Music: switching from VNV Nation to Diary of Dreams, "Nigredo".
If I am better tonight? I will be damned if I know. Not really. More steady, yes. Then again, Titanic was very steady too, until it ended up in the depths between the fishies. I will take all my heroes down with me; yet another similarity.
In short: I have not written anything save for one erotica piece, and it took me three months to pick up from where I had left and finish it. I am incapable of making any other progress with my story or anything of importance. There is poetry, of course. Yucky one, reserved for my self-torture. And in the case of the erotica piece I think that hormones, and not inspiration, are to blame. This inactivity is driving me up the wall. I do know what is going to happen in the next chapters of my story. I just can't bring myself to write it. I lack the motivation to do it.
Sanity-wise, I am not doing good or bad. I just am my usual self. Tired. Burned out. Hyperactive the one moment, catatonic the next. Plagued by my usual visions of my heroes, so real in mannerism and appearance that I am sure, if I reach out my hand I will touch warm skin and the promise of deliverance. But there is nothing to touch. There is just me and my room around me in its usual neatly bombed state. The bomb contained CDs, books, clothes and cats. My brain, on the other hand, contains little boys. Caged, chained, tied up, gagged and wearing nothing but ribbons for decoration, and maybe stockings, garters, high heels and naughty smirks if I feel like being creative. Other than that, it is empty. I can offer the space to be rented on request. I am not sure if anybody would want to live there but all are welcome to try. Just keep away from the cages, don't feed them. I like them skinny, their nipples a tiny fleshy addition to a flat, smooth chest. And never open the cage door, for they will bonk you silly in milliseconds. Seriously. Ravenous little sex beasts that they are, they will have it their way with you, and I will not be held responsible for that. You have been forewarned.
Waiting drives me nuts. Then again, I can't possibly get nuttier than this, for gods' sake, can I? Ritualistic murder is the next stage and I just don't have the appropriate daggers for that.
3 comments:
You don't need knives to commit a good murder, just your teeth and nails.
I think the boys in your head would get along well with the boys in mine. One of my custom-made bumper stickers reads, "I don't worry about the voices in my head. They're usually too busy fucking each other to tell me to kill people." (I love anime conventions. People will make you the weirdest shit.)
I had something more of a sacrifice as a notion in my head. Strangely enough, MY Dorian would have said the same since he is the Malkavian Primogen in London, ex-Sabbat and does have Protean 2, so yeah. Teeth and nails. Nine Inch Nails and Marilyn Manson. Hihihi.
Anime conventions? In Greece? Gimme a break, dearest. An oyster convention is more likely. But your bumper sticker rocks. I'll give you that, and muffled greetings from my boys. Kissy.
Heheh. You can reach me via Yahoo! Messenger, under the name "lestat_at_heart", should you care to introduce the pets.
Nothing like boi-parties.
MY Dorian is long since dead, but think... pirate siren. ^_^
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