Over and over and over and over!

They say insanity is doing the same thing all over again but expecting different results. Which, looking back on stuff, is definitely you. Yet your insanity, as it may be seen by other eyes, in truth your real non-human personality is a bit more complex. You roughly do everything the same, but getting a different result isn't what drives you, just the opposite.

You go about things differently each time, as context changes, but, in the end, you're looking the get the same result: feeding your hunger. Hunger for something yet to be defined. It's not souls you eat, nor blood, nor their love, nor their pain. Ok, maybe the pain does it's tricks. Witnessing someone rip apart their own soul also does the trick. Obviously that will stop being as savory with time.

So whatever drives is not insanity, but addiction, basic addiction. As others feed on meat to stay strong you feed on souls, on pain, on shards of broken will. You look for the same result each time, and feeding isn't actually your goal. Stopping to eat is your goal. In lack of someone adequately fulfilling you end up on your knees battling for scraps of souls long gone, just giving them a final push over the edge. The edge of darkness, of human monsters not even able to be high on their own torment. 'Cause, in the end, that's your only insanity.

Again!

Keep burning!

There's only one person in the world with real power over you. The one from so long ago. Your first creation. The one who loves you and hates your guts all in the same time. The one who can't live without you but also can't live with you, because she knows, well, how that turns out.

When it comes to her it's always been a big blur. Always something between knowing nobody else will ever love you like her and wanting nothing else than to feel the same. It seems possible each time yet each time something goes wrong. Either it's not meant to be either it's really not meant to be.

Both ways you always end up lost, scared like shit of your own gruesome self and for, how gutless of you, salvation. And if the woman that loves you the most doesn't do it for you who the hell will? Hell? In that case, keep burning.

Life is elsewhere!

The toughest thing about being a monster like yourself is that wrecking feeling of out-of-place. May it come from your birth or your inability to really be human, no place, no crowd ever feels totally safe, well, unless you've ingested impressive amounts of "changing" substances.

Your life always feels like being somewhere else, not that your current location isn't enough of a hunting ground, or that it can't provide common day luxury and gratification. But there's always this itch, thic itch that tells you to leave, to change to hunt somewhere else, and that maybe, just maybe, that somewhere else will bring you the twisted happiness you search for.

As big as you are on change when it comes to humans, that small you are when it comes to actually bringing yourself to the point where you'll have the guts to pick up and leave. All those mechanisms you built, all those connections you made, that is what keeps you running, and without all that you will wither and die.

No! You won't. You already have enough experience to survive anywhere. And just think about all those new souls who will never know what hit them. Building everything from the start will also be fun, now that you do have a knowledge of a wide range of fuck-ups you should not repeat. And more importantly, now you know more about who you are, building a new identity shouldn't even be that hard.

Move!