24.2.08 | dies Saturni
What did i do to get to here what do to escape from here how is anything possible do you remember as a child your days would drift on forever games lasting weeks so carefree so vibrant all colours and sounds and thrilling you were so unafraid back then the people seemed kind and the light seemed kind and the dark held shadows that you did not understand and you gazed deep into all things with a curious and enlivened mind.
That was part of the problem, really. Curiosity not only killed the cat, but danced upon the ruined corpse until all that remained was dried blood and a fine dust, easily washed away by the next rains.
Time wears me down, both body and soul. There are things i have done, both terrible and kind. Many things which i regret and deeds gone awry, even with the best of intentions. I don't know if i am a good person any more. I don't know if i can redress the balance in the time i have left or if there is even a God to pray to for help and inspiration. The Universe feels cold and empty. I don't understand humans.
I suddenly don't like that i allowed friends and family to see a blog like this. I am thinking of restricting access to only those people i invite to it. That, or destroying it or hiding it away or simply walking away from it all.
5 days and no-one would miss it. Not really. I'd like to do it in real life, too. Just walk away from it all, and forget the person i am, starting afresh in another town or another country with a fake passport or id... a complete nobody living out the remains of his life in seclusion and darkness. It feels like all i deserve.
19.2.08 | Aspects of Desire
Desire is always cruel, it is said.
I was talking about the nature of Desire to a couple of friends the other evening. Remembering circumstances when you are wounded almost unto death, or so it feels...
You sit in your favourite bar/cafe/restaurant. If you are lucky, you are with considerate friends who are trying to console you, when your ex-girlfriend walks in. With her new man. You don't see her at first, but her laughter spills across the room, and your ears strain "was that...?"
Then you see her, and she's smiling and talking animatedly to her new man, wearing the same dress that night you first met... he touches her, little caresses on her arms... things like that. She sees you and your friends, acknowledges them when they walk by her, but doesn't register your presence at all. You quickly realize, bitterly, that this isn't about revenge... she simply doesn't care. She filled the hole you left in her life and now you're irrelevant to her. You're not even flirt-worthy material, unlike your best friends. You imagine that being pierced by many spears and arrows in 300 would hurt your chest less.
Your beautiful husband/boyfriend is sleeping with another woman. He openly acknowledges this to you, and even goes so far as to say how important the other woman is to his continued happiness. He's charming and witty still and even brings you flowers like they are going out of fashion.
But at night, when you have finished lovemaking, you weep silently into the pillow. He's all you have, and you are destroyed and made afresh by him every day. One day, you finally find the courage to leave him, and suddenly it is he who is bereft and distraught, begging you to come back to him. It is far too late for that, however. You feel nothing.
He lives his life, endlessly pursuing women, eagerly seeking the next "conquest" or so his reputation would have you believe. It's more complicated than that, however. He is desperately looking for what he believes is love. Yet when his quarry finally succumbs to his charms and lays naked in the bed beside him, he feels... cheated. Disappointed. All the years of his life, he asks himself "Is this all there is?"
17.2.08 | Because All Hope Is Lost
*smiles enthusuastically and energetically*
And because i wanted to post this evilly depressing and doom-laden nihilistic song. And fuck you, if you don't like it. Nyaaah!
*bares teeth and snarls*
oh and this... it's a day of the sorrows and dooms, today. Breathe your last, Mo-fo!
But mainly, this... (a scene from Betty Blue)
if you've never seen the erotic and unbearably sad and beautiful film, Betty Blue, then you should be ashamed of yourself. Even if you're just dropping out of the womb, you have no excuse! No excuse! What was your mother thinking, not making sure you're all cultured and ready for love, sex and loss? Damn that woman!- Why, i'd have bloody well rammed the telly up in there with you, if i'd known!
(I was gonna call your mother a cunt for being so irresponsible with you, but then i thought better of it, after all, why alienate my readership over a silly old film, eh? Naw, i'll definitely find a better reason for sure later on, after i've had a really good think about it and allowed my anger and blood pressure to rise!)
