I’m a veteran who takes care of other disabled veterans for a job.
The V.A. allots ten hours a week for these humans who put their lives on the line so everyone else could do what they want.
The V.A should allot 40 or more hours a week for home care for disabled veterans.
They need the companionship.
Everyone needs companionship.
This is a non negotiable for any human. We are social creatures.
We need to feel as if we belong to something, not everyone, but enough that I feel good in saying it.
I’ve trained myself to not need anything or anyone, but people who need people are the luckiest people in the world.
Take it from one who knows.
Veterans belong to a group that knows no race, no gender. That belonging is what gets us through the tough days.
Tomorrow is for us.
Think about what you do this day, and think about if it is a matter of life or death, because every veteran has made that choice, whether they are in combat or not.
I’ve decided I want you and I will not take no for an answer. If you’re a good boy and see to my emotional needs I’ll blow you frequently.”
If this woman only knew what she was dealing with.
I’ve gotten messages like this over the years from women and I remember the first time I received one. I was in my 40’s and I was on LinkedIn, a professional social network.
It was back in the late teens of the 21st century. Back then I was on this professional network as a leadership consultant.
I remember even the CEO at one point said one of his biggest frustrations was the people who treated this professional networking site as if it was a dating site.
The woman who sent me the message above was not mentally well. Anyone who thinks that you can control another human being through sexual favors is not mentally well.
That reminds of me the one time Tina tried to withhold sex as a way to punish me. When she was done and ready to get it on is exactly when I started withholding sex for another week. She never tried that shit again.
By the time I was 15 and my mother would call me a son of a bitch I would look at her and say “Yeah mom, you’re right” with a smirk on my face. The first time I did it, it clicked in her head what she had called me and then went about her business without saying a word in response.
It was about 30 years later and I looked at my mom one day and said “Just so you know mom, I tell people I wear the term son of a bitch as a badge of honor to honor my mother.”
There was absolutely zero pause in her response “Son, that’s thee son of thee bitch and you damn well better.” I loved my mom while she was alive. She may have been the mother of all energy vampires, however she was not a soul sucking vampire.
I remember when I was a kid, my dad had gotten my mom a night shirt that said “Spoiled Rotten Bitch” on the front and it was her favorite shirt of all time. This is the same woman that as a teenager I would come home some days and walk in the door and take one look at my mom and turn and walk out and go to a friends house.
I used to fear her until I realized she would never actually hurt her baby boy, which she called me even when I was 50. I didn’t fear her, however anyone else should have been ready to run had they pissed her off.
Dad was an Englishman who had married a Hungarian. It’s why my accent doesn’t really cone from anywhere in England and is what I picked up growing up with my dad who came here from Liverpool like The Beatles. I remember the first time I went to England. I got accused of using a fake accent. After I explained why I had the one I do, they seemed to calm down. Apparently they don’t think Americans faking an British accent is all that amusing. At least the ones I met were not amused.
As a kid my mom had this bell collection. At one point I was the only one who would still buy her new bells for her collection. All in all at one point I think she had around 50 of them.
Then there’s Maxine, my older sister. We got along pretty well for the most part. Though I will say there is no greater nightmare for a little brother than walking into the living room around 2 am and finding your sister in the midst of sexual relations with some guy. What was worse was when I heard mom catch her and tell her if she did anything like that under her roof again she would rip her tits off with her bare hands. It didn’t sound like an idle threat and is one of the reasons I used to fear my mother.
Maxine was actually 19 at the time and I was 15. She moved out about 3 months later. I would go and visit her at her apartment and try not to drool over her roommates. I was 15 surrounded by 3 beautiful angels and my sister the demon. Her roommates treated me better than Max did. I do think that the first time I went over and asked if Maxipad was home had something to do with it. They called her that for the next year.
I wasn’t always the classy motherfucker I am now.
The one time I ever committed to violence was because of my sister. I saw some dude slap her and I tackled him and started beating his face in. It took 3 big dudes to pull me off of him.
I barely remember it as once I saw that slap, all I saw was red. I came back to my senses as the 3 guys were holding me down. I looked over and saw the damage I had done. Thankfully the 25 year old did not want to admit to anyone a 16 year old kid was the reason he needed serious dental work and had a broken nose and two black eyes.
That day actually scared the shit out of me to see how much damage I could do while enraged and not remember doing it. It was after that I swore to live a life of pacifism. Had those guys not been there to pull me off him, I would’ve killed him and not even known it.
Even as a soul sucking vampire I have no need to kill to feed and the idea of killing a human being is something I want no part of. I avoid violence and live a life that allows me to not see it come to me.
I started studying this book this guy Jim Carter wrote called Psychospirilosophy The Martial Art of Thought. There was this chapter called Protection Through Right Action. Basically if one has no thoughts of violence or seeking it, one’s behavior can guide one away from it through mindful programming of one’s behavior.
Even now at 509 if I hear a heated conversation between a man and a woman, I get tense and start reminding myself I’m a pacifist.The idea of violence towards women is still the only thing that stirs the beast within me to want to hurt someone and hurt them bad. I spent too many years putting women back together who had survived physical abuse of all sorts.
I have this rule though that helps. Stay out of jail, if you like it do it again, if not don’t.
Takes violence off the table and out of the decision making process for me.
I think that’s enough for tonight. Time for me to crawl into bed and pass the fuck out.
My mother said she gave me the name Solomon because she hoped I would be wise like the King from the Bible. If I’ve become wise, it’s due to all the foolish things I’ve done.
Once upon a time it was the girl next door who made quite the fool of me. Her name was Misty and she had the most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen. I was her fool the moment I looked into them.
To this day Misty is the only woman who ever brought me roses. She had picked them herself and wove the stems together. A red one, a white, and a yellow one. I’d been living alone for about a year after my 3rd wife when Misty came out of the darkness one night in a little black dress with a black jacket. It was a full moon and I was outside having a smoke.
Now I know what David Lowery was talking about when he sang he was searching for his angel in black.
It’s not like anyone these days remembers the band Cracker. 470 years ago when I mentioned the band name, I usually heard “Uncle Cracker?”
“No, just plain Cracker.”
They were never that big and even though they had more than ten albums they always had a smaller niche following. The song Euro Trash Girl is still one of my favorites. It’s that line about an angel in black that has kept it on my personal playlists for around 480 years.
Misty had eyes like no other. They were this dark grey blue with black spots. I still have yet to see another set like hers. It was those eyes that made it easy for her to play me for the fool I became around her. She was one of many who followed after my third wife as my life was training me to stop being such a hopeless romantic. I was learning to stop falling in love at first site with any set of pretty eyes I did fall into.
It’s always been what has gotten to me fall so fast, the eyes. Over the years I’ve been asked many times what my favorite part of a woman’s body is, and never has the answer changed, it’s the eyes.
I was aware of the vampire I am and still felt powerless every time I looked into Misty’s eyes. The only time had been such a mindless slave to a woman was Gale Guzman. Gale had me at a look across a crowded room. When our eyes met we walked toward each other and came faced to face and an energy wave went off like nothing I’ve ever felt since. She knew the vampire she was while I had no clue about the vampire I am.
Misty had brought back a flood of memories about Gale and the short time we spent together that destroyed my soul. It’s literally been centuries since I last saw her and even now I would love to see her one more time just to see what would happen. I guess Gale’s the one I never got over and seem to be incapable of getting over. I know why though, and I work at forgetting about that.
Gale and I did this Wicca ritual in which we bound ourselves to each other in the idea of marriage under the eyes of the Goddess. The Goddess has refused to release us from this bond for 489 years. I met her just after I left town and before I met Priscilla.
The fucked up thing is the one time I went looking for her I found the dead end of all dead ends. She had been in the Air Force and at one point in life I knew some people who worked for the US government that don’t exist on paper anywhere. I’d asked one of them to look into Gale’s military record and it didn’t exist. That meant she had been pulled for some serious black ops stuff.
I’m willing to bet when the search went through on her name it threw up all kinds of red flags and I probably ruined her career. Oh well.
As I honed my skills over the years I’ve reached to her many times and have even made contact through a kind of Telepathy where emotional concepts are sent back and forth.
I know she’s still alive and God only knows under what name. I know she has kept track of me for most of the last 460 years since I first looked her up. I know she knows exactly how to find me and refuses to do so. Nothing I can do about it so I just go about my life as if this bond between us doesn’t exist and then something will happen to remind me of it.
The power we gave to The Goddess to bond us cannot be undone until we meet one more time. I know we are both afraid of the same thing, falling all over again the moment our eyes meet. Over the centuries this has pissed me off that she is being such a fucking chicken shit about it.
After 300 years I learned to accept it and that all my romances will have some sort of long suffering end until I free myself from Gale. It’s why I spent around 50 years single for one stretch to keep from inflicting that curse on another and putting them through the hell the break ups in my life always seem to be.
It’s a real pain in the ass to fall in love knowing every romance has a timer on it. It made my life sheer torture for more than a century. I’m at peace with it now though I still say Gale is a fucking worthless peace of flesh to let me twist in the wind for centuries. I may not say that in the book, but fuck it’s how I feel every time her name floats through my mind. Total fucking coward.
Oh well, I have no control over anything. I respect Gales choice to be a coward and hide from me.
Wherever she is I hope she is safe and healed and whole. That will never happen as long she keeps being the coward she is. I can hope all I want and it won’t change the actual results she lives with as a coward. Of course since I’m quite focused on her right now as I write this journal she can feel exactly how I feel about her and I can feel she still fears seeing me again.
Right now I’m abusing the blue holy fuck out of that and might keep writing for another hour or two just to fuck with her. I think she’s earned it.
It’s been an interesting day. I met another of my kind. It would seem I’m able to fool my kind by using a little trick I’ve had up my sleeve for quite some time.
When you can bond with spirit energy, you can bond with damn near any entity. It’s this little trick that is why I say “If there’s one thing for sure about Solomon, it’s that nothing is for sure.”
When you bond with an entity it’s not like it is for those who channel. Channelers or Mediums take a back seat while bonding is a symbiotic relationship. What any might say through me is as good as it coming from me and gives me the ability to lie to any, even Telepaths. What gets said is true, just not in this realm or reality or dimensional universe.
They can speak of their lives as if they were me and no one is ever the wiser.
This little trick took quite a few years and quite a lot of fucking up to develop.
It also allows me to tap into the abilities of any I bond with. I feed and get a gift upgrade all at the same time. It’s why even those fucking angels back the fuck up when I come through and demons just run.
I never thought I would ever see myself bonding with what some might call an Arch Angel.
