- Jan 31, 2011
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the days are good, the nights are dark, very dark, he is losing, he knows it, I have never been rid of him, my earliest memory has him present, a baby wolf, in a nappy, playing with matches, pouring water into televisions, he is trying to convince me I cannot survive without him, that I know no different, to that end, he is right, life is empty, meaningless to some extent, but that is habit for you, he is there, as I was, in the background, in the wind, he does not actually believe I intend to kill him, he guffaws at the prospect, he thinks this is just a phase that will pass, just like all the other times, he will wait a lifetime, he will ensure the end is met on his terms, as for me, I am just tired, emotions I am not used to, plague me, sleep eludes me, but all my hate, all my anger, all my frustration is pointed at my dear beloved wife, it is for her I am carrying out this pointless task, for her and my parents, but the finger points at her, she has an inkling, but I hide it well, if it were not for them, I could happily descend into madness, (too late..), happily climb the skies like a firework, exploding at the peak, it is only in such fashion I believe I will find my nirvana, my sachkhand, my mukti, or so I have been led to believe.
Interview with a vampire,
Interview with a vampire,