11.2.08 | Waking Dreams And Demonic Visitations (in which The Saturnyne meets with a remarkably unwelcome visitor and observes the best ways to deal with such
I lie awake in my bed. Restless thoughts and sorrows furrowing my brow. So tired, i just want to sleep, please god, let me sleep well tonight, just this once? Please? I'll re-consider becoming a Christian again, if you let me sleep.... become a monk, take a vow of chastity, only look at women my own age or not at all, stop coveting all the best chocs for myself, try not to fantasize about sodomy and fist-fucking too much...
(HAh, i can just see some peoples eyes as they read that last bit... please guys, this is just a blog, and some poetic license is allowed, you know... it's not all true, except for when it is... *evil grinnage*
Incidentally, why oh why does good anal sex seem to require so much goddam preparation? HMM? first there's the enema's, then the lubing... really, it just takes ALL the fun out of it... then there's the possibility that your partner might REALLY resent you for not being able to walk properly for days...
So where was i? Oh yes...)
Slowly i become aware that the door leading to my attic has opened and a presence has entered my room.
My thoughts focus immediately into stark terror. This is no ghost. No human, no faerie or mischevious sprite or boggart such as you might find with too frequent regularity in these parts (after all grim Pendle Hill broods nearby, and everyone knows the stories about the witches and covens and dire mischiefs associated with that place). Such things are easily dealt with. No, what has just entered my bedroom is puissant.
I lie motionless in bed as i hear it moving towards me. I am quite terror-stricken and paralyzed with fright. I do what any sane person does in these situations. I pretend to be asleep and hope it goes away.
No good. It has seen me. It knows i'm there. It knows i'm not really asleep. Eyes tight shut, i hear it's footfalls draw nearer to the bed. Then horror- i feel a weight upon the bed next to my body and it's brimstone stench hits my nostrils as it leans over towards my face.
I open my eyes. There is no choice in this. Face horror with eyes closed or open... closed leaves your imagination fertile with horror upon horror. Open at least gives you the power to confront yor assailant. This is my salvation.
But Gods!- What the hell IS this demon? I am staring into the face of an abomination without a face! Black of skin, pitted and scarred like bassalt, and almost totally featureless, saving the barest shapings of a mouth and nose. It's like some ancient sculpture, worn with age and weathering.
It practically leers at me, even without features. but now i see it, and now the realization comes to me that i am dreaming of waking, and i am suddenly master of the situation... just...
I reach out a hand and caress it's face, almost like a lover. The skin is hard as i expected, and very warm, which i hadn't expected.
"Bugger off, you minor fucking demon!"
Realization that what makes this "thing" powerful is fear itself and that it's been playing me for a fool, burns me into a furious wrath. I push it's face backwards out of my dream and through sheer will power alone force myself into waking at the same time.
I awake, cold and staring up towards my bedroom ceiling, and for a moment there, i half fancy i see a reddish outline of something dangerous fading from where it came from.
"Aye- Piss off!"
I focus my cold blue and white hatred and fury on the outline until it is no more. real or imagined.
Bloody stealing into my dreams like that. Bastard.
I go back to sleep. Don't you just hate dreaming that you're awake and dreaming?
7.2.08 | Words, Sounds & Pictures
1.2.08 | Winter Storms
Restless mind racing, eyes like black charcoals, i twitch, toss and turn in my bed, unknowingly in tune to the weather as a pulse burns through my core, leaving me drenched in anxious sweat and simultaneously exhausted.
Why can't i sleep?
And the room shatters from inky black to vibrant blue and purple and back to an even deeper hue of black in the blink of an eye.
Of course! This is the reason why i cannot sleep. I throw back the sheets and stand naked at the window gazing out into the deep night.
And the thunder drums forth it's deep chiming beat, leaving me shivering with a deep joy in the cold winter airs.
Quickly i reach for my clothes, my keys and my longest trench-coat, then head for the door with a ferocity that would just kill you if you looked into my eyes- Twice as quickly if you got in my way.
And i burst through the door like a gunshot from a starting pistol, like water tearing down a dam, grinning defiance wildly into the hailstones and vicious wind that tears at my face with chilling sharp fingers.
The storm resonates within me, the freezing rain and hail reach through my clothing and i am drenched and shivering violently in seconds. I do not notice. I do not care. I am exultant. Today a thunder god laughs and i throw my head back and laugh also.