Nothing

Alcohol have laid waste all hope.

I have no future in the normal sense. To love, to have a family, to live. Just empty words for me. Life has no meaning at all but to suffer. To atone. To die.

Life, such a vast empty waste. The sterile bad lands of the living. By reaching death I am more alive than most people. In the empty waste of life humans never really achieve living, they just reach survival. Life only grows, roots, in a deep somber desire to die. To die is to live. To enjoy life is to enjoy agony.

Suffering is the ultimate experience of life. It is life as life is, as it was meant to be when this blind, idiotic god created it.

To suffer. The real meaning of life.

Nigthmares

Sheer beauty is the nature of my nigthmares.

Pure beauty is the most terrible thing to admire, it's an epiphany of blood, desire and death.

A reckless, mindless desire. Desire as desire is. Blind and insane.

Beauty is the enemy of the sensualist and the doom of the artist.

Beauty is the real foe of the poet, always concealing its nature to his senses.

Beauty is what mankind is not.

Beauty is. I am not.

Beauty is my nightmare, my enemy and my desire.

To die in beauty's claws...

She

She is what angels should be.

My goddess...

She is my goddess.

I can not go on this time.

My Black Goddess of Despair will crush me.

She, my Black Goddess, will never love me.

No.

So I will die in despair and pain...

I have to thank her since she utterly destroyed me. Her sheer beauty and her purity did what alcohol, heroin and myself could not do.

My Goddess.... my Goddess... I love you, my Goddess...

My Black Goddess of Despair.

She is my...

She is my eveything.

My salvation and my doom.

She is despair in my soul made hope.

She is my death.

She is my death, since I can't go on without her.

She is my angel. My only angel. My beautiful angel.

To love her in this way, this hopeless love, this searing doomed love is my curse.

I'll atone for all I have done by loving her so much.

My angel...

My love...

My death...

my salvation

My god, I love her so much...

so pure... so pure...

Beauty

To watch her, all her naked beauty is such a hellish experience.

Extreme beauty sears your soul.

The horror is no match to to pure beauty. Pure, unspoiled, untouched beauty is the ultimate experience.

Close to it, you can not go on.

Pure beauty destroys you.

Pure beauty is an abyss, a warm tender abyss. Like the ocean or the sky, a beautiful abyss.

I long for her, for her abyss, she is like angels should be.

She is pure, far beyond perfection.
Her smile, her skin, she sears me. She is so pure... so pure... utterly untouched by this filthy world. She is far beyond angels. She is so fair. She don't belongs to this earthly corruption. She is far beyond that. She is purity herself.

She is my doom........

Beauty is my enemy.

Śūnyatā

Under the wretched bliss of alcohol I can see the ultimate nature of human life.

Emptiness.

All is empty. All is meaningless. All is ephemeral.

Futility is the real name of life.

Daily problems are so stupid, that's why my only worry is when and how much alcohol will I drink.

There is no use in worrying about anything else.

I will drink my life away...

Mea culpa

I could't care less about my health, sanity or future as the needle made its way to my vein.

The intravenous delivery of opiods is a form of art, a very elegant way to fall into the warm embrace of oblivion.

The needle is in the right place, at the first aspiration with the syringe you see the slow flow of blood... next, the feeling of something slowly flowing through your veins... that warm calm... flowing, reaching your soul as it infects your blood.

It's salvation...

The syringe is empty yet I'm full... full of peace, deeply intoxicated with problems to keep my heartbeats and almost unable to breath I fall into the bliss of the blank infinitude, the void absent of life.

The pure, pristine, clear dark void.

To live is a mistake, so I have to atone for it.

Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa...

Regret.

I regret every word I have written.

Unreal city

How can everything be so vulgar and filthy in this city?

So lame, so simple... life, humans crawling as the low species they are.

Walking.
Eating
Buying.

Living.
Diying.
Rotting...

The very essence of human life is meaningless.

Shallow, all of us are so shallow.

Shit, I can't stand the stench of the living...