Time sure does fly when your miserable... right down the f***ing toilet. So many years spent hating everyone and everything I ever wanted but could never have. And what did it bring me? A twisted sense of trust and a dark shadow of an entire year spent speechless. Sugar and spice and everything nice to the cold ones. People who for one reason or another refuse to accept that not every minute of every day can be had smiling. Do they not know pain? Loneliness? Sadness? Or mayhaps they've known too much. A thousand babies to sort through, the most perfect to win an all expense paid trip of idealism... with the small price of individuality and worldly knowledge. Black souls of icy hatred, bringing fear to the small and anger to the capable, lustful for a second chance. Unfair it is, that you prey only on the weak... A path strewn with petals of rose, soft and sweet and scented with the kind breath of love... mute of the deep pain within, the inner battle that screams daily, a final song contesting to such a hate as never known...

Swirling ink with blood, delving into futures yet untold and undesired... Does mother want you? Oh sweet child, weep not. The forsaken are many and you can not be alone with so many brothers to turn to. We are here, a family like you have never known. Our names? Hatred. Confusion. Anger. Bloody Justice. You would know us from The Crusades, The Burning Times, The Inquisition. Beyond your time? Might you recognize us from the works of such artists as Paul, Ted, Charles? Or maybe just your father... ah, and there it is, a firm embrace to ones he understands much easier than the people that turn him away. And why should he? To love a creature who causes this world so much pain. Such a lovely vial primed for our poisons to bring full effect... A corrupted society based simply on the principle that everything is good. The children feel it, that deep hole they are expected to jump into, in the name of God, with no sight as to how it resolves. Our jump is just as steep, but with a blackened candle to show shadows of hope for them... to show a way out. From what? The bullies at school. The mother that despises them. The father that beats them or mayhaps takes what is not to be given. The pastor that condemns their choice in love to hell eternal. The failed marks. Knowing the life contained within them if discovered will ensure their quick and cruel dismissal from their own family and church... The one whom they adore but will not give them the time of day. The job they've lost. The knowledge they are alone with no one to turn to or to help them up when they fall in this hard world's race to succeed... The box cutter laying upon the table glitters and they smile, realizing what must be done. When all is pain, heaven can be as simple as a depression in the smooth, unending tale of agony. Hence we can keep those misted promises we make, so very, very easily. And yet we exist of evil, and the children are warned... By who? People of God who say such empty words and promptly turn away or worse yet make as though ashamed of what the young turn out to be. Thus why would they listen to you? Accept your advice and see it as an attack on their TRUE family, one that is always there for them through thick and thin, only costing a small amount of personal head space. When we breath in that realm, the mind becomes cloudy with our voices, so much that they look asleep with the concentrated pains to discover our meanings. Some do not take to us naturally, there is the desire but too strong a tie to their lessons learned. They need aid, which we almost always provide... Potions to create a more pleasant trip down the slope of success. Often you discover this, sadly, it is our most visible trait. Thanks be to the deities, you rarely attempt to disway them from us, but rather our concoctions, which is fine, as the pain and suffering they endure when thrust into sudden deprivation often sends them running back as soon as you turn that blind trust back to them. Who do they blame? The ones who coaxed them to take our medicines? Hardly. They hate you, for not trying to understand what they need and desire. Never seen is the fact that need is due to us, oh no. So precious is your stupidity... You place more blame and responsibility on adolescence, black clothing, musicians and drugs, rather than face your own inadequacies. We live as a swift black pony, the speed too much for you to cope with and therefore you feel a need to chase some slower, more capturable beast. Fools. Please continue, and leave us peace to steal your child's heart away. Make no mistake, understood is the fact that deep inside you feel the love for them... But mayhaps you are too steeped in the white paint of religion to see your child is not the same, or maybe you understand what we bring them but are a past consumer yourself and the permanent scars disable you from attempting to rescue them. So be it, the cause hardly matters, the only fact they need to know is that you FAILED. It is highly believed that few escape us, but that is so very far from the truth. A good portion of our victims survive and grow on to bear fresh souls for us... though we claim ones, true be that. Farther and farther we bring them, a tailspin and the mind becomes encased in our opinions, bitter laments and dark suggestions. Symptoms include dark, empty eyes... silence... pleasure taken from all things painful... chosen solitary confinement... hateful bloodthirsty music... And the worst to think is that i've not ever had a need to feel guilty. What we bring them is a sweet respite from the painful life you've given them. We help, in ways you never could. And then the conclusion, one of the most delightful parts. Our voices become too loud, drowning reason, your complaints, ending remorse. And opening the door from which the most sweetest pain emits... and all it takes then is an act of small disservice. A glare, a shove in the hallway, a failed test, an angry request for a chore to be performed... *smiles* An attack on their current state, which is very common and a personal favorite. And that is the spark and the rest is natural. A final shedding and release of all that emotion and pain... When the dust settles we have laid claim on school shootings, matricide, car bombs, robberies ended with death, murdered family pets and suicide, as a small list. Only large events gain worldwide attention, and thus you allow us privacy to continue our work. May I take this chance to thank you, for being as you are, afraid of anything you do not understand and unwilling to attack what you are not sure is there.