When There's So Much Light, Why Do I Feel So Dark?

Good Morning Self.

Just a clockwork pocket watch, slowly winding down until you stop ticking entirely and then there's nothing left for you but to just be a decorative piece. What will happen when your mind retires, decides it is worth nothing and that it is no longer going to cooperate with you? You will mentally be buried but your body will still work, it will still sleep and wake and lift it's legs and open it's mouth but you will be an empty husk, that's all you'll be is an empty husk filled with napalm as your insides become gellatinous and then mix with the alcohol to ferment in to a flammable gel. Because once your mind goes, so does your inhibitions. You will drink, when your mind goes.

Why are you so adament against drugs and alcohol? Why are you so passionately against them? Mayhaps it has something to do with the fact that you were raised knowing that your birth mother was an alcoholic, that you birth father and birth mother met in a bar, that you being born almost destroyed your birth mother's life, that she doesn't know who your birth father is, that dad and mom used to drink and do drugs, that Brant used to do drugs, that Josh used to do drugs and probably still does, he still drinks, that you lost Justin to stupid drugs... stupid drugs took Justin from you, alcohol is slowly taking your step sister and is pickling her liver and is destroying her life, everyone, everyone you know has done or tried drugs. But not you. Why are you so adamant? Beccause dear self, it only takes once. One time of misjudging yourself, of misjudging the potency, once time of pissing off your dealer, one time to become addicted, one time. It only takes once.

Psychopathy mixing with apathy and entrophy and lycanthropy is naught but another form of transformation that we all go through at night each time the moon is full with fur and teeth and bone and blood and claws and gellatinous eyes all mixing into something new but is the moon ever not full for those of us who live for the night and for the shadows the moon is always full always full and it will never empty out into the sea like a tributary just another psychopath roaming the streets without emotions and without feeling and without love hope fear passion just another psychopath clawing their way to the top of food chain to sit on top of the heap to eat vegetables wrong they will eat flesh of the most unpure kind the flesh of other humans for the thrill of the kill it's the thrill of the kill that makes us hunt that makes us run without tire until they are dead and are gone and are naught but dust and we will never die because we have no fear and you are too busy trying to understand us to kill us when you should killl us you should hang us up and kill us try to understand us when we are dead try to comprehend our corpses try to autopsy the dust we turn to but do not let us live because we will kill and kill again if given the chance just another psychopath staring at your children with our cold and dead eyes dreaming of our hands around their necks and your screams in our ears and we feel nothing and we taste nothing and I can barely see anything past the blood on my hands and the lust in my nostrails and just another psychopath...

Just another psychopath.

~Alisa

PS: And we are laying in your basement trying desperately to not be in love and I am secretly trying desperately to not cry into the pillow that carries your scent because I know, I know that I love you and that you love me but that love right now is not enough... Why can't it be enough?