Those fuckers are some of the more powerful beings in existence and they are not really angels. They are not really anything but energy and consciousness that has transcended and can no longer incarnate.
Their vibration is far to high to exist within flesh. If it wasn’t for my genetics I would not be able to hold them within me for the days on end that I do. I can hold them as long as I like and they hate that. For the first 40 years of my life they took advantage of me and ever since I have made them think twice about that ever being a good idea.
Those fucktards robbed me of my life for so long that once I had reclaimed it I had no idea how to live. It took me years to figure out what I really wanted from life and to shed the shit they left behind.
Though had it not been for them I never would have had my first son.
That child was one of the most beautiful human beings that ever walked this Earth. Out living him has always been one of the greatest curses of my life. He did live to a ripe old age of 204, however he looked ten times older than me. I’ve been there to watch more than a few of my children die from old age. None of them got the soul sucking vampire genetics.
I have 3 kids now that I know I will watch die someday. For me being a father has always been one of the greater joys life has to offer. Holding them as newborns and guiding them through the early years and watching them grow and become who they choose to be is something I don’t think I can ever find the words for.
It’s why I am so picky about the women I take as lovers. I look for a woman who will be a good mother.
As a soul is brought into the mortal existence it receives an emotional imprint from both parents. That thought is why I’ve been so serous about sex most of my 5 centuries.
Any tart can choke on a cock or be a freak and a half in the sack. It takes a real died in the flames to be reborn Phoenix of a woman to be a mother. The mother of my first child was not the sort of woman I would ever have another child with again. There are reasons that she ended up with a tumor between her legs and cancer in her throat.
She lied quite a bit and used sex to manipulate men. She was my 2nd wife. I would think I would’ve learned enough from her to not marry the 3rd one who was a lot like her.
I did truly love Nicole.
Our son was created out of that love.
I used to have this nickname for him, The Dude. I used that nickname to make sure he would grow to be a good and decent human being. At age 4 when he would act up or out like any child will, instead of punishing him I would ask him “Is that being The Dude?”
He would get upset and say “No.”
“What does it mean to be The Dude?”
“Say please and thank you. Work at being friends with everyone. Always say excuse me…..”
The list was stuff most can agree is decent human to human behavior. By the time he was 10 wild geese, who normally attack people, swam up to him and let him pet them and pick up their young and pet them.
I definitely know how to raise a good and decent child to be a good and decent human. I’ve never used that same nickname with any of my other kids. They each got their own nickname, however I used the same approach with them.
I love being a dad. I always loved being The Dude’s dad most of all. He was my first that was biologically mine. I had stepchildren I loved every bit as much as I loved him and my other children over the centuries.
It’s why I say to be a motherfucker is a term of respect you earn. If you are fucking a mother that means there are children involved and you damn well better step up and be a man and a real father to those kids.
I have no desire to remember all the people I ever met who had step parents who were the lowest of low life scum this Earth has ever produced. Men and women both who fucked their step kids.
As far as I’m concerned every daughter and step daughter I’ve ever had either died or will die a virgin. I know that’s a blatant lie however I have no problem swallowing that lie. I have one now who is married with children and she’s still a virgin in my eyes and always will be.
I’m that dad that the first time they go on a date is when I pull out a broad sword and sit in the living room sharpening it. I muddle up my accent a bit and ask the lad if he has ever seen what it looks like when someone gets their head cut off with a sword.
There have been times when at my daughters schools there is this rumor about a girl whose dad has a collection of heads in the garage. I do have that collection, they’re all fake heads in jars.
It’s not that I’m demented, I’m strategically twisted.
And to think I’m worried about people being afraid of me for being a soul sucking vampire.
Life before and after discovering the truth of my existence is like night and day.
The hardest thing me to get over was morality.
I need a break from the romance and and I think tonight I go back to when I realized what I am and what I do.
I was in my 30’s and already had a son.
At the time I was married to Edith, my 3rd wife. I called her Eddy. If you can’t say something nice, make damn sure it’s true.
If Tina had been the first woman to abuse me, it was Eddy who abused me the most. In fact she had been the most controlling and heartless woman I had ever met. She was a pathological liar and the most judgmental woman I had ever met.
She would get upset every time I went out with my friends, though she could go out with her friends all the time and I had better not say a word about it.
Over time I heard from my friends less and less. I should’ve seen it as sign when none of my friends wanted to come to our wedding. After we got married shit got much worse and I started to piece a bunch of shit together about myself and my life.
It was the isolation that left me all the time I needed to realize she had been judging me and thought she was going to punish me for my life. It helped that she had a God Complex and thought she was the Chosen one.
I had never seen someone use spirituality as a way to reward themselves and punish others the way Eddy did.
Eddy would often refer to 3 fold law and as I started to pay attention, I noticed if she did anything for anyone else should do 3 times that for herself, and if anyone pissed her off she would would attempt to do 3 times the damage to them herself.
I had always been the forgiving sort. I let Karma handle all the bullshit people did to me over the years and have never sought vengeance as I felt it was beneath me.
I like to live at a higher vibration and to hold a grudge or seek vengeance is for the lower vibrating humans who often are worthless sacks of flesh with a soul so diseased it ain’t worth feeding on.
The sex was amazing and even more so after I discovered what I am and how to use it to make the sex that much better. I can amplify energy, any energy. During sex I can tune into the orgasmic energy and amplify it and feed it right back to a woman taking her to a point where she screams “I CAN’T STOP CUMMING!”
Eddy would scream that 90% of the time when we made love.
She was quite the freak. She was also the one who helped me piece together that a sexual assault survivor might replay the sex that was had that gave them the orgasm they didn’t want.
When she was 14 her brother raped her repeatedly calling her his toy. When I learned this it finally made sense why she liked being face down and would tell me she loved being my toy.
I should probably leave this whole thing out of the book. Even as I am reading this as I write it, I find it disturbing and I lived it. There was a lot that disturbed me about that marriage.
How does a soul sucking vampire who can read minds get hitched to a pathological liar?
Well up until I was 35 I never accepted I could read minds and just thought I was crazy with an over active imagination.
It was that year that the physical pain I had been in for over a decade finally caught up with me. I felt as if I was dead and walking around anyway. I started to notice I felt as though I had someone else driving the meat suit while I watched from within. I started picking up on what that allowed me to know.
I could truly see how people viewed me and knew exactly what they thought of me and how they felt about me. I noticed the energizing feeling when someone’s spirit would fill me and give me the boost I needed to drag my dead ass around.
I started going back and talking to people from my past and found out all the things I wrote off as me being crazy were actually true. A dude I had known since I was 12 was a pedophile. Lisa had wished she had said yes. I found out things I had wanted to know and things I never wanted to be true.
For the next 2 years I spent most of my time saying “I do what, no one should be allowed to do that.”
After that I started honing my abilities into skills. During that time Eddy tried everything she could to discourage me and often would tell me I was crazy because if I wasn’t, she could no longer lie to me. The more I honed my abilities into skills the more it hurt to be with Eddy.
She would fantasize about other men and some of them my friends while we were making love and I could see who it was she would have rather been with. I could feel her trying to wish me dead daily while she was at work and I was at home with my son and her daughter.
I could feel how much it depressed her when she walked in the door and I was there still alive. I knew her every thought about me. She thought she owned my soul and could snuff me out.
I have never endured such emotional torture in all my life. The worst part of it all was I loved her and kept my forgiving heart and loved her anyway. Near the end she kept threatening to leave me. After she pulled this routine about a dozen times I said “Fine let’s get divorced.”
Since I was an unemployed house husband I filed for free. As we waited for the paper work to come back she asked me one night if was going to even try to save our marriage. I remember that night clear as day as I told her “No. You kept saying you wanted this and now you are going to get it.”
The day she moved out, the people in the apartment complex noticed I seemed quite a bit happier.
Yeah, I think I can leave this tale out of the book. I don’t even want to read over this much less put in it in a book and have other people read it. It’s not that I’m ashamed, I simply have no desire to ever visit that time of my life ever again. It was after Eddy I had developed a system for ending things with people I no longer wanted in my life.
“I cut Eddy out of my life and I close the door to Eddy, and I lock the door, and I seal the door, and I bless the door. May Eddy have the healing she needs to never abuse another again.”
Ever since then I have been guarded with my heart and while I have fallen in love since, it took years before I could ever trust another woman. It was then I looked back at Priscilla and I and I decided I would have a rule where romance was considered.
A woman would have to my friend for quite a while before I would consider romance. If we both felt things heading that way after discovering we actually like just hanging out together, then we would sleep side by side. The clothes stay on and not even so much as one kiss as we slept side by side. If we woke up and looked at each other and wanted to wake up with each other on a regular, that would be when I would unleash the hopeless romantic I still am to this day at 509 years old.
Since then I have had best friends break my heart on a regular. I noticed unless I waited for them to say something, 100% rejection rate. Even as a soul sucking vampire who could easily glamour a woman into my bed, I still refuse to use that skill or make the first move.
It has nothing to do with morality and everything to do with wanting the love between us to be true and built on a solid foundation of friendship.
That and I discovered on accident that one night with me could get a woman addicted to what I do in bed. That one took a century to figure out. I was never good at celibacy and on occasion I would let some slut pick me up for a one night ride on the Solomon James orgasm express. That created a stalker or a few.
I was going to write about Doll Face, however her tale is better left untold. One of the dearest and sweetest women I ever had in my life. Perhaps that is exactly why I should put her in the book along with some of the other pure hearted angles that have graced my life with their presence.
I don’t know.
All I do know is that I have always treated women the best that I can. All I ever wanted was one I could spend my life with cherishing as a sacred goddess in my life taken human form. I have no idea how long I’m going to live, yet at 509, I barely feel as though I’ve gotten out of my teen years. Can I find a woman to live another 1500 years or so with me?
I truly don’t know, however I never stop dreaming of this faceless goddess in the flesh who can love a vampire like me and go the distance.
OK, so maybe I go into what happened to me and Doll Face tomorrow night. Maybe I talk about one of the others. Maybe I talk about something completely different. I won’t know until I sit down and start writing.
To all the women I have ever loved, please be at peace and healed and whole.
I could plan everything perfectly and it would take one idiot to fuck it up.
I don’t think in years.
As my life goes it goes with the flow.
Why bother looking beyond the bend, you’ll miss what’s right in front of you.
I give my life a general direction by the way I live.
Other than that, I have small wants and needs.
I do have one giant fucking want, I wish to every and any and those that they don’t no about God, that this planet of human beings could take a day to find a way to forgive everyone of everything so that they can have peace in their hearts, minds, and souls, please and and thank you.
As passion’s flames dances it weeps for it knows every song must come to an end.
