Do not misunderstand me. I am no one’s advocate except my own. I care not for the masses foolish enough to be manhandled by the antisocial and psychopathic demons around them. Nor do I care for those in which I see my own reflection. What I do is for myself. My ego may not be fragile enough nor hungry enough to require me to show my talents for all too see, but my will demands that I be in control. To be in control demands that I control the discourse to the best of my ability. To be in control dictates that I become both entertainer and educator. And, this I do gladly even if I feel little reward in return. Do you want to know the depths of darkness? Do you wish to become acquainted with the self-destruction and fury of the psychopath? Longtime readers would know that you’ve come to the right place. Moving forward, I will revisit topics that dominated the first two years of this blog though with insights that are more current. I am not cured and I never will be. What I am, however, is more aware than ever before.
I’ve tried on kindness as of late. I searched for color that I thought these eyes could see. I thought that reciprocity would elevate me and give me the connectedness that I’ve long desired. I was wrong, so I return to my roots. I return to the darkness that I’ve always found comforting. I walk alone, as I always have, and I return to serve only myself. This does not mean that I will now champion animosity, but it means that the roots of compassion have been severed from the tree of kindness, leaving both root and monolith to decay.
My impulsivity has led me astray. Unable to comprehend nor touch the interconnectedness that will always elude me, I reached out in a futile effort to grasp one last time those “positive” energies that long eluded me. Now, in desolation, I realize that I never should have left this cold, comforting darkness. It is not connectedness that will lead me to salvation, but rather my cold will that will lead me from desolation. The coming arc will shed light on this, do not worry.
Dreams are still in the realm of the ethereal. Goals do not exist for this woman, only self-preservation, and this was reduced to ash as I reached for those beyond me. Rather than focusing my gaze in the mirror and onto these hands that have much work to do, I focused outward, neglecting and losing myself in the process. Every time I plan to include the non-self in my future, I lose track of my own destiny. No, not fate, but the pure realization of potential.
Monochrome is the best that these eyes will ever see. Pure precision in the absence of color is better than nearsightedness, no matter how vivid. We will return to the darker corners of the human condition. We will explore, in gory detail, the arrival of pure apathy. And, we will see that there is no redemption for the damned. I am unconcerned with both love and hate. I do not pine for those I have abandoned. What motivates me now is self-serving. Even then, this is not to say that my journey cannot both invigorate my brethren and serve as a warning to those foolish enough to become shadow-seekers. Let the discourse be mine and pay heed to the voice of broken glass.