I had to come to terms with my sexuality the hard way. Getting fed up with never being able to accept it, as society never can, I've had little choice but to repress it. And I resent the efforts that have been exerted in order to help consenting adults feel guiltless and free in their expression of love for one another. How could any of this possibly help a monster like me?
I continue to hold onto hope that I had love in my life, and indeed was able to feel and reciprocate that love before the evil overwhelmed me. Before it convinced me that I cannot overcome this and that it will inevitably claim my life. There is no way out of it. The desire to reclaim an innocence lost is as pitiable as the desire for an innocence that one can never fulfill. The bitterness of the loneliness can only ever be turned inward and self-hatred is a default mode of existence for the soul-destroyed thing that is left to exist, when the mind and body conspire to break whatever is left and destroy all evidence of what once was.
There is no help available. Only shame and regret for ever being born. How monsters are hatched from within and destroy from within before the world is aware of the menace that needs to be contained. And the menace is real, have no doubt, and being alerted to the menace is all that the fear-locked securitorious consciousness dwells on, when there is a beast on the loose. No matter that the beast dwells in its lonely cave and shuns the company of all that is fair and lovely in order to justify its painful, pitiful existence amongst the banished nightmares of the darkest of minds.
Who could ever fall in love with a beast?
A
I continue to hold onto hope that I had love in my life, and indeed was able to feel and reciprocate that love before the evil overwhelmed me. Before it convinced me that I cannot overcome this and that it will inevitably claim my life. There is no way out of it. The desire to reclaim an innocence lost is as pitiable as the desire for an innocence that one can never fulfill. The bitterness of the loneliness can only ever be turned inward and self-hatred is a default mode of existence for the soul-destroyed thing that is left to exist, when the mind and body conspire to break whatever is left and destroy all evidence of what once was.
There is no help available. Only shame and regret for ever being born. How monsters are hatched from within and destroy from within before the world is aware of the menace that needs to be contained. And the menace is real, have no doubt, and being alerted to the menace is all that the fear-locked securitorious consciousness dwells on, when there is a beast on the loose. No matter that the beast dwells in its lonely cave and shuns the company of all that is fair and lovely in order to justify its painful, pitiful existence amongst the banished nightmares of the darkest of minds.
Who could ever fall in love with a beast?
A