Bad Dream/writing
From Unofficial Handbook of the Virtue Universe
Contents |
Excerpt from February 20, 2010
When one spends his life living in a situation of violence, violence becomes second nature. You learn to kill without fear of repercussion, remorse, or second though, and you comprehend that this is all necessary to survive. You shun the right-hand path, as it leads to little but pain with no gain. I say drink and bathe in the waters of this cesspool.
Every scrap of your being must go towards survival and overcoming your situation. Anything under your full effort will only lead to your destruction.
I am convinced that humanity, as typically defined, does not exist. Man is but another beast tearing itself to shreds in hopes of gain or personal pleasure at its basest level. Society is hedonism. So what to do? Show man the error of its ways via example. Take their ideas and goals, and unleash them back. If you're struck, strike back at everyone. The idea that humanity is sick is not a new one.
My philosophy is simply the philosophy of Anton LaVey with a nihilistic twist and the realization that man requires an example of its hate, manifest.
Never trust or love a woman you fuck within a week of knowing.
Want to persuade a man? Throw sex his way. Want to persuade a woman? Carry a big stick and swing liberally.
The greatest coward and deceiver known to man was called Emmanuel.
Contradiction is guaranteed in any man, for no one is certain exactly who they are and what they believe.
Give a man fire, he will be warm for a night. Do not teach him how to handle it safely, and he'll burn to death in his own stupidity.
A rose of any color smells equally like shit. That's pessimism.
Every man has a shadow, but not every man acknowledges its existence.
Philosophy, to Paragonians, is arrogance.
True competence is a measure of one's skill, ideals, and how well they adhere to those ideals when no one is watching.
Theism is a synonym for ignorance.
The consistently dishonest are more trustworthy than the inconsistently dishonest, and the consistently honest ought to be shot dead.
Violence is but a byproduct of existence.
It's better to die staring your enemy in the eyes than looking to the heavens.
Excerpt from February 25, 2010
So it usually starts with NyQuil to sleep. That doesn't work fast enough so I switch to a Lunesta. One becomes three and soon three becomes eight, then combine that with the anxiety pills, anti-psychotics, and mood stabilizers. Sometimes it gets me sick, and I puke, so to soothe the pain, I take a Vicodin and a Soma to try to get to sleep. So now I've popped 19 pills in one night. I wake up feeling sick and fatigued, so I pop another Vicodin and go about my day. Because I'm so tired I need to sleep during the day, so I pop three more Somas before each nap, giving me 10 total pills, then I take my two anxieties, one anti-psychotic, and two mood stabilizers, giving me 15 total, and it isn't even dinner. When the Vicodin wears off too soon, I pop two more and wash it down with a beer. So now I'm at 17 plus alcohol, and I pop three more Somas to help me take another nap. Now the night begins, and I haven't eaten. I'm still exhausted so I pop two Aderol to keep me up. At night I'll probably do a line at some point, drink more, then pop 5 Lunestas to get me to sleep, meaning I've popped that same number of pills as I am old, done a line, and gotten drunk. The next morning I'm hung over so I pop two Vicodins to start the day and two Aderols to wake up, then two more when two isn't enough. Of course, we're also not counting in the THC and nicotine intake throughout the day.
Excerpt from March 15, 2010
He lived a life full of strife, trauma, abuse
So he sits alone confused, his body battered and bruised
Tries to comprehend what left him so reduced
Yet despite the endless struggle he knows that he's bound to lose
He lashed back cause he knows he's deserving better
Reminiscing of the time he and his mind were together
But his weathers gotten cloudy and there's a slight chance of pain
And whether or not he deserves it, he knows it'll never change
He felt chained and was struggling up a hill
Til he finally broke his prison, resulting in his first kill
And the chills he received as he held in his hands her life
His wife who just fed him spite until he made her deep throat his knife
It's a classic situation, a man without any options
Unable to cope with problems, the feelings making him nauseous
The sickness got him, don't bother calling a doctor
Cause inhuman situations result in inhuman monsters.
She struggles on trying to piece her situation
With a conscience full of anger and a mind made for premeditatin'
Starting from square one to locate her big mistake
But as long as she remembers she's always harbored this hate
There's a string of abusive boyfriends, abortions, and pregnancies
All she wanted was acceptance, all she got was a disease
She was unable to please, so he gave her a contusion
Once again you try to win, but you find that you're always losin'
Losing grip on reality, she's stuck in a maze
And her unjustified dilemma only augments all her rage
She's been raped, drugged, and hit too many times for her to count
Until the mouth of madness caught her and refused to let her out
So now she's drowning but she's planning of a way to catch her breath
But it seems the only option is either hers or his death
She's long past any salvation, she needs to stay above water
Because inhuman situations result in inhuman monsters
Excerpt from April 12, 2010
Tell me, have you ever asked "why"? Have you ever tilted your head back, looked to the sky and screamed that you "didn't deserve this"? Have you ever sat for hours going over the meticulous details of life, wondering when you "went wrong"? Have you ever come to the conclusion that maybe it wasn't your fault? I've come bearing a message and an affirmation: you are correct. It was not. In fact, you are simply another pawn in the eternal chess game of the omnipotent and the omniscient. A puppet of the true evil genius. Of God.
I have often been asked why I commit the acts I commit. What drives me to commit atrocity and hysteria. Tragedy for tragedy's sake? Discord for the sake of discord? Nay. I commit every perceived malevolent act with a benevolent goal, for all this world knows is malevolence. Man is a malignant, malevolent cancer, growing abundantly and rooting itself deeply into the flesh of the world. It corrupts, kills, and will eventually lead to Armageddon if something isn't done. Our purpose is retaliation for these sins. To provide a treatment to this disease. To bring the world to a reverted stated of unblemished Purity.
Yes, on [K]night's final hours, I swear to you we fight in the name of Purity.
Once there was an ever-present peace. A calm, if you will, before the torrential onslaught of pandemonium brought about by the immortal and immoral harbinger of discord, the tyrant Jehovah, and his tools cast in his image, man. Since his forthcoming and the rise of man's superiority, the universe has only gravitated closer to an irreversible state of eternal chaos and war. Your only purpose is to consume and destroy, masqueraded as progress. There is no progress, only regress towards a state of hedonistic and materialistic barbarism. Now Purity is near extinct, and those who fight to preserve it are shunned as "monsters."
Since a time before man's departure from the caves, ancient forces have waged war in the name of sacred Purity. Jehovah has kept you blind from the truth with the temptations of accession and promises of an eternity in paradise, and thus you have been used as his defense between us and him. Yet know this: if you strike us down, even Jehovah's vile prison of Hell will not deter us from our objectives, and we will rise to take up arms again one day to continue our struggle. Because in truth, we are the defense between him and Purity.
For the fat of the universe, we must not fail. You chose to shun us for our sacred duty. You seek to reverse our work. You've chosen to side with our and your own destruction. But all hope is not lost, reviled opponent, for we will relinquish you of your duty by gifting you with sleep. A deep, beautiful sleep.
You are terminally ill, my brother man, but I have a cure for your affliction called death. We are creating a new world of Purity where there is no room for you, but unlike your God who would selfishly keep you awake, we grant you peace. That is our benevolent offering, to those who stand against us.
In the name of love, allow us to end your suffering.
Rejoice, for that time is upon you. We bring about the end of days.
