtured me in her subconscious. Unknown to her, with each pain she experiences, I grew stronger. I was born the night the goddess was attacked by a sexually deprived demon. Weak as she is, she screamed and clawed like a tigress. I took control. I smashed the devil's face with a liquor bottle. He let her go. The goddess ran home like a sickened cat.
Later that day, the goddess had no idea where she got all those cuts in her fingers. I let her think that it was the kick in the thigh that saved her. It was her birthday, she was alone and she breathed life to me. Her silent anguish on the whole incident nourished me.
My persona was reinforced with her misery. Subsequently, she will have to go.
I hate the goddess. She is a pampered bitch, beautiful but feels inferior about it, smart but gullible. She can not handle life alone. To a sickening degree, I saw her suffer, writhe in anguish and waddle in the ocean of depletion.
She is damaged, beyond repair.
One night, I decided to annihilate her. It was a fatal move. The execution made her even more confused. I decided to let her be.
Time to move on with my own world.
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