Waking Up:

My usual week of not walking around completely emotionally neutered is here and yet it's taking longer than usual for me to wake up.

Some females go through a physical transformation once a month, but that is not something I deal with. Instead I spend a week out of each Moon giving into everything I strive so hard to repress the rest of the time.

The twisted shit is coiling around inside of my head. The type of shit I couldn't even begin to put into words because they go beyond a cry for attention or help into straight-up psyche-ward territory.

Whispers and thoughts and the promise of vile deeds. They fill my very being like a lover's caress.  

Like the fluttering of a month's wings.

Delusional is acceptable within the Occult, but perversity is something to disprove of and wag a finger at.

It's not easy silencing myself. Especially when the human species gives me so many delightful tragedies to get giddy over.

There's a reason my Lady choose me. There is a part of me that embraces the worst the Darkness has to offer and I relish in it.

So yes, the sickness is wide awake, but that high I usually feel when it starts going really good is missing.

I'm not the way I am just because I want to offend those around me. I don't destroy people's lives just for the Hell of it. 

Not for attention, as if I wanted something from you, I would take it. I don't need to work for it. 

Your very Dreaming lies naked and vulnerable to me, wide open for ravishment if I so desire.  

And there are so many of you whom I have already violated quite thoroughly.

Not for you do I do this, but the way it makes me feel, when I'm neck-deep in Chaos and viscera. When my fingers are manipulating your strings. When I make you dance for my pleasure. 

That feeling inside......a thousand times better than any high, any orgasm, any feeling that can be imagined.

It is power. The type of power that makes me disregard my very mortal fears of hubris. It is the power of a God.

And why not?

Not all Gods rule over Creation.