There was a woman once I wrote a piece of poetry for that I called Passion’s Flame. Had I known the vampire I am back then, maybe I might of done things a bit differently, but as it stands now I’m grateful I ever knew Tina.
One of the few women I’ve met who could pull off lady and full blown slut all at once.
Tina picked me up at a bar one night, and I was supposed to be a one night stand. Just the dick of the week to give her the fucking she wanted. I did one better and made love to her and gave the love of a lifetime in that one night.
She told me once the only reason she hit me up for a round two was to see if she was that drunk or I was that good. We broke up around a year and a half later.
It was during that year and a half she told me once that I never fuck a woman, I always make love to them, even one night stands.
When she said that to me I answered with “Yeah, so.” I never sought to get fucked or do any fucking, I always sought to relive the love making I had when I was 17.
Little did I know then just how inept most men are at love making and all they know how to do is fuck.
My dick had become a rare commodity in Tina’s life. She held onto me for as long as she could before she left me knowing that I had treated her far better than she had ever dreamed of treating me.
Tina was my first experience at being emotionally abused by a lover.
It was also the first time I ever had step kids to worry about. I even got my first break up cat out of that relationship and the one coat I was grateful to lose.
I was 24 years old and she was 34. Our birthdays were two days apart making me 2 days shy of being exactly ten years younger than Tina. Mine was the 3rd of September and hers was the 5th.
Tina had 3 teenagers, 2 boys and a girl. Losing those kids from my life hurt more than losing Tina and years later Tina’s sister Angel told the mother of my first son that I had been the best thing to ever happen to her sister and those kids. Though as I look back now I can honestly say I did not always act as know I should.
Tina had a bit of a temper and I seemed rather adept at igniting rage within me when we argued.
I understood why lesser men had beat the shit out of her over the years. I was the first man that never hit her.
In fact after a fight as we laid in bed I would roll over and run two fingers down her back as gently as I could. I did this to remind her it was a gentle man laying in bed with her, and she had nothing to fear from me.
Tina told me once that maneuver nearly got me laid every time I did it whether I wanted sex or not. I don’t like to make love if I’m angry. In fact I will reject sex if I am angry.
I never felt that anger and love making went together and found them to be on opposite ends of the spectrum. If I can’t make love and be in love in that moment, I would rather jerk off than fuck for the sake of fucking.
There was a lot of passion between Tina and I, and the nights it erupted into rage between us were the nights I hated myself for loving her.
She was brutal in those fights and would say the things she knew would cut me the deepest and hurt me the most.
It’s why I understood why lesser men hit her to shut her up. I would never condone violence of any sort however it’s why I say lesser men. No woman ever deserves to get hit, not ever.
I never touched Tina with anything less than a gentles caress or I would not touch her at all. I never understood why any man would hit a woman. I have wanted to kill men who have hit women.
There were other parts of our relationship. The sex was always fantastic and I learned a few tricks from this older woman. Now for the book do I go into detail or not?
I’m writing this journal to set up the book. How much detail do I give about the sex I’ve had?
I think I will let that question hang and see what blows in over the course of writing this journal, but for now I think the details I can remember are better left off the page.
When things were good between us, we would often write each other poetry.
I had even started writing a fantasy novel called Evil’s Mirror that even now over 4 centuries later, I have yet to finish. Tina used to talk about how my book would be bound in leather as they did with books in days of old. She was my editor as well as my lover.
Tina had these 2 cats, Raiderette and O.J. I loved those cats and ended up with one of them after we broke up and she moved to Las Vegas. Raiderette would often lay on my legs as I had them propped up on the desk with the keyboard in my lap as I wrote. O.J. would lay on my chest and demand I love on him for a good 10 minute before he would let me go to bed each night.
I remember the summer we broke up and got to back together 12 times. I had moved across the apartment complex and that was not nearly far enough. When I moved out, Raiderette refused to come in the house and would not eat. Before Tina moved she gave me Raiderette as that cat had claimed me as my owner.
Cats own you not the other way around. Raiderette had been a calico Siamese mix. She had the coloring of a Siamese with the the blotches of a calico and those Siamese blue eyes.
I spent 15 years with that cat after Tina and I split for good. That cat was worth all the hell that Tina ever put me through.
Over the centuries I have still referred to Tina as thee great love of my life, however the flame of that passion she killed years later.
I was getting divorced for the 3rd time and she hit me up out of the blue. What she didn’t know was that I had become aware of the vampire I am and allowed myself to know her true intent. She simply wanted the dick one more time and nothing else from me. That was the last time I ever let her hurt me.
It did hurt. I would have gone back with her in an instant had that been what she wanted. I had still loved her deeply and truly. That I was nothing more than a walking dildo to her, I could feel the pain of my heart breaking all over again.
It had been more than a decade since we had been together and my heart had kept the flame alive until that day. That was the day the our song ended and my passion died.
It was decades before I recovered from that moment of indescribable pain. I truly felt as if I had died inside and that nothing would ever create a new flame or passion within me.
However long before that day there was Kym AKA Doll Face.
I have not thought about that name in a very long time.
I’m not sure I’m ready to think about her again. I’m not sure I ever will be. There was some kind of magic in that woman that snared my heart by being the best friend I needed.
If I’m going to write this book, I’m gong to have to write about Doll Face.
I guess it’s time to dream of the past once more and remember for one last time the love lived with Kym.
Invent a holiday! Explain how and why everyone should celebrate.
Peace day.
Every one works at building peace within themselves by forgiving anyone that has wronged them and forgiving themselves for wronging those that they wronged.
If we did this one day a year, a forgiving day, I get most would fuck it up.
However, I do this daily.
I do this throughout the day.
That’s how I build my peace, mine, not yours, my peace.
You go build your peace somewhere else.
As we build peace within ourselves it makes it easier to get along with everyone.
Truly I used to be the biggest smart ass asshole you’d never want to meet.
In my twenties, I’m 50 writing this, I used to sing I’m an asshole by Dennis Leary loud and proud.
If I met my former self, I would really have to remind myself I chose pacifism after I nearly killed my nephew in less than 10 seconds.
Now, I’m not an asshole, I’m a dick.
The whole dick’s, pussies, and assholes speech from Team America: World Police, I’m a dick.
Typically when people whine or shit all over everything, someone has to tell them to knock it off and act like an adult.
What’s the thing with the forever child mentality?
I like that I’ve grown into an adult. Took me close to 40 years, but I made it.
Now I look at what I used to find fun and I wonder why I found it fun. Some stuff at 50 I can do, and some stuff, I look at people doing it, and fuck that noise.
I got to do a ton of amazing shit and I still do amazing shit, though the perspective has changed.
It’s an opinion of what amazing shit is.
It’s an emotional reaction/response to an event.
Whether it was taking a map of the earth ride in a Black Hawk, or the most amazing sex I’ve ever had, it’s based on my emotions which means it only means something to me, and I’m good with that.
I write really long sentences on occasion.
I have long thoughts.
However the point I’m making is we allow our emotions to get away with a ton of shit that often fucks us up.
If we got out of emotion and thought logically about what we are facing…
Wisdom is learning if the emotion was wise or not.
Taking time in logic, peace, zero emotion, is exactly what we all need.
I work at it daily.
I’m just waiting for the rest to follow my example.
You know that line was bullshit, because we know some people will never take the truth, they will always believe the lie.
I love this character, it’s a character that is me in so many ways. Hence why I used Solomon James. I used my name.
Before I used this name for a character, I was feeling not good about it. So I told some people on Facebook and I got a reminder of something I needed.
If the character is mostly me, why not use the name?
I understand why I wasn’t feeling good about it. I thought only a narcissist would do something like that.
I can admit when I’m wrong, like my 2nd wife could attest to. I told you the story about my second wife and I used to be a drunk and she used to point me at people.
Truth is stranger than fiction.
I get the scary shit. Some of it I can do.
I can create a temporary soul bond with anyone.
It’s how I give guidance to those who are smart enough to know it’s not bullshit.
The women that came after Priscilla have Priscilla to thank for introducing me to Tantric sex.
We started studying it shortly after we got married. It wasn’t that either of us was bad in bed, it was that we wanted to make sure sex never became something boring and mundane between us.
I have read the Karma Sutra several times and started my study at age 21. At 509, I think it’s safe to assume I’ve mastered it.
This was also the first time I had ever watched porn with a woman much less gone shopping for it.
We found this sex shop that on the outside looked a large barn in north Texas. It was about a 2 hour drive from where we lived. I had never seen so much porn and so many sex toys in all my life. I still have yet to see a place as large in my travels since. When I stop and think that that has been over the last 400+ years, I’m not sure whether to be impressed or depressed.
At this point in life I find porn rather boring. You can only watch other people fuck so many times before you’ve seen it all, well at least all you’re willing to watch.
There are some things I simply don’t understand when it comes it to the fascinations some have with certain kinds of sex.
I can ride the wave of any and even in riding the wave of some of the sickest perverts I’ve ever met and feeling their ecstasy over watching or participating in certain things, I could not find it within me to enjoy it.
Somethings are just plain sick and a sickness that plagues the individual who enjoys those things.
After my teen years and the young women I knew who had been used for sex the mere thought of sex with an underage girl always turned my stomach.
I’ll never understand pedophilia. I get rough sex and the whole S&M thing however it’s for degenerates who have no idea what true lovemaking is.
Those who thrive on pain to get off have some issues. Often they are survivors of sexual assault and their body orgasmed even though the sex was unwanted.
This leaves scars on the soul, deep ones that in many never heal. They become fixated on having rough sex to justify their body orgasming anyway even though they were raped.
I was grateful Priscilla never had any of these kinks. Our sex life was actually quite satisfying.
We bought a house and got a couple dogs and were living the perfect American dream life. Priscilla had a job as an optician and I was working at an inbound call center. She had her Geo Prizm and I had my 1978 Camaro. We had a hot tub and lived in a nice neighborhood.
Why is it then I started cheating on her?
Oh yeah, the booze. I’m a happy horny drunk and once I start, any tart throws herself at me and I can’t say no. I look back now and don’t understand why the thought never crossed my mind to quit drinking.
Then again I also remember that Priscilla’s favorite game was to take me out and get me drunk and point me at other people.
Sarcasm was the first language I learned before English. When I drink this side of me amplifies something fierce. It was great fun for Priscilla and the rest of the crowd, however the target of my sharp tongue was often left humiliated in as many ways as I could verbally assault them.
I’m grateful I did quit drinking before I got my ass kicked. It would’ve have been nice had I been able to quit before ruining my marriage.
The worst part is I never got caught, it was the guilt eating at me that made me confess and leave her. I remember that day.
