PlagueJester

The Gods gave to me three gifts. The first gift is the gift of despair.  When this black wave crashes down on me, I realize how insignificant I am in the entire scheme of the cosmic universe, which is but a small island of profanity in the divine ocean of anti-cosmic disintegration.  And thus I am reminded of how great the Gods are. The second gift is the gift of overwhelming hatred.  As this red fog fills my mind, I am blessed with the divine will of the anti-cosmic and the unwavering resolve of dissolution that the Gods feel toward the profanation of the Demiurge and his arrogance. The third gift is that of self loathing.  In this gift t

Trembling, I stood before The Figure clad in black.  The smell of dirt on Him filling my nostrils with a hateful magick, the cold radiating from Him burning the skin and the soul.  It was then that I knelt and called Him "Lord."  With thin emaciated fingers He bestowed upon me a mantle woven of the finest Misanthropy and commanded me to rise.  With a Voice unheard by the ears, He bid me to do His work.

Today I decided to take a stroll in the very unfresh air.  I would trek through the wilderness of the internet.  I sometimes do this to hunt for rare species and beautiful peculiarities.  And one of my favorite haunts, for the rare beauties tend to be found there more often than some other places, is an intellectual swamp known as DeviantArt. Ah yes, my favored hunting grounds.  This putrid swamp, while hideous on first glance, gives home to some beautiful flowers and rare and lovely insects.  So I wade through its stinking waters in search of these things. Today, I saw sticking out from behind a tree a shelter.  I could immediately tell by

Though I plan to kill myself after writing this, this is not a suicide note.  Though I will confess to my horrible, and unwilling, participation in a horrible deed, this is not a confession.  I am writing this as a warning.  Should anyone ever attempt to follow in my footsteps, certain knowledges are forbidden for a reason.  Certain secrets aren't meant to be discovered.  Behind me waits the loving embrace of a noose, and though I yearn for the cold grip of a death at my own hands, I will try to take my time and make this all as clear as possible. Several months ago I came into the acquaintan