Authors: Penelope Crowe
Although opals are beautiful, even if you love them, you probably should not wear them to bed because the stone is lit from within by the devil. It will also take some of your energy to keep it glowing and bright. Wear it now and then but do not leave it on always or you will wither. Rubies are good to wear, especially in the winter, and especially with yellow gold.
I think you can change the way you taste. I believe fruit was created sweet and delicious for this reason. I think we should eat a lot of it and we will taste sweet too. Eat fruit for a whole day, or two days—nothing but fruit and then go down on each other.
I don’t think I believe in love anymore or maybe I am incapable of love. I really don’t want any relationships—I just want to be admired or known for something and left alone. Maybe I would surprise myself and do well with someone who I am madly in love with and who can be madly in love with me—but that is not what I have. I have a relatively poor semblance of a marriage. There is nothing to sink your teeth into.
There are no conversations that go beyond sports or goofy stories. I used to feel things and believe in rapture and joy. Now I don’t. I feel sorry for kids who are just getting into relationships—they have no idea. Hormones are everything. Your body finds someone it can reproduce with and then all you can think of for months and months is wrapping your legs around that person and swallowing them up. Then your hormones decline a bit, and if you are lucky you chose a decent person and you can be happy together and be friends and love to be with each other. Or you can come out of your pheromone fog and realize you picked a great one for a pretty baby, but a bad one to love.
As for me, maybe I can’t love honestly. Maybe I am too needy and my expectations were so high that my relationships were doomed from the start. So now my personal guardian angel is getting worn out—or maybe it has been worn out for some time and this is why I’m having such a hard time. It’s funny to think angels actually exist. And if they do, they may have personalities just like we humans do. Some people must get really good ones and they help the person with their potential and keep them out of trouble and are always alert. But what if you get one like me, relatively sickly and depressed, and quite incapable of doing a good job because you are too tied up in yourself?
Supposedly angels have a hierarchy—seraphim, cherubim and so on. Some are higher ranked than others. What happens to the people who get the lowliest of angels? Were those all the people in the World Trade Centers on 9/11? What about the women who get raped? How about all the people across the world who are starving to death right now—or being beaten by their husbands, or tortured by a harsh government? Is it because they are forsaken, or do their angels suck? I can’t understand how life can be beautiful…if you have any answers or insight,
I am twenty-two days away from publishing this and I wonder who will read it. I wonder who will connect with this and if anyone will understand it at all. I have decided to write it under a pseudonym, because even though most of this is information just flowed through my mind onto the keys in a blathering, spurting fit, some of it is close to true, and I do not want to hurt anyone or have to explain myself. If I did I could not be honest and I could not write anymore and I would like to continue.
Over the past few days I have thought of the names I could use for my new birth certificate, my new author name. I started thinking of names on graves that are kind of funny, like Frank N. Stein—not that I would use that—but the inspiration is there. I used to wish I had a twin and I could do anything I wanted to her. For instance, I could cut her hair and see what she looked like because she would not care because she belonged to me. This is kind of the same thing. I wish I could do this without being myself, yet still get the credit for it. This is day seventy-eight of one hundred unfortunate days.
I like porn where there is bondage. I don’t want to see anyone truly hurt or injured, but I love the domination and submission aspect of the whole thing. I like it when the man acts like he loves her, yet is still going to punish her. I love to see kissing on the mouth, but only if there is real chemistry—not just senseless domination with the poor girl sad and gasping for breath.
There is the nothing sadder than being rejected.
Your own personal and specially chosen demons watch you like a cat. They know your every weakness and eat you up from the inside out. Whatever is hard for you, they will make harder. If you enjoy something that is bad for you, they will make you love it and crave it. They will make you think if you don’t have that one perfect thing you will die and that’s why you shouldn’t have it. Because after all, it is the only thing that
makes you happy.
Demons blind you against what is right and make you not really care about anything after a while. You will be able to make excuses for yourself for just about anything. If there is a hole in you—that is the perfect place for them. If there is a crack in you, this is where they get in. Doubts? Doubts are like a playground for them because they use them in endless ways. They can take one doubt and turn it into dozens. The dozens turn into hundreds. Nothing will ever seem clear again.
Demons make it appear that nothing is black and white. In fact, everything will fade to the same dull, moss-covered shade of grey, and even if you want the blackest night to help cover and protect you, it will not come. The grey will permeate everything you see and you will begin to send your demons onto others without knowing it. You will see other people as bad and intolerable. You will know they are beyond help—when actually, it is you. You won’t be able to think of anything but yourself.
The good thing is, you won’t be afraid anymore—not afraid like you used to be—like when you were a kid when fear blazed in your stomach and you could feel the adrenaline pump in your veins because you
something was after you and you also knew you had to get away before it was too late. When you
make it up the cellar stairs, you were exuberant and felt happy for hours. You told everyone what happened.