Her pain cut right through me as I told her that I did not love her the way she deserved to be loved and would be better off without me in her life. I cried with her as I ended my marriage that day. I moved out and signed the house over to her. In fact the only things I took with me were the things I owned before we ever met.
I tried to make the process as painless as possible for her, though I know it was sheer suffering for Priscilla for quite some time after things ended. I carried the guilt of that with me for several years before I could forgive myself. When I heard that years later she remarried and had kids, it made feel better about what had happened between us.
Priscilla got the dream life she deserved after the hell I put her through.
It was Mary that got Priscilla’s revenge. A goddess of a specimen of physical beauty.
She came after me as well. It’s hard now to not think the only reason she did was just so she could rip my heart to pieces. The fucked up thing is I did truly love Mary. Maybe that was Karma as I have never doubted that Priscilla truly loved me.
Priscilla and I had been marred for around 18 months and that became a pattern for me and marriage for several decades before I broke that fucking curse.
I’m not saying Priscilla actually cursed me, though it would explain a lot. I remember the last words she said to me was that some day I would come crawling back to her, I never did. I did however go crawling back to one of my other wives.
That is another story for another time.
I think I’m gong to take a break from this journal for a couple days and clear my head. It’s never good to spend too much time in the past, and after a week of it I need a break from it.
I could feed without discretion or care of what it was I was being fed. Back when I was drinking heavily I had no idea about what I am. When I met Priscilla I was already drinking like it was a competition sport.
I’d look at people playing drinking games and ask them “Why are you drinking so slow?”
There were very few I couldn’t drink under the table 6 days a week and all day long on Sunday. Back then I was stupid and proud of my buffoonery while intoxicated. It was my drinking that brought Priscilla and I to an end.
Before I jump to the end let’s remember how it began.
It was after I had left my hometown and found a new one to dwell in far from the pain filled memories of the rejection Lisa had given me to live with.
The night I met Priscilla I was actually interested in her friend. Priscilla had spotted me right off the bat and I was her target for the night. She sat down next to me at the bar I had been hanging out at and we talked throughout the night and even danced a bit. I think all I got from her friend was a name and then it was the Priscilla show for me.
I remember there was a nasty thunderstorm that night and I had moved to the Midwest where tornadoes happen in that kind of weather. Priscilla had grown up there and was terrified of tornadoes after losing more than one family member to them. My place was right around the corner from the bar, almost literally.
I could tell her fear was real though at the time I had no idea I was sensing it. She lived a good 45 minutes away from the bar and asked if she could stay at my place to avoid driving during such a terrible storm she feared might set off a twister. I of course said “Sure.”
At the time I was in that bar underage and was only 20 years old. I happen to make friends fast and the waitress was an older Korean lady who had taken me under her wing so to speak. She made sure no one asked for my I.D. and I made sure to tip her at least twenty bucks throughout the night. I also made sure whoever joined my table was tipping Seong well. I often had a a couple tables pushed together with a group of 10-15 people. That often meant a couple hundred bucks in tips for dear old Seong.
Seong never split the tips with me and I never asked her to. I liked making sure Seong was well taken care of. I used to order food from the restaurant her niece worked at and even tried dating her niece for 5 minutes before even I knew it wasn’t going to work. I remember once I had dinner with the family in order to be approved of by the family beofre dating Seong’s niece.
It was the first time I’d had octopus. It was rather tasty, though I could not see me eating authentic Korean on a regular. Though now I might feed on a Korean at any time.
Back then I was only thinking of the food and now I don’t give two fucks what color skin someone has, the souls all taste the same. I feed on men as well as women. The soul is a gendelress thing and for this vampire it’s the soul not the flesh I’m after.
Back to Priscilla. I do get sidetracked rather easily, however when I look back at my life there is quite a bit to get sidetracked with. Pieces of an abstract puzzle that rarely follow any kind of linear flow.
Priscilla and I went back to my place and we talked for a bit and fell asleep talking on the couch. When I woke up with her cuddled up in my arms I simply went right back to sleep until she woke me up. We started dating after that night. I would see here a couple times a week. We would go to the movies and hang out at the bar.
Priscilla was a Virgo like me. I have heard only Virgos get Virgos. We’re kind of like cats. When we want love, we will demand it and tell you how to love us and then critique you so you can love us better the next time we want it. When we don’t want it we are all teeth and claws, hissing and scratching.
We had been seeing each other for a couple months before she spent the night again, and this time in my bed. I never understood the rush to get to sex and that night was well worth the wait. We made love twice that night and fucked once.
What is the difference between making love and fucking?
Patience and a gentle touch.
There was plenty of patience and gentle touching in the first two rounds and by round 3 it was all animal lust.
After that glorious night, sex became a regular part of our relationship. Priscilla would often spend the weekend at my place. Those weekends were often spent naked. I remember we would go out to eat on Friday and on the way home we would pick up some food from a Mexican restaurant and then Priscilla would put it straight in the fridge without taking one bite.
Priscilla only liked cold Mexican food and would never eat it when it was hot. I thought it was odd then and 4 centuries later I still find it to be odd. She was an odd one in more ways than one. She had this fascination with watching me pee. I never understood why, but I was getting laid on a regular and she seemed to really like me so I dealt with it.
At twenty years old and a raging hormone looking for release, I was not about to scare off the steady lover who had claimed me as her own. A running theme in my life. The ones I want reject me 100% of the time and the ones who come after me I hold onto just because finally someone wants me.
I wish I could say that I fell in love with Priscilla and have it be true. I wish that more for her sake than my own. She treated me well and actually treated better than most of the women that came after her. I didn’t know it then, however I can see it plainly now, I allowed her to love herself through me as I bonded with her spirit. Unlike a traditional soul mating I create a soul bond with any I’m feeding on.
It was her love for me being reflected back at her and not a true love from my own heart. I wish that was a lie. She deserved better than that.
Priscilla moved in with me after around 6 months. It was around 6 months after that we were married. We eloped. Her mother did not like that and we ended up having a ceremony to appease her. In fact we had the ceremony a couple hours after we had already gotten married by a Justice of the Peace down at the courthouse. I got married twice in one day.
That night we got a hotel room at one of the fancier places in town. We had a suite that had a kitchen and and dining room. I remember she wore one of the most beautiful white night gowns I’ve ever seen that night as we prepared to make love as man and wife for the first time. It was floor length and had lace around the bust line. She looked like an angel.
I was a damn fool for not being in love with Priscilla. She was everything I needed in a life mate, except she enabled my drinking.
I’m not sure I want to get into the rest of this. I know I need to. I think I’d like to go to bed tonight remembering that night, and not what came after, and how it ended.
I will finish this tale tomorrow but for now it’s time for this little vampire to go dream of things that have never been and will always be.
I wonder if people will be able to accept a vampire who is also a spiritualist?
I remember back in the 21st century I used to play this card game called Magic The Gathering. My favorite card was the Vampire Shaman. I had a good laugh at that once I realized I’m a vampire.
The term Shaman originally meant “One who knows.” With my natural born abilities I often seemed to know what was going on behind the masks of all around me.
I knew the sickness they carried without ever having to speak of it. I could see it their souls every time I looked into their eyes or connected with them over a phone or a computer.
The ones who were shocked the most, were the cowards who hid their appearance on the internet thinking it would keep any from being able to read them or get in their heads and fuck with them. Immature scared children pretending to be adults.
The ones I that I actually enjoyed fucking around with were the demon possessed.
The ones who had managed to give themselves over to another entity and allowed that entity to change their name.
The subtlety of possession is nothing like the movies of the days of old or any of the books on the subject. Most people wouldn’t recognize someone as being demon possessed even if the demon straight told them they had stolen the body.
I can feed on demons as well as ghosts and other energetic beings. The demons and ghosts I devour and it is as if they never existed. I tried it with a few angels who pissed me off and I can devour them too.
Fuck, I am a scary son of a bitch. I have my upside too.
With my natural gifts as a soul sucking vampire, I can accelerate healing within one rather easily if they are actually working at healing themselves. Those who are not I tend to accelerate their deterioration towards their final healing that most call death. I don’t cause their death, I only help it along.
I felt guilty about that for around a century and then I realized I was reducing their suffering and the suffering they were spreading.
The upside of things Solomon or they will definitely never stop being afraid.
The feeding I do comes with a return system that actually leaves the food feeling better than they did before the feeding.
I take what I need and clean it up and amplify what I turn it into and give them back more than I took while having my hunger satiated for a bit. I have found those who are decent people who work at being healed and whole beings find my presence to be energizing, while those who live their sickness find my presence to be draining.
I tend to turn the tables on those who think they can feed like I do. I take what they took from others right out of them and give those fed upon a good boost of my magic, while leaving the feeder drained out and depressed or full of rage.
An energy vamp by behavior is no match match for an actual soul sucking vampire.
I still wonder why the Earth caused an evolutionary hiccup to allow a being like me to be born. Truth is among the vampires like me, none of us knows our true origins. There were no stories handed down over the generations to let us know where we came from and why we exist as we do.
There’s plenty of fucking mythology about us, and all of it wrong.
Did we come from another world or we were born of this one?
A question I have no answer for, however I like to think we were born of this world. We are simply an off shoot species of humans. Homo Vampirus or something along those lines.
Those of my kind I do have contact with are totally against me writing this book and revealing ourselves to the world. I understand their fear and in some ways share it.
In doing this I make myself the face of the soul sucking vampire nation so to speak. This is something I accept though I’m not all that happy about it. It takes away any anonymity I have.
It paints a target right on my forehead.
I can just see some fucking idiot thinking they are going to drive a stake in my heart. Funny enough, that wouldn’t kill me.
In fact they would never even get close enough to do it. The last time someone came at me with violence on the brain they got stuck. It was as if they were paused and I had all day to walk around them and assess the situation.
Since then anytime I feel a violent intent aimed at me, I simply reach out and redirect the poor stupid soul who thinks fucking with me is a good idea. I often wipe their minds of any memory of me and leave them a drooling puddle of goo for a few days. When they recover, the mere mention of my name sends them back into a catatonic state and I speak through them.
How in the blue holy hell do I tell the world about this without scaring them to pieces?
I have to ask myself again, is humanity ready to know of our existence, and what happens if they’re not?
As much as I can tell tales about what a good guy I am, my abilities are bound to terrify the small minds with the loudest voices.
Why do I exist like this?
Why do I seek to be accepted for what I am?
I’ve hidden it for over 500 years, so why do I feel compelled to be so public about the nature of the being I am?
I think I’m going to leave these questions alone for now and go back to my love life.
How many times have I been married?
