Lonely Masquerades

Ephemeral! Ephemeral! Ephemeral!!

I won't deny it hurts, hurts to know that perhaps I'm not good enough, not good-looking enough, not charming enough, not masculine enough, not feminine enough... Not enough...

Not enough in the online world. Not enough for the men in the online world. It is vast and unbounded by love; it is a seeming endless charade of masquerades and feathered masks where shadows and pixellated forms roam, caress and call like sirens in heat. And when you are tired of turning to the endless whine of strings and pluck of harps; when you are finally exhausted from incessant chatter, facetious smiles and winks; when all around you brightens and chimes incessantly, you will still continue because you cannot stop this masquerade. You hope always, always to be satiated, but the poison flows dedicatedly to lust and passion. Cheers to the crowd of monstrous identities! Now let the liquid poison warm the blood.

One is never enough in this ephemeral world of eidolons and angels, half-fools and empty genuises. Oh.. can you smell that? The perfume of a hundred necks waft to my body, finding a hold on my furled sleeves, crisp collar and dark maroon pants. Smell, you ask? How does one smell a white space of colours and blank faces? In this colourless space of bits and bytes is where the flesh of colours come alive! In nothingsness I conjure magic, darkness and light; in nothingness the perfume of a hundred souls mask the delicate pain of loneliness; in nothingness I find company of desperate fools and hopeful naiveties.

Are there those out there who see beyond the flesh? Beyond the costumes and the masks and the livery? No.. there aren't. For until I find the livery sickening, those who do are liars and charlatans. It will take time before I retch the truth, and to do so I must first deny the ephemerality of this place of madness, I must deny masquerades and poisonous passion, I must deny lust and lasciviousness... I want to.. God knows I want to... But the loneliness seeps in again. The chill of the winter wind finds a husk to blow from within and whistle an eerie moan across a landscape of nothingness.

I want to love and be loved... so much, it hurts the body to imagine the depth that loneliness could scratch and burrow into the soul. But then again... the music... you hear it? Yes... that ominous sound of windpipes and flute twirling again a seductive melody... the smell... oh, the fragrance of fragmented bodies... wait... I'm coming back. Wait for me...

Memory

I find myself wafting now; floating in waking consciousness; drifting in memory...

The mnemonic odour of musk and sweat is smothered in insouciance; hundreds of hearts lay in stasis; my sheets only warmed by the palpitating rhythm of one's arteries.

Heroes and knights litter my imagination; wherefore did the glitter of magic fade; from the very crook of reality did hope dissipate.

Desire evaporates and finds a host; condensation of affectivities find solace in this husk of patience; dripping silently into happy nothingness.

Oh happy days, oh happy days; Carnivalesque fools in youthful naivety; once, so long ago, I smell the stench of decay.

One day, one day; surely there will be one day; wafting no more, floating no more, insouciant no more, he'll stay.

Vampiric death

It has been a long time since I visited these pages. A long time. But it is one of those days that is necessary to be cathartic.

***

I am a vampire. I lure those naive creatures to my bed and I suck them dry and then they are discarded, like empty carcasses for the dead. I am a fiend of flesh. My body needs the moisture of another's skin, the taste of another's breath, and the heat of another's eyes. They fuel me; conjure in me a life that is insatiable. I lack nothing but drive towards - and always (on)towards - a body without organs, so that I may float forever in the orgasmic force of intimacy and desire.

But today, just today, I stopped. I am limp with hunger and tearful with emptiness. A hunter now the hunted, the vampire is immobilised by its own poison. Who would have thought that one of those silly creatures of pleasure would detain me so? Who would have ever imagined that I would find pain in the food of affective sustenance? I stood there, watching him searched and touched by those distasteful guards. I stood there, unable to call or howl, speechless as he entered those plastic gates into a plane. He whispered kisses to my eyes and all I could do was smile and leave.

Smile and leave. Oxymoron of the inhuman condition. Why smile when I am bleeding all that has been fed into my body for the last week? Why leave when I could have summoned my persuasion and force against his timid will? Why? Because I have left humanity too long untouched. Loneliness and pain have too long been forbidden into my body. I have forgotten the meaning of life.

I did not choose this condition - of course. I did not choose to bleed away love and life. It... it just happened - really. Forever and away, he left me a shell to break, shatter and mould once again. He left me a broken, hollow reed of stalagmite to always remember the futility of perseverance. That stalagmite sparked luminescent and every jewel scintillated a memory, a desire, a possibility that would never be fulfilled. Its hollowness whistled a tune that would meet me at my coffin - loneliness.

Where now? What now? Who now? Nowhere. Nothing. No one. No more. I am tired. Yes... I am tired, and very hungry. It is simply the beginning of a vampiric death.