Thursday, April 02, 2009

Jetsetting vampires, and the cold peaceful unconsciousness.

When you're unconscious, you realize just how dirty reality is.

At least, when you're coming back around you do. And you don't need to be lying in a gutter to realize this. You can be in a well appointed penthouse apartment at the top end of town, with mood lighting and double glazing.

Reality is still dirty.

Your sight comes back, and your consciousness is assaulted with the harshness and brightness of everyday low-level lighting. You feel confused and upset, it feels like all the light in the world is being forced through your eyes and into your mind, too much light to comprehend, too bright to actually see anything.

And after a while of this, you realize there is a soundtrack to all of this, and it just pisses you off, because you preferred it in the dark and the silence. The noise of gentle music or concerned voices grates in your ears, and you struggle to understand what it is and what it all means.

And you get your head around it, the noise and the visual pollution, and you realize that everything is normal again, and there's nothing to worry about.

It's just life. Dirty, noisy life.

I'm craving that peaceful place in the darkness right now. Not in some teenage gothic fantasy way. Not in an "I wish I was dead" way.

I just want some peace, some peace without noise, without light, without the world in it, dirtying it all up. Or even just a heavy rainstorm- natures white noise.

I ran out of painkillers last night. I had a tooth extracted, it took the guy 25 minutes to wrestle it out. Finding it hard to concentrate.

And today...well. Today.

I made a couple of friends a few years back, people who live overseas, and basically are great people. Big, welcoming hearts, humorous natures, witty observations, all those good things. I met them through a couple of septic vampires who only exist to get what they can from good people, and leave them feeling raped.

They have a real talent with it.

I don't want to waste time remembering them, but the friends we shared, that's another thing. They got raped too, eventually. And when they did, they realised just how long they'd been getting shafted for. Just how much back-alley disrespect had been eventuating. How poisonous the broth hath become.

So they did what anybody in their right mind would do, and told the vampires to fuck off. Not welcome, sayonnara. "Get thee behind me...", and all that.

A couple of late night conversations over the internet were undertaken at length, to discover the true depth of the disease, how much I knew, how many of my warnings went unheeded.

And they had made their case clear to me in those talks- the vampires would be no more. The good people were angry, to the point they even relished the thought of some power other than karma dishing out a little street justice, just to even things out for the citizenry somewhat. I always assured them karma will have its way, the truth will out, and the vampires would enjoy an early bedtime with no dessert.

Years passed.

And today, on facebook, I saw that they were all friends again. Somehow, the vampires had ingratiated themselves back into the circle, and myself being in that circle, suddenly feeling polluted by it.

Delete.

The story should end there, really, because I've been alive long enough to know better than to be surprised. People are painfully weak, and they love nothing more than some A-Grade bullshit to spice of the flavour of an otherwise bland day-to-day. But these people? I thought they were somehow higher up than that.

But they're not.

To forgive is divine, of course, but to forgive an entity that is still wearing a leopardskin coat is plain offensive. The spots are the same, as will be the result.

So I'm viciously angry. Angry that these good people have laid down to get another dose of hot air and ballast, and in return to get nothing but a few stories, and a good using. What can I do? Nothing. I said what I said years ago for a reason. Nothing's changed, and I mean nothing.

I keep giving people too much credit, that they will be strong, they'll desire the right path, they'll be happy with less of a fairytale, but more of a solid grounding.

But everybody wants Star Wars, and no one wants to wait.

You can write that down.

Do I feel superior?

No.

I feel weakened and infected by the weakness all around me.

Will I change?

Hell no!

I crave reality, and I don't mind walking a difficult road when it leads somewhere worthwhile.

But in the meantime, some silence and some darkness would be so greatly appreciated.



This is knifey, from 'the internet'.