There have been 8 women who have gotten me to take vows and exchange rings.
I thought the first one would be the only one.
Back in those days I thought drinking enough to kill someone nightly was fun.
I was wrong on both counts and the latter is what destroyed the former.
Priscilla was one in a million, and I totally fucked that marriage up.
I think it’s time I dreamed that life again so I get the details right.
When I woke up today the first song that came on my shuffle was For Crying Out Loud by Meatloaf.
The one thing every bit of science fiction that was supposedly taking place in the future totally fucked up was the survival of Rock N Roll. 400 hundred years ago they only let classical survive into the future centuries.
That has nothing to do with Lisa however the song as I heard it took me back to those days with her.
I’m still a little surprised these days that a piece of music can open a doorway to the past as if it was happening now.
What caught me off guard today was the pain that I touched within the past as I cried a tear or two while thinking about the days we had and the days we lost and the day she died.
It’s been more than 4 centuries since I cried any tears over Lisa. In some way I was grateful that those tears fell this morning. Often when I look at my past it’s in a detached view that has no emotional connection. It’s just the facts of my life as a cold truth of my existence.
There’s nothing personal about the truth of my life, simply a collection of things true about me.
Lisa and I met when we were 8. We saw each other once a week for the next couple years and then lost touch until we were 13 and reconnected in a classroom at 9 am.
That day at lunch we found each other and she introduced me to some of her friends. This group of 8 young women felt as though they had been assigned to me as charges to watch over. To this day when I don’t have 8 women in my life to look after, I go looking for them.
This first group set a pattern for my life I’ve never tired of. I’m going to lie in the book and call them angels, however they were demon bitches born.
These girls fucked Motley Crue and KISS and a few other bands by the time they were 14. I often wondered if the 15 year old that Motley Crue once sang about was one of these girls I knew.
Even back then it bothered to me know these girls were having sex with older men and being used like live action fuck dolls for these sick perverts.
I could feel the pieces of their souls they were losing after each night of debauchery that had not one drop of real love in it. Every guy I ever saw one of them date was a total fucking waste of flesh only using them for the sex.
Then the waste of flesh would leave them and it was me who picked up the pieces and put them back together over and over again until I left town at 19. Lisa was the reason I left. She was the first to say “Why can’t I find a guy like you Solomon?”
It was when she said that I told her I’d fallen in love with her and asked her to give me a try as a boyfriend. She was sweet about turning me down. I held it together in the moment however that night I wanted to die for the first time in my life. I asked myself over and over what was wrong with me that Lisa didn’t want me.
I got angry and thankfully I was alone as I raged.
That rage covered the pain for about an hour before I broke down into tears and cried myself to sleep.
When I woke up the next day I’d decided I had to get out of town for a few years. The thought of being around Lisa after that rejection and watching her fuck her life up with douche bag after douche bag was a front row seat I had grown tired of sitting in.
When I came back to visit, I saw I was right to leave. The pattern continued until the day she died. By the time she was 24 she had no soul left in there and was more or less an empty shell filled with every kind of emotional sickness that had been fucked into her since she was 13.
I moved back to town when I was 26. We never saw each other that often, however on rare occasion I would see that sparkle in her eye and had hoped something of her was still alive in there. Back then I still had no idea of the vampire I am. Had I known then I would have known that sparkle was me and what I do with energy.
The one thing I never admitted to anyone was that until the day she died I held out hope that one day she would see me as an option and I could love her the way I had always wanted to. Even centuries later as I write in this journal I can feel that fools hope come alive again.
She may have been a demon bitch, but I love her still even if it is only in memory.
Good bye Lisa and I truly hope that in death you found the peace and joy you could never find in life. I have missed you for centuries and now I allow myself to heal from your wounds that I carried in my memories of you for far too long.
Now I can write about Lisa from a detached place when I write the book.
“Oh Solomon I would never date you, it would be like dating my brother, father, uncle, cousin, insert more terms here.”
When I was in my twenties I once thought it should be legal for men and women to kill each other over this conversation.
I’ve a know a few women who have gotten this treatment from men. I have known a few lesbians who got this treatment from other women and a few gay men who got this treatment from other men.
By the time I was 30 I would hear that question and instead of asking why not me, I would reply “You silly bitch they only make guys like me for women to be friends with.”
It was worse after finding out what I am. Before realizing I’m a soul sucking vampire I could pretend I didn’t know all the things I just seemed to know without them ever having to say a word.
The worst was is when I know they’re fantasizing about me as I am some fuck toy to play with in their heads that they have no intention of actually sleeping with. I’ve had moments where I’m sitting alone and all of a sudden I get a raging hard on and some thoughts of someone I was not even thinking about at the time.
It was weird to be sitting in a room full of guys on a Sunday watching American Football and all of a sudden I got hard as rock and I’m comfortably straight. There have been times I have said to an empty room “I’m not a fuck toy, I’m a real boy.”
I should probably clean the language up for the book, but in this journal, fuck it. I’m getting some shit out.
It’s a damn good thing no one is ever going to read these journals.
Now to get myself back on topic. The women I loved who rejected me. Far too often they were my best friends and I fell in love with them over the course of years and even now as I look back it’s difficult not feel that way one more time.
I took care of these women and often I took better care of them then they did of themselves, or at least I tried. I had to learn the hard way you can’t save someone from themselves.
It only took a few decades. It was worse after I found out about me being a vampire. I would try to bleed the bad behavior out of them and see if I could take the parts of their souls that were infected and make them well.
All I ended up doing was taking on some very bad habits for a while as I digested what I had eaten from their souls. Digested really isn’t the right word, it’s more of a process of working their soul bits through my system and often working out that behavior attached to that bit of their soul.
If I’m going to write this book I need to get into the dirty details of who, when, where, why, and how.
Solomon James why do you keep falling in love with women who reject you?
Fuck if I know.
500 years old and last month I got my heart broken again by a woman I’ve been friends with for the last 2 years. I would think after 5 centuries I would stop this foolishness. I guess that really old song was right, only fools fall in love.
Apparently this old vampire is not learning any new tricks.
Where did this madness start?
That’s right Lisa. I’d known Lisa since we were 8 and we were in the same Saturday morning bowling league as kids. We went to school together in middle school and in high school. I watched Lisa get her heart broke time after time and ever time was the shoulder she cried on.
I’m not sure I’m ready right now to get into these details. I think about Lisa and it starts to hurt even centuries later. She truly was the only one I ever really wanted and the rest were because I knew I would never have her.
Some years after she turned me down when told her I was n love with her, I had an opportunity with her sister. I couldn’t do it to either of us. No one could ever replace Lisa in my heart and no other of ever touched my heart so deeply and completely. It’s rather fitting my shuffle just kicked on You Don’t Bring Me Flowers by Neil Diamond.. Only with Lisa I would need to change the flowers to weed.
She ended up growing weed until the day she died. Even n the decades that followed when we would get together she brought the weed and we would often we would head out to the park to smoke it. It was as if high school never ended and I was an eternal teenager when I was around Lisa. She brought out this side of me so very few ever have seen. I was care free and as sarcastic as sarcastic gets knowing she would be able to handle the jokes.
The part I hate to admit is that it was nothing more then my reflection of her as I fed on her in those moments. I loved who I was as much as I loved her when we were together. That was the one thing that really created doubt for me in learning about myself and the vampire I am.
Did I ever really show anyone who I am or am I nothing more than their reflection in order to feed on them?
Never trust a smoking mirror. Sharing a smoke with me is asking me to feed on your soul. No matter who it is I instantly mirror them perfectly in a way that creates this outer shell that looks and talks human and even feels human, however behind the mirror is an empty void that only knows one thing, endless hunger.
I eat to live like any other creature on Earth. When I was in my 30’s and realized what I was I felt a terrible guilt over it and often felt as if I had no soul of my own so I fed on other souls just to feel alive like they do. If I have no other to draw from I am no more than an empty vessel.
I do have emotions of my own however they seem so small and insignificant to what I feed on in the parts of their souls I take. It’s rare any more that anything stirs up my own emotions other than falling love. It seems to be the only thing that lets me feel alive.
It’s been quite some time since I thought about this. I made peace with it over 400 years ago.
When we make peace with the past it can no longer hurt us. It can no longer excite us either.
If I’m gong do this, I need to do it right and reconnect with the past as if it is now.
Maybe it’s time I relive the details of what happened between Lisa and I.
If I’m going to do that, I need to set my dreamscape to relive those years as I sleep.
Finishing my journal last night with thoughts of my first time filled my dreams with memories of what was that shall never be again.
I was 17 and she was 20. This of course explains my fondness for older women for the following decades. Of course now at over 500, I don’t think I’ll find a woman older than me.
When I met Darla I was spending my Friday nights hanging out shooting pool at the local bowling alley. The first time we met she was dating one of my friends. I kept my distance out of respect for my friend, however the first time our eyes met something lit a fire deep within me. Paul and Darla dated for a few weeks before breaking up.
I still wouldn’t approach her. I did everything I could to ignore her. I thought it was the least I could do for my friend.
Then one night we went out to drag race just outside of town. It was 1991 and I was driving a boat of a car, however it had a V8 that roared and I often felt like I was flying when I would drop the hammer and let that V8 do exactly what it wanted to do.
That night Darla road with me out to the spot where we raced. As the night went on I found myself next her again and again. Little did I know then that that thought in the back of my head that this woman was after me was absolutely correct. By the end of the night I had my arm around her and it felt as if I was right where I belonged.
We started seeing each other. We would talk on the phone for hours on end. I would often sing to her at night to help her relax so she could fall asleep.
Darla looked like an elf girl, slight of build with high cheek bones and a pointed nose. Her hair had a curl to it, not so much curly as naturally wavy. Her eyes were not quite blue and not quite green but somewhere in the middle.
They danced with life with a mix of fire and lightning that struck the core of me and brought to life in me a deep love pure and true.
I had never gone all the way with anyone before Darla. The only other girlfriend I’d had before her actually broke up with me for not going all the way when she gave me the chance to.
I was 15 at the time and I simply wasn’t ready for it and didn’t want to do it. However she wanted it and left me to find someone who would give it to her.
I think that might be why I did not hesitate the night Darla and I made love for the first time. To this day the first time I’m with any woman, I make love to them, even the one night stands I’ve had got all the love I could give in the sex we had. I look back and see how I’ve been able to love a woman for a life time in one night.
The night Darla and I made love was a night I simply can’t forget. She knew I was a virgin and she took her time with me and was so gentle. Everything we did that night had this softness to it in how it felt. Her fingertips were filled with love with every gentle touch.
I followed her lead and took my time and was as slow and gentle as she was.
