Every delicious moment of everything that life offers I enjoy. The sound of thunder ande laughter The smell of lavender and cigarettes Blood red sun against a violet sky Feel soft cool blankets against naked skin The taste of perfect fresh rasberries I feel pleasure from everything. From the exhaustion to the pain to the happiness that comes from being alive. Each pure moment offers something to enjoy, to relish. Craving. Release. The minor aches and hurts you ignore are embraced and accepted, the bad gets better, the good gets great. In the lonely hours of the night I cry, and hate myself so much I cant stand it. I beg god to take me away, I beg god to leave me. I remember my mistakes, I try to name my virtues, I wipe my face and tell myself that I am fine, that I will be better, that there is something good waiting for me. I hold myself and rock, and think of what things I could say to make myself believe that I am not suffering, that I am not heartbroken, that I am not confused or weak. I recall the hedonist, the supposed happiness that that entails. Acting on these whims. More mistakes, more stupidity, more reasons to hate myself and hurt myself and scream at myself for being so idiotic. Scared. I hope you wallow in a sess pool of doubt and pain. Thats what I hope. Long for really. I want you to suffer, and cry. You are a cold ignorant unfeeling fuck who deserves it. I took a nap yesterday, and I had dream. I saw satan in the clouds. At first it was just as if I was making up pictures in the sky. He came as a dragon, great and red, whipping his barbed tail around me. Their were other people with me, who did not see him at first, but when they did see him descend from the clouds they started to scream. Hail started to fall. I led the people inside (inside what sort of building I am not sure) and they clung to eachothers wet shivering bodies and wept and begged for mercy. And the devil came then as a woman, her hair fiery and wild. She laughed at us, and walked among us, and whispered evil things in our minds. The people started to go mad, one man blew his own head off as I screamed and watched. I begged them all to stop, I begged them to not listen. The woman laughed. They killed each other and themselves, and I watched, and felt like stone, and could not lift up a hand or raise my voice in protest. Cutting throats and stabbing through skin. There was blood everywhere. Everyone was dead and I stood staring at the bodies and the flies that began to collect around them. I looked up at the devil, and he grew huge and dark, like a shadow, and stood powerful before me. He held my hand and he smiled. And then I woke up. Fucked up dream, no? I cry one minute, and the next an overpowering feeling of what I am not sure, and I feel satisfied, and I feel unchallengable, and I feel as if I am in control of everything. Horrible eternal circle. My life is never as bad as it seems.