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I have recently noticed that I am feeling more and more vulnerable. Its not the cold sense of fear that I used to feel about myself, its not anywhere near that easy to decipher, but its a real and equally painful feeling. Everyday I wake up and have no one to call. Every night I lay down and before I close my eyes there is no one to say good night to. If I were to die right not, there would be no one to see my life as it came to such an anti-climactic end. I love living alone, but for the first time in my life I feel as if I can no longer live for myself. I just don't see a purpose in it.

This sounds strange; Seeing it and admitting it. I'm sorry for who ever reads this, since it will all probably seem insane. But I promise you that I've never been more lucid.

I've never cared much if I had a girlfriend. Even when I realized that it was emotional and not physical, and that I may well begin to love a man in the way I would a woman, and even when I moved out away from my old roommates and started training for my education degree, and even as I saw all of those couples holding hands and kissing; I never once cared if I had a girlfriend. Its never seemed as if it mattered at all.

My old friend Char-Char once took my heart, and for the time it was wonderful to sit beside her and have her remind me that my feelings only went one way. I cared about her, and in truth I still do very much, but even at that time I was happy just to be near her. It never hit me that I was the only guy who was sitting alone amongst my friends.

So, that leads me to becoming active in the Furry Fandom, and learning about art as a way of life. I learned alot and I grew alot, and for the first time I saw that evil kind of joy portrayed where two beings were in love not by choice but by fate. Manifest Destiny. Crazy men than I once used it to murder and to rape, and all I want that cheesy little bit of horse s**t to do is fetch me is the eye of someone that I, for the first time, burn to be near and with and around and for.

I just want to sell my life and live for my mistress.

Which leads me to the realization that I am a slave. I want to be owned and told that I am somebody's. I want to feel their love or their hate poured over me like the waves of some dark ocean that I may never surface from. I want her, but she is not mine to be had. I want 'love' to be real. It isn't.

"You all lie to yourselves and say that you're in love. It's sick to see you living."

But, it all seems as if it is caving in while I sit here and tell my story to a room full of ghosts. The sad tribute to my epic downfall. I am alone here, even when those people that I care to know come and talk to me or I go and talk to them. Even when I sit in that big red chair and I pour my heart out to the man with the clipboard and glasses, I am alone. Thats how we die, mind you.

"Every living thing dies alone."

That's from Donnie Darko.

And this is from me. Its not a good-bye, because living for nothing is better than dieing for my own lust.
What I offer here is a one time event.
You have just bore witness to the fall of a man's life.
You cannot unsee it, and many of you ghostly memories won't try to, or let me try to.

For anyone one who finds this.
I beg you to help.

For the one who was meant to find this, you will never see these words to know that it was you. And that's the way I think it should be. No reason to hurt you with my love. You found yours and you are happy, I'm sure, but if you ever see this and your head grows light and you think to yourself that I am speaking only so that you'll hear; I ask you not to help.

But to run.

I'm not worth saving, I am a servant to my own stupid fate and you are too good to be tainted.

I am a slave, and I have no master to claim me.
I am an artist, and my soul can never mend.
I am a living being, and I am too broken to live for me.
I am alone. I am alone. I am utterly alone.

----John

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I'll even include some poetry. I wrote these in the hour since I first posted this message.
All this material should give the people who don't read this plenty to do while I am awaiting my fate.
Life has such a sick ******** sense of humor. Its disgusting.


I once loved you long ago
Back when time meant nothing
And I assumed every day was a given

I held your hand while you stumbled
I washed your feet when you were weary
You were everything I could have needed

Then the days grew cold and short
I drew breath only enough to survive
And when you shook from the cold I gave you my shirt to suffice

I loved you once, long ago
In the days when time was a given
And every day meant nothing

Those were the days that I died
If only to let you breath the air without fear
The abstract we were fond of
And the absolute we feared

Give me nothing, Mistress

Take me all, Mistress

Tie me down and beat me
Pick me up and keep me
Drag it out and leave me
I am yours without a doubt

Take me
Break me
Make me feel loved.

Hate me
Rape me
We can rename love

We're something else when we're alone
And I’m afraid to be without you

So take me, Mistress
And make me feel alive
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Yellow in mood
You took me into another world
Your arms held me while I slept
Yearning for you as I dreamt
Yesterday was young fun for some
Yet I desired more

Red beads began to gather
Revered and sacred as they were
Revolting as I saw them
Running freely from my heart
Restless blood spills too quickly
Regret is thy untold name

Green with envy as I saw him
Growing ever nearer to your lip
Getting fonder by the minute
Ghastly welts I could not grip
Gone were the days of innocence
Garnered without love

Blue, blue moon weep not for me
Beneath the starry skies
Behave like little lightning bugs
Benevolent and wise
But I will not partake with thee
Bad memories
Of better days still haunt my restless dreams
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I felt your breath as I drew that fingered noose
Your words touched me, even when you couldn’t speak
Everything had been done before I chose this
The emerald shoes seemed to walk as they swept the floor
Soft green eyes that spoke volumes to our past
And the sounds of you slipping were enough to say you’re sorry

Sad, sad day. Sad, sad girl. My sad, sad hands are sorry. What a sad, sad way to go.
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