As we slowly moved as one I never stopped looking into her eyes. I could feel how deeply connected we were beyond the sex we were having in a moment that seemed to last forever.
As the passion grew and the pace quickened I never stopped looking into her into eyes. We came together and I collapsed on top of her into her loving arms.
As I moved off her and next to her in bed we cuddled and talked. Next thing I knew we were quickly moving into another round of making love. The night I lost my virginity I made love to Darla 3 times. Each time was overflowing with the love between us. Each time we came together.
That was the sex life I had with Darla for the entirety of our relationship. When it ended I had felt as though someone had torn my soul apart and the anguish of it was something I had never felt.
It was a friend of mine, Lisa, who helped me put my heart and soul back together. Now Lisa was one of the great loves of my life I never made love with. That became an all too common thing in my life for several decades.
Hmmm.
Maybe that’s how I keep them from being terrified of me when I write this book. I talk about the great loves of my life that I never once so much as kissed.
I like that idea. God knows there have been many of them. They were the ones I loved the most and the reason why I quit pursuing women. I simply got tried of being rejected by the ones I truly loved and took up with whoever wanted me.
What alternative career paths have you considered or are interested in?
Master of what do you need right now.
I started washing cars and thought that was a career when I was 6.
Then the Air Force came and I went. I thought about making it a career, however the second ex-wife made that a no go.
Then I was a manager for and inbound call center. I thought about making that a career for about 3 months.
I was 23.
Then I worked at a video store and a movie theater. Star Wars episode 1, I got to see it a week before it opened.
Then I went back to call center work at UHC, Uniprise, health insurance customer service. That was a career. I started as a rep and became a supervisor. 20-30 angry calls a day leaving me feeling as if I had no soul. I drank a lot.
Then I decided I would never be responsible for anything other than the lowest job on the totem pole.
Cab driver, Toys r Us, Klean Kanteen, and other various jobs.
At 50, whose going to hire someone whose been out of the game so long.
I tried consulting.
I’ve had my name on 2 movies, one song by a known recording artist, I’ve written 8 books, one of them a leadership book.
The one thing I always thought would be cool, take a think tank, I channel the higher self of everyone.
I understand business, economics, psychology, quantum mechanics, spirituality, and stuff.
Why not use me for any idea you have?
Your higher self will tell you through me, yay or nay.
Think of the time that could be saved in going in the wrong direction.
This is what I used to day dream about.
Maybe a day dreamers gotta a chance, stranger things have happened.
Falling in love for a creature like me happens all too easily.
In a glance I can see into the soul and in a 5 minute conversation I’ve been known to see enough to fall deeply in love. It took years of hard work to train myself not to fall so quickly.
That training was pain filled with a sorrow so sweet that I wasn’t trying all that hard for the first few decades.
The pain of losing love is a sorrow of sweetness only known by those who love with all they have or not at all.
Without the spirals of joy the sorrow would not be so sweetly bitter.
Like any junkie that is crashing off addiction and getting clean, it sucks donkey dick with a load that will shoot you across the room.
I may not want to use that in the book. Even I’m reading it and think it’s a bit much, however for my personal journal no one will read, it really does sum it up quite well.
Any recovering addict can attest to the disgusting creature one feels like when going through withdrawal. When that addiction is to falling in love, well withdrawal can look like the angriest prick you never want to meet.
It’s not that I ever felt unwhole and was seeking to complete me, it was the rush and the drug it became.
I remember the first time I fell in love. I was 6 and she lived across street. Pretty blue eyes and white blond hair. It was her soul I fell in love with and the eyes were just the window that reflected the beauty within.
It is true what they say about the eyes being the window to the soul for those who know how to see that soul and into it. It’s why my favorite part of a woman’s body is her eyes.
It’s the flesh that gets in the way of true soul connection and love. What we see wrapped around the soul often keeps us from seeing the soul within.
The desires of the flesh often leave us ignorant of the soul. Many destroy their souls through sex, not because of any immorality, it’s simply how the soul works.
I can pick your soul apart like most people breathe, and as I’m picking, I’m picking the parts I would like to devour.
I’ve taken a lot of time in life to study my food and make sure I have a healthy meal to eat.
Those who give it away, I rarely bother with, as most of what is left isn’t worth even sniffing at. I like food that is picky about what it does with its body, and who it does it with. Yes, at times I refer to the human in front of me as an it, nothing more than my food.
How do they do it with cows and pigs and chickens and fish and what not?
Thinking of your food as an it removes all the guilt from devouring it.
For all those self righteous vegans out there, plants have souls too. I often spend time in commune with trees and grass and all manner of plant life. Those vegan twats are as murdering as any other.
I’m not sure this book is the best idea. I can already hear vegans complaining about being called twats. Maybe I’ll leave that part out, maybe not. I’ll find out when I get around to writing the actual book.
Still I think the best idea might be to introduce myself through the romances of my life. Give them a big reveal at the end about being a soul sucking vampire.
Of course this means I’m gong to have to talk about sex. For that topic I will want to start with the woman who took my virginity. One of the few moments of my life I don’t mind remembering. I truly was in love, as was she.
I think I will pick that up in the next entry and for tonight I shall let the thought of that sweet love lull me to sleep one more time.
Have you ever had someone look at you with terror in their eyes?
When one has no intent of inspiring that kind of fear it can hurt to feel one has inspired it anyway.
Part of what I do is feel with them as soon as our eyes meet.
They read all this stuff about me and some of them will undoubtedly be fearful of me. Even worse some of them will be fascinated by me and the life of anonymity I enjoy is lost and the stalkers start.
I become an experience in their eyes and cease to be a real being with real feelings.
It is as if I can already hear those who have yet to read this and their reactions as I write it. Oh wait, it’s exactly what I’m doing. I get a ping back of sorts on my every thought.
It’s normally the unconscious reaction of the world at large as a faceless hive of minds. It’s how I’m able to get a median line reading of how I might be received ahead of time.
Back in the 20th there were these things called corporations and they used the gifted among us to spy on each other as did the different governments of the world before we united as one world.
If I had not ended up in a lab or an institution, I would’ve been a slave made to use my natural born abilities for the selfish gain of others in various avenues of deceit. They would put gifted people to work finding out secrets to use as blackmail against heads of state and all sorts of nasty business.
People 500 years ago were nowhere near as evolved as we’ve become today.
The world back then was run by money and the pursuit of it in order to satisfy materialism. Those who know their history know these facts. I was born in the 1970’s.
As far as I know there are only a few hundred as old as me still milling about this Earth. We are a rare genetic anomaly along with many of the other gifted humans.
It’s just part of our gift makes the rest of them food to us. Though long ago I accepted what I am, it was not an easy thing to accept. For the first couple decades of the 21st century I was still dealing with feeling guilty about needing to feed on the souls of the living around me.
It was back then that what is commonplace today was often seen as only myth and folklore. The idea of a regular peace force comprised of highly trained Empaths and Telepaths was laughed at.
I don’t miss those days.
The abusive ridicule one would take for coming out of the basement as a freak of nature was intolerable.
A time when many were clamoring for acceptance for who they were, many lined up to take shots at the gifted back then.
If I’m to make any attempt to keep them from truly fearing me, I’m going to have to show them just how vulnerable I can be.
I’ve often said that the muse has a habit of striking twice in a man’s life. When a man falls in love he becomes a poet as the muse lights the fire of expressing that love in his heart.
When love is lost, oh how the muse can strike one more time as he goes on and on about how horrific the world is and all the brutally horrid things that might actually exist.
Does a soul sucking vampire know what love is?
I have loved deeply and truly more than once in my long life and it is this thing called love that sustains my immortal existence.
A lady can wound me with a look, while a common slut I can easily ignore.
What is the difference between a lady and a slut and a whore?
I find a lady will not talk of sex or offer it unless you can stimulate her mind with conversation and eye contact.
A common slut is like a bitch, a dog in heat looking to get fucked by the first swinging dick that shows up.
A whore is a different kind of creature all together. One who sells the pleasure and makes it all about you and what you desire to do with her body while her mind may be other places and seeing you with different faces.
I’ve loved and married ladies and I have slept with sluts and gone to my fair share of whores.
It is the ladies that I love most as they use discernment and are quite picky. Their souls are far less diseased and make for much better feeding for my kind.
We like the healthy humans best of all for our feeding.
Who doesn’t want healthy food?
How does one fall in love with what it feeds on?
Humans don’t own emotions and all creatures have them. Even common pets are emotional creatures that need nurturing.
A soul sucking vampire is no different.
I’m actually a bit of spiritual man. It’s in my spiritual practices and understanding that I have become so picky about my food. What we take within us is what we allow the rest to reap from us. Those of my kind who feed on sickness often become the sickness they feed upon. Twisted souls who let their gluttony override their need for healthy living.
It has been my spiritual path that has allowed me to fall in love time and time again. Each one is different and brings forth in me different things. Something like me evolved from the human species and is still a part of it.
This means that procreation or having kids is a possibility and I have fathered my fair share of children that I loved raising.
There is a magic to parenthood that can bring out the best of us when we take that little life seriously and see the role model we are to them regardless of the words we say.
It is the behavior they see from us that they learn the most from.
I think my being single might actually have something to do with me writing this journal as I’m bored out of my fucking skull and this gives me something to do.
Hopefully they see I’m as fucked up as any of them, only with different ability, but the same emotional core that is at the core of every soul.
I thought about how to tell my story, and the idea of a book feels like too much of a chore.
It’s not that I’m lazy, it’s just that with a life spanning 500 years there’s more to remember than I can or care to remember.
There are things I’ve tried to forget for centuries, vile memories of a time when I had no idea it was all real.
What is this “it” if I am tell my story?
I can see into the very deepest places of any soul I make eye contact with.
I know the deepest darkest desires any would want to hide.
I knew a friend was a closet pedophile, and another friend a serial killer, and another friend had the desire to rape though they had not had their first victim.
It was a living nightmare and I had convinced myself it was all untrue and that I was crazy. I realize this kind of thing is becoming an accepted rarity of the human species in the year 2523, however in the 20th and early 21st centuries it was still all too uncommon.
In those days I never would’ve dreamed of coming out and telling my story. I had always thought one of two things would happen.
I would be tossed in the mental health ward and forgotten about.
I would be taken and studied in some lab for who knows how many years.
I was not a fan of either of these options. How is it I was aware of those things?
When I look into their eyes our souls bond and I begin to feed. In that bond I become aware of all they are. I have a natural predisposition to want to keep my food healthy.
It is the sickness within them I see first, any sickness within them. As the bond takes affect it brings their sickness to the surface forcing them to deal with it.