You escaped the boogie man. But now it
too late and you are not scared anymore. Because the demons are in you and they are part of you now. Now the only thing you are afraid of is forgetting how to smile. They make you tired and bored and vicious—and you don’t really care. So how do you get out of this? Every once in a while you feel a glimmer of hope, but it doesn’t last long because you have too many other things to worry about (like how your kids won’t talk to you, and how your husband is mean and calls you names). Or you feel sick again, and just how long can one single day last. You forget how to keep the demons from running your life. So they take over and run you for as long as they can.
What do you do when you realize they are here? That you have been surrounded for years? You fight and do all the things you are supposed to do. The simple things. The things you have not been doing because they seemed ridiculous, like cooking dinner for your family, talking to your kids without telling them everything they are doing wrong. You believe in yourself and stop telling yourself on a regular basis what an asshole you are.
It’s so hard to stifle the voice because it’s the voice of something dark, something black and sticky. So you hit bottom and realize there are two ways to go, and the choices are simple: you can go down the road you’re on and smell the ashes burning behind you as you continue, or you can fight. And it is going to be a fight alright, a terrible and beautiful fight. But don’t look too far into it because it may make you crazy. Only look at what is going on
because too much focus on the future or the past somehow turns on the witchcraft and magic and brings them back again.
Do what you need to do now, and laugh at everyone else because for this moment— you are winning. I think they singe and scream when you laugh because now it’s not the evil laughing you were doing last week when someone who hurt you got hurt themselves—it is real joy. It’s happiness because you have them under your heel, and there is nothing they can do without your permission. In the scary books you read, if a vampire comes to your window,
have to let him in before he can harm you. He’ll do everything he can…promise how good it will feel and tell you all the pain will go away. THIS IS THE SAME THING. If you let them in they are allowed to work on you—and they will. So…DO NOT LET THEM IN! This is easier said than done.
What if you want to watch porn—just a little. Because a little won’t hurt, right? It’s not hurting anyone, right? So you turn it on, or buy the book, or look up the pictures and you forget they are not in love—most likely they don’t even know each other. And most likely she is very young and broke. And it’s pretty safe to say she is hiding this from her mother. Maybe she is getting an STD during the film you are looking at that will kill her next year. Despite all these things you watch and you are fascinated. And before you know it a few hours have gone by. Your house is a mess, your son won’t bring his friends home because he is embarrassed by the mess. Everyone is hungry because you did not have time to cook dinner, so you get fast food,
Slowly but surely everyone gains weight and their immune systems kinda go off-kilter and they start getting sick all the time. And when you don’t feel good you make lots of bad decisions. And it starts to spiral from there. Smoking, drinking, hanging out with bad people, not caring to do your work. And the circle is complete and now it can self-perpetuate. All this is from
temptation. No big deal right? When things are already off—the fun for them begins. How else can they screw you up? When you are partially screwed up, one more screw does not seem that bad. In fact, it gets to be funny in a sick kind of way. And then you can start to relate to that side of things. You’ll have excuses for this, too. The people going down the right path will be prissy and stiff to you. Any discipline will be viewed as a negative. Any steadfastness will be scorned. Before you know it the seven deadly sins don’t seem so deadly after all. Gluttony? Oh, please—I only have one life to live so why shouldn’t I be able to have and eat what I want?! Sloth? Shut up already—I’m tired and bored and need to rest. And it goes on. The slippery slope is a dangerous place to be.
I remember a movie that starred Keanu Reeves about demons and devils. He was a demon fighter, and there was one part of the movie where he was outside with a woman and he told her to close her eyes because the demons would be revealed and it would overwhelm her—and when they were revealed they were
, watching every move the humans were making. Not doing anything attack-wise, but watching and waiting and plotting.
I think this is what is happening with us. I think they just wait for us to make bad decisions and use the opportunity, any opportunity like that to get us. I think idol hands are the work of the devil. I think I need to shut off my brain because sometimes, a lot of the times, it is not me thinking. I am being attacked and my brain is being infiltrated with a constant stream of shit from demons. Or maybe the devil himself.
There have been too many times recently where I have been angry at God—not the devil—and taken the anger and resentment and bitterness and left the door wide open, and I’m pretty sure that I get closer and closer to never being able to come back from this. Perfect possession is when the devil is just part of you—he no longer has to attack, he no longer torments you because you completely accept it, probably happily because it is easier to accept the fact that you have a place with the devil vs. a lord that takes your favorite pet, or your mom from cancer or has just given you a bad life in general. You figure there is no need to relate to a being that lets all these things happen. You’re screwed so you might as well go somewhere you at least feel welcome. Or you think you are welcome.
You are so very welcome by the devil—you are his food. You willingly choose to knock on his front door and ask to be let in. You will not have a place there though. You will not be part of anything—you will be isolated and you will be murdered a little bit every day for the rest of your life—or at least until you decide to leave. And you can decide to leave. Even if you make a pact with the devil, you can change your mind and start over with God. And now you are going to be in for a fight. Because the devil had you and he is angry and he wants you back. He will send five more to get you back.
Stop staring—I can see you
Although my eyes are closed
You see I’ve caught you looking
An uncompromising pose
You can’t believe I’ve noticed