Wednesday, January 16, 2013

Meaningless Ramblings?

Several years ago, I began a journal - the journal of the Devil's Child. Devil's Child was one of my online names, and one whom had a very particular personality. While she has continued to exist, her voice was replaced, and I began writing my Meaningless Ramblings of a Madwoman. These ramblings consisted of several different voices, but the madwoman was the most common. Then these ramblings were replaced with the Darkside of the Rose babblings - which are rather mundane in my opinion when compared to the Devil's Child and the Madwoman.

Anyway, when you place the best of these writings together, they make up what I consider to be a rather interesting philosophy/psychology. For this reason, I have decided to put together the best of these writings into a book. I am not foolish enough to believe it will actually sell - and I may not even actually sell it. But, I am going to work on putting it together, editing it, giving it some rhyme or reason.

This said... I shall now post just a taste of the writings of the Devil's Child... and a nibble of the writings of the Madwoman...

Excerpt from "Hunger" (Devil's Child writing): 

This need grows stronger every day. I feel if I must live with it another moment I will wither away, back to the fire from which I was born. To understand why I live in this endless torment you must be me. You must walk behind the dark one. You must surrender your soul to the beast. I do not typically regret the decisions I have made, except for now. I am hungry. I need him. Lust is too mild of a word to describe the feeling coursing through my body; through my blackened soul. When I first tasted him, I became one with him. I need him more than I need food or water. I need him in every way and every form. I need to taste him; I need to feel his blood pulsating around me, and in me. I have always been in control of my victims. I have always pulled away before the need for only one came to be. But I have erred and now I die in this hell I have allowed myself to be drawn into.

I never imagined hell could be so cold. Or so lonely. Although I am still toying with my new prey, it is a game void of joy. My mind is still fixated on someone from the past--someone who cannot be of the human race. Men are so simple minded, so easy to play, so effortless a prey. But not him. Not the ‘man’ whom my body and soul craves. Not the ‘man’ whom, dare I say, my heart needs. I fear he has played me. He has beaten me at my own game. My tears stain my cheeks with the blood I miss.

The Mind (Madwoman writing):

Walking through the halls of my mind...such a tempting place this is, the rooms all decorated in different styles and colors, ghosts haunting every corner, every shadow, candle light burning brighter in certain areas while others remain hidden in darkness. Care to walk with me? To get a grand tour of this castle in my head? Then close yours eyes and walk with me. But beware. Once you are inside, you may never leave, unless I choose to throw you out. This is my home, and the home of the voices that keep me from being lonely - from going insane.

Such a complex place of twists and turns and bends, each leading to somewhere and yet nowhere at the same time - each thought edged in darkness even if in the light. If you listen you can hear the voices, hear them speaking to me. Some give words of encouragement, some whisper of lust and fantasy, some whisper of the dark place that is off limits to all but me. But tonight, just this once, let me take you to that dark place. Let me show you where I live and love - the place my passion, both of hatred and desire, builds and grows and dies and is reborn. This place, with cold stone walls and chains upon the walls, this is my room, my life, my dreams and fears and everything combined.

Close your eyes and reach out your hands, can you feel it, the cold steel locking around your wrists, raising your arms above your head? Can you feel the cold stone pressing against you? Hear the whispers in your ear. One voice making your blood curdle, the next making it sing. The same actions, the same words, wrapped up in the complex notion of two worlds. One makes you scream in fear, one makes you scream in pleasure. Things that should be wrong feel so right at times, cause an ache in your gut, a hardness that nothing can cure.

This place is heaven and hell combined into one wondrous world that only the chosen ones are now allowed to enter. This is the place of dark fantasies that you have only imagined. This is the place where I sacrifice my every belief and become what is desired, what will ease the ache if only a little. This is where I draw you in and hold you and use you until you can no longer satisfy my. This is where I taste you and drink from you, and allow you the same privileges from me. And once here, this is where you shall remain, even once I've released you. In your own mind you'll find yourself visiting the memories until the day you die.

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