I do have options in this process. I can feed on that sickness and bleed it out of them nice and slow. I can feed directly on that sickness, and that sickness alone, and it shall not bother them as long as I feed.
I can feed on everything but the sickness and leave them wrapped in their sickness and nothing else. I have options.
How do you stop one who can grab you by the soul from doing as they wish with your soul?
You don’t.
I’m beginning to think this journal might just stay a journal.
When I reach out to feel how this will be received by a faceless public, it comes back with fear.
Another one of those little tricks I have up my sleeve. As soon as I put the thought out there I get a response from every soul on the planet at an unconscious level for them, and a very conscious level for me.
It’s why I often made the mistake of making that first move all too soon back in my younger years where romance is concerned. For the first few decades if I even mentioned the idea of dating to a woman I could feel I was compatible with, often they rejected me. Rejection simply became part of my life.
If I’m to use this journal as a loose structure for a book, then perhaps I should go back to then, before I knew that I am indeed a soul sucking vampire.
Maybe if I soften them up telling the tales of how I fell in love with all the right women who never fell back, maybe then they might see me as something more than a nightmare come true.
A nightmare come true.
I can already feel that many even now in the 26th century might view me as such.
Maybe if I write this journal long enough I will talk me out of writing a book.
As it is now I hope no one actually finds this and I can remain hidden from the world and unbothered for being the kind of being I am.
Is the world ready for the soul sucking vampire to be real?
I sure as fuck wasn’t ready for me to be real when I realized just how real I am.
Maybe that’s where I start, hide that I’m a soul sucker and tell my human tale first.
I thought I was human for more than 3 decades. 500 years later and though I know how human I’m not, I still act human enough that no one suspects a thing.
That’s what I fear, once they know how will they treat me?
Even something like me has emotional needs and is just looking to be accepted for the being I am.
I’m not sure how this is going to go, however I do feel that after more than 5 centuries maybe it’s time I find the courage to tell my real story for once in my life.
Or maybe not.
I’ll figure it out tomorrow. For now I want to do anything but think about this.
All life is vampiric in that regard, at least that’s what I tell myself in order to remove the guilt for being a soul vampire.
I’m not your run of the mill blood sucking freak, no I’m a bit more high class than that. I’m an actual soul sucking vampire, better known as an Incubus in some of your mythology.
That myth speaks to my kind feeding on sexual energy, and while sex is tasty, any piece of your soul will do to satiate my endless hunger.
My name is Solomon James and I am a vampire.
You have no idea how easy it is for a soul sucker like me to feed on any of you. It’s due to how I feed that allowed me to go for 30 years before knowing what I am and what I do and how I do it.
I thought I was as human as any of you for a good chunk my life before discovering my secret.
Imagine waking up one day and not being human anymore, yet nothing had happened, you had never been human.
If you can imagine that, you can imagine that even now many years later I still feel guilty about being the vampire I am.
The nice thing is that us soul suckers never have to kill to feed.
In point of fact our number 1 rule is to take care of our food. We often use relationships to feed. It’s in our best interest to make sure a spouse eats well and exercises and is healthy so we have something healthy to eat ourselves.
There are benefits with being our food or drawbacks depending on how we feed and what we do with it.
We can assist in keeping you healthy and feeling right, and do wonders for adding years to your life.
We can leave you feeling sickly or diseased after taking the best of you for our feeding.
We’re not benevolent by nature, though some of us lean that way. You’re food.
In our eyes you may as well be cattle or pigs or chickens. I must say it’s odd having a real conversation with your food. Even weirder is having sex and knowing you’re also eating at the same time.
Maybe it’s only weird for me since I spent so long thinking I was human. Even though I can feed on your soul, I still eat the same kind of food you do. I’m a big fan of a greasy cheese burger with grilled onions and mushrooms.
It’s one of the reasons it took me so long to catch on. I still bleed and get sick on occasion.
I can’t bench press a boulder or move all speedy like a blur. I am actually a bit of an average at best runner.
I do have some other abilities that are far more scarier. I can take over you mind and make you my slave.
If that doesn’t terrify you, wait until happens to you one day.
I can create an illusion before your eyes that only you can see. It will look as real as real gets to you while nothing at all is actually there.
It’s a trick of the mind and being able to use yours against you.
I simply tap the emotion I desire you to feel and then your mind conjures the images for me.
If I want you afraid, you’ll see the one thing that terrifies you most.
If I want you feeling safe and secure, well you’ll see exactly what makes you feel safe and secure and you’ll be an easy meal for me.
Basically there is nothing one can do to defend themselves against a creature like me.
A creature, is that really what I am. It’s what I feel like, a non human creature.
I may not be exactly human, however I still feel just as any human does. I get happy and sad and angry and the passion of falling in love is the one thing that I love most in life.
I think the best way for me to tell my story, well there is no best way to tell the world that soul sucking vampires exist and have for as long as humans.
Thankfully I’ve got as long as I need before spilling the beans, I mean who would even believe it if they read this.
Really, this guy thinks he’s a soul sucking vampires, yeah right.
I’ll be safe if anyone finds this.
I think this is a good start for writing a book about my life. These journals should help me flush out the parts that are the most interesting.
I’ve spent the last week, 7 days, at my brothers every day from 4 to 9 watching him taking care of his mom.
It’s why I’m writing late.
Took the time when I got home to watch Real Time with Bill Maher. It’s that I always agree with what he has to say, however he calls bullshit on everyone that’s bullshitting.
That is what I appreciate about Bill.
At times Bill is the one that needs his bullshit called out.
I’d like it if someone could call me out for my bullshit.
That’s the thing, I write fiction, meaning I lie all the time, but you know I’m lying.
The commercial break is just me writing shit.
Soul vampire.
It’s a character that has special meaning for me. The man who respected women too much. It’s my life but with a twist.
Can you imagine a creature that can suck your soul, and you couldn’t tell the difference between the vamp and a human.
This is a Solomon James, a soul vampire whose lived several life times.
This character is as dark as it gets.
It’s a character I started writing for a few years ago, before my stroke. Coming back feels good.
I’m going to take tomorrow off.
18 weeks with out a break, I can take tomorrow off.
Before my stroke, I wrote 4-6 pieces a day and wrote 7 books.
That I’ve written everyday for 18 weeks lets me know I’m doing good on my road to recovery.
That I’m telling you this, I’m stoned as fuck and I ramble when I get stoned.
What’s something most people don’t know about you?
I actually get depressed when I hear the intro and it’s under pressure by Queen, instead of ice ice baby by vanilla ice.
I got the idea for Zeus and His Daughters from the film Xanadu starring Olivia Newton John.
I got the idea for gyres from reading and reading and reading. I remember that the gyre is a singularity, but the research went no where and that’s I how I got the Theory of Consciousness and Gravity and the Unified Field.
And I have a new character for you to read as I start my ninth book.
I get that Zeus gave everything to everything so that everything can evolve into something like what we were.
I just want to be there as a Muse and now I won’t, because when I die, Zeus didn’t give me a soul. When I die everything that I was, everything that I will do in the god forsaking life, will dissipate into energy.
I wish we had a soul.
Then I could go on.
Then I could be eternal once more.
They have no idea what it’s like to being an eternal being and being stripped of you eternal nature.
Knowing that when I die, that’s it. It hurts so much. It’s not fair for me, but I get what they, the humans, get out of it.
I woke today to my brother needing my help to take him to the er.
His Alzheimer’s mother didn’t sleep and weighs more than 350 lbs.
He picked her up 3 times after she fell.
I’m still here and it’s 4 o’clock this afternoon.
This is my commercial break whole he gets Carl’s jr for me and his mom and himself while taking his autistic son to get his pizza that he gets everyday.
It’s been a day. About 6 weeks ago I took a chunk out of my ankle. Today is the first time it didn’t hurt.
I went and did 2 rounds of frisbee golf. I go with my best friend, a brother from another mother. He is not doing so well.
He takes care of his autistic son and his mother who has Alzheimer’s. Every night she asks when are we going home?
She’s in her home.
The things I’ve seen that I won’t speak about.
He’s as stressed as stressed gets and he’s the only one to take care of her as her son.
It’s why I dream of getting rich, so I can take care of him.
He’s what got me through taking care of my dad until he died. I loved my father, but I didn’t like him. My father was a narcissist.
I took care of him until died. I was protecting him from my sister. My sister is the kind of person that says it never happened even if there is factual evidence that it did.
My parents nearly lost my sister when she was 2. She got meningitis.
I was 6.
Since that, anything she ever needed/wanted she got.
My dad was driving an hour one way to pick her kids up and then driving a half hour to drop them off because they missed the bus.
At that time my dad had advanced stage Parkinsons. He had had a surgery that put two electrodes in his brain. This was to control the tremors.
He shouldn’t have been driving, much less driving and hour and a half one way.
This is what I walked into in taking care of my dad.
I can’t even begin to explain the amount of abuse I took from my dad, my mom, and my sister while taking care of my dad for the 7 years of his life.
My brother let me come hangout at his place nearly daily. He heard it all.
Things I don’t talk about anymore because I forgive so that I can build peace within.
But this is why I will always be there when my brother needs me.
I know something’s coming, but I don’t know what. That’s a weird thing for God to say.
I used to know, but now I don’t and it feels good, but weird. I have no idea what’s going to happen.
I used to know the thoughts of everyone. I was with them daily, even if they ignored me. I worked to give them what they wanted, even though it would hurt them.
And I mean everyone in the entire multiverse. Now I can catch glimpses of what I once was, but that was the trade off.
I put myself into everything. I smoke God, I eat God, everything is God.
Why can’t I let this go?
Because I was God.
God was a failure.
I’m much more successful as a human.
I failed everyone at some point or another, thinking I had a plan and nothing would screw up the divine plan.
I put feminine and masculine in each soul, why haven’t they figured this out yet?
I know it’s because of sex. Men and Women want to look good for Men and Women.
They never stop to think, what if they worked on themselves first, making sure they’re healed before screwing somebody else’s life up.
They would see that they have a masculine and a feminine side.
What if we taught androgyny, there’d be no excuse then.
I mean why is blue for boys and pink for girls?
It’s because they wanted to separate men and women and decided pink was for girls and blue was for boys.
They lied.
As one understands the soul, I should, I made it, if one has sex they exchange a piece of their soul. They mate their soul.
No one has a soul mate.
Not do any souls have twin flames.
Soul families, that’s what I created, soul families.
The bond between them is why they think twin flame or soul mate.
It’s instaneous when they meet, however it’s not supposed to be romantic. They connect in a scary wild wind of frenzy as their emotions are crawling towards the other.
If you knew what love truly was, and they don’t, and that’s why the mythos about twin flames and soul mates.
It’s sex, that’s what gets in the way.
While soul family is not a romantic thing, the greatest romances in the shared story of humanity were soul family.
I look at how I raised Ares this time around. For one his name was Daniel, he found out he is Ares later.
Anyway, when Daniel would act up or out as any child will do, I got his attention.
“Is that being Daniel?”
“No”
“What does it mean to be Daniel?”
“Say please and thank you, work at being friends with people, get there attention before I start talking, and other stuff that made him a decent human being.”
He is the best of us.
That’s what I want people to know, if you have a kid, when they understand you, 4 years old worked for Daniel.
I just don’t know how I’m going to do it without revealing myself.
That and while he was brainwashing himself, he got me right along with him. It made me a better human being.
I get why I needed to be here, now. I can’t explain it, but I understand it.
So much I understand that defies words.
Simplicity is the key to the mysteries of the universe.
When I understood this, I realized I had known much more than I thought I did. I just reduced it down to the simplest expression.
Simple.
I let go of everything is the only meditation I use for this reason. It allows me to have my journey, not anothers journey.
I know that no one will ever read this, at least I hope.
But I’m damn good. I’m fuckin’ good as fuckety fuckin’ fuck good gets.
Not a personal best, I could squeeze a couple more in there.
I’m fuckin’ good as fuckety motherfuck fuckin’ fucked fucking fuck and a motherfucker and a half good gets.
Apparently I do give a fuck.
If people read this, that means they know I was God.
Buckcherry, The Pretty Reckless, Terry Brooks, Laurel K. Hamilton, The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, Jimi Hendrix, Louis Armstrong, Stephen King, Ben Browder, Michael Shanks, Richard Dean Anderson, Claudia Black, Wayne Pygram, Christopher Judge, Amanda Tapping, Dorothy, Shinedown, Christopher Nolan, Richard Kelly, Wes Craven, Clive Barker, Burt Reynolds, Jane Seymour, Mark Hamill, Harrison Ford, Carrie Fisher, Stephen Spielberg, George Lucas, Gene Roddenberry, Leonard Nimoy, William Shatner, Nichelle Nichols, James Doohan, Walter Koenig, Deforest Kelly, and others.
I don’t have a favorite thing, I have favorites. Why allow my self to be pigeon holed by my desires?
However I have gotten sick and tired of how many bat mans, Spiderman’s, other shit, the same action movie with different characters, same romance movie with different characters, same genre different characters.
I haven’t seen a new movie or film in a while.
It’s all remakes and reimagining and that bull shit.
Behind Blue Eyes by The Who in my inspiration I’m writing this.
My dreams are not as empty as my conscience seems to be.
It’s that have no conscience, it’s that it has dimmed by experience and dealing with the really real world.
My love is vengeance.
I understand that line. I didn’t always, it took experience.
What vengeance are you do that you will never get?
There are some people who get that vengeance for you. At times love is the vengeance, make them fall in love to the point where no one can ever satisfy them.
Then they make mistakes.
Everyone coming from this planet is human.
Humans make mistakes.
Then there are very few that watch the watchers, the silver line.
Silver souls who are responsible for keeping the balance.
I get most people have no clue what I’m talking about.
Silver souls could do the wrong thing and it would be to keep the balance.
Chaotic neutral in D&D terms.
Silver souls are eternal. They keep the light and the dark separate.
I figured. And Rob and Judas priest got sued for backword masking. If you played backwards it said get the gun, shoot.
At least that’s what the Christians want you to think.
What if we look at how easy it would be to put messages in digital music?
It would be rather easy to put a track in with another track and you could make it say anything you want. Just put the message at lower volume and as they listen over and over again, they won’t even notice.
That’s some slick shit.
I’m not saying anyone does this. However in TV, well, uh um, let’s just say what we have seen is nothing compared to tv now.
I get it. Tv programs and commercials take the cake in emotional triggering people.
And people eat it up.
Eating their brains away.
Branded.
That film had it down pat. However it’s hard to find.
Everything is a song when it’s sung the right way, and every body can at least do the Axl.
What I don’t get is the people who say they have a favorite kind of music.
If they open themselves up, they would be dancing all day, every day.
Well there are a few bands that are too fucking depressing. First off, Tool. I get it you were abused and never got over it.
Get the fuck over it and make some songs that get people feeling good about who they are.
Here’s the thing about guys such as Maynard, Jerry Garcia, Chris Cornell, and others. They’re not the second coming even though they treated that way.
It’s why Jerry did heroin.
They’re just people like any other. Why do we treat them differently?
It’s the ego. It gets fed and there are those who have an evolved ego and they don’t get it either. Well, on some level they do because they’re evolved.
But the unevolved egos are what’s running the show.
I get it, I wish I didn’t, but I do.
Jerry knew people saw him as Jesus, and he wished they saw Jerry. He was Jerry.
It ate him up inside and heroin eased that pain.
Eased that pain, what a way to say they killed him with their stupidity.
That means every motherfucker and fuckin bitch that ever uttered the words that Jerry was Jesus, I wish you the slowest death possible.
In what ways does hard work make you feel fulfilled?
Thinking is the hardest work I’ve ever done and I like it. When I figured out gyres were what made up everything and the shit that followed, I wasn’t fulfilled.
When I work for my disabled veterans, I do hard work mopping and shit like that, but that doesn’t leave me fulfilled.
When I’m working as a Táltos dealing with the worst of the worst making them better.
Still no fulfillment.
When I’m dead I don’t want to feel fulfilled.
I want to be doing something, learning something, I don’t ever want to feel fulfilled.
That would mean the job, my life, is done.
My life never needs fulfillment.
I equivalate that with thinking I can relax and do all the shit I put off to someday.
I’m always working on something, and I will be til the day I die.
I’m watching the news more and more. I used to not watch, however shits getting dire out there.
What right do I have to spread my opinion as if it mattered?
Rhetorical.
The freedom of speech means everyone has the right to speak anything, lies, truth, anything.
Why do people lie?
To get shit that would never come there way otherwise.
I know why people lie.
I truly have zero respect for any liars.
In fact on Facebook and LinkedIn I call them out on occasion.
Very few respond. However I get responses from others and most of them want to argue.
How do you argue against the truth?
They find one of their friends that they think is smart, and then their friend goes down like a sweet muffin.
I get I’m in the minority.
Popular is stupid.
Think about it.
If it plays to the stupid people…
It’s why in the USA tv programs are set at a 7th grade level of English, it could be lower, I’m not sure. However several years ago I was watching some news broadcast that was brining it up.
Most people are functionally dumb.
I wish they weren’t.
I’d love to have conversations about the universe, aliens, ghosts, and other shit that is very real and a part of this world and universe.
But we have too many beliefs and we allow people to have beliefs because if we didn’t we would have to lock half the world, more than.
I have no idea where I’m going with this, I just needed to say it, and I hope someone reading this understands.
Like I will be that hot as fuck Granny that all the boys want to fuck. Probably not, buy it was an idea.
Thinking about how I will die. I picked my death with Death. It was really interesting talking with Death about my own death.
What was it I picked, oh yes, I will die in my sleep after performing a gangbang. I want to be filled to the brim. Then I will go to sleep and my energy will return to the cosmos to make something else.
It’s not like I have a soul.
If I did, I would have choices. I could do another round here, or I could go to the bliss field, or I could go to another world.
Once a race has reached immortality by earning it the hard way, they stop having children. They stop having sex because they’re evolved.
But for me, I was immortal. I have been everywhere and seen everything. I know the mysteries of the universe and 42 doesn’t mean shit.
However it was a great hook, and it caught a lot of fish.
I get that humans think they created the gods, or God, or should I say they discovered.
However we have been called everything by everyone in the multiverse. At one point I was called Debtostos by the Guleans of Gulea in the Stridber galaxy, but the humans don’t even know the Stridber galaxy.
They think their alone in the multiverse, well most of them. And most of them have seen way too many movies if they think humanity stands a chance against what is laughing their asses off at them.
The whole the human spirit will not be conquered shit, is just that. Fuck conquering, they could destroy the fucking planet and we’d have no clue.
If I thought about it, several hundred thousand races could destroy the earth without even so much as entering the solar system.
That’s what narcissism has done to this world.
They kill each other in groves not once even thinking there’s another way.
Too many believe religion. Belief has the word lie in it. That should’ve been a clue.
What aspects of your cultural heritage are you most proud of or interested in?
I’m concerned with the now.
I’ve already looked at my DNA as I have African, Cherokee, Hungarian, which is Asian, Persian, Eastern European, Dutch, French and the isles, English, Scottish, Irish.
Here’s what I learned, we care too much about the past and it’s fucking up the future currently.
When I think of great leaders, I think of Gandhi, King, X, JFK and others.
Men dedicated to peace and all of them shot for it.
Then the snake died because people are stupid and can be easily led.
A news story here, a news story there, both of them lies, but who gives a shit, they must not unite. It’s only on keeping them divided that they don’t pay attention.
That’s why racism exists.
If we all stood together they wouldn’t stand a chance.
But King, had he seen this day, he would weep because they’ve gone backwards.
Malcom where are you now, dead.
What about Gandhi, peace was all he was about.
If Gandhi saw this world, I have no idea.
Bruce Lee taught everyone.
I have nothing left to give.
Just thinking about it makes me feel ill.
I can’t think.
Help
You know diving in head first with emotion will cause a crash of epic proportions.
Back off the emotion.
Thank you. I needed that.
Yes you did.
I get that I’m human. I like being human, it means I can die finally. My energy will go into the Earth as I have no soul.
I’m looking forward to my death.
It will be a good death no matter how I die. No death is a bad death.
Life, now that can be good or bad, but really who cares.
If anyone has seen the movie about Bill and Steve Jobs, you would know that Bill is a fucking weasel.
Licensing, fuck you, I bought it and I don’t need you to fuck it up.
Used to be you could fuck with your windows operating system to get rid of what you don’t need.
Now this fucktard has fucked up.
He’s next.
I’ve already started his possession. It was really easy, all I had to was tell him he was good.
I’ve seen his memories.
How is it Microsoft isn’t paying a dime for being a monopoly?
Pay offs.
I’m not sure how we will kill. I think using a garrote strangling them. It would be interesting to strangle someone. Watching as they are aware that they’re going to die.
Stabbing is good and all, but it either takes too long or is too quick.
I like the idea of holding them and not having to hear them. Strangulation it is.
He’ll kill his kids.
All the time saying sharing is caring.
I don’t know what gave me this ability, buy I like it.
The Church of Rock 'N' Roll 
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