Entries from March 2001 ↓

Yes, it is true that we are individuals. We do not interpret information in the same way. If we come to the same conclusions, the pathways that we have used to arrive to the conclusion is different. And so on and so forth in this way. However, often enough some of us are so different that what is said is taken all the way to darkness. And that’s when trouble starts.So it was with me… Continue reading →

There’s no love left in meThere’s nothing inside of meI can’t find a true homeAnd that’s why I am aloneThere’s no love left in meI don’t know what’s now in meI think I don’t belongI know I can get alongAll is dark now in meI am blind but I can seeI realize something’s wrongI don’t know what I’ve becomeI don’t know what to beAnd I don’t know what to seeNow I know, I am noneI feel bad when I go homeI don’t know what’s in meBut I know it is like thisI am sad in my homeI am sad when I’m aloneI’m not bad, I’m not meI don’t know what I can beI will die in my homeI don’t know where I belongNow something’s burning meI feel darkness over meRight now I am aloneNow I know, I am my homeHate’s all I have in meAnd right now, I cannot seeAll my life is like some…Some kind of hell where I belongI don’t know where I amBut I know I cannot findAny place to call homeI will die sad and aloneI can kill my own selfI don’t know if that’s the wayI know I’m not happyI hope I’ll find that in meAll I feel now is hateWhat I feel comes down my faceRight now I am not meWhat I know, It’ll come to meIn my mind all is blackI know I don’t want it whiteNow I think, it’s the endSo I’ll go down and hang myself

“bras”. Sung to the tune of Gary Numan’s cars.By Alchemistress.. INspired by Nick Pellow.here in my bra,Im as safest as all,I can fasten the hooksits the only way they stay therein bras..here in my bra,i can hardly breathe,I can lift up my boobsand shove them in your face,in bras..here in my bra,where the bust is pushed outright in your facein bras..here in my bra,yeah i’m starting to chokeI can feel the bone dig although nothing seems rightin bras..here in my bra,boobs aren’t what they seem… in bras..copyright Alchemistress. 2001.

I love this site to peices… everything makes me happy to hear here… BUTbut the one thing that I don’t love (though I do) is it adjusts your eyes to the dark… and then when I go check my email my eyes really fricking hurt… the harsh bright (oh GODS is it ever bright) white of the page gets my eyes aching and I get a headache…I use the “Matrix” style because its the most pleasing for those who are interested in knowing… “Use a different background!” you may say… “N-O” spells, “un-uh”

this is my first post on darksites. what compelled me to submit this ? I’m sickened by the nature of most posts…don’t you people ever get tired ofthe whole “what is goth?” and “how do i become gothic?” bullshit ? don’t you guys ever get fed of of posting the “listen to the following bands to be goth” crap (we all know it doesn’t start or stop at music).come on… am i the only one getting sickened by this ?

I’m sure you’ve read all the manuals before. You’ve read Machiavelli, A Book of Five Rings, The Art of War,. You’ve studied hard. More than that, you know you’re good. You can play with the best, and win. However, if you would rise to the heights of vampire politics, a word to the wise: real life vampire politics is special. It has its own rules. It is also far more vicious than anything you have probably ever encountered before. If you used to live action role play in the Camarilla, that was nothing compared to what you are about to get involved in…because players in role playing games usually do not take the evening’s entertainment home with them. Identity politics in the queer scene is likewise negligible, because queerness is for the most part an accepted variation, one that people in the civilized world acknowledge as real even when they do not accept it morally. Identity politics among a people who are often dismissed as unreal and deluded by the masses - ah, this is a ground ripe for vice. The ground has yet to be defined. The sands are always shifting. Therefore, an opportunist can do well, though the risks are great. Continue reading →

Why is this thing so confusing to do, damn it!! Will someone please help me?

loneliness a prayer, the blasphemy that will someday break the mold.crippled words ripped off the tombstones’ hurling scream.[drowning clichés.]

She lay there in black satin sheets, her milky white skin a stark contrast against them. Her face was turned towards the open window, the curtains billowing in the slight breeze, as the sun disappeared beneath the horizon. Music played low in the backround, so soft the words could not be deciphered. A hot salty tear rolled down a slightly pink cheek, one hand dangled over the edge of the bed, a glass of brandy held loosely in it. The door opened. Continue reading →

Dive through eternity,Release yourself from illusions,Confront your Fear.There is something for you…something sweet…something sinister…You will find what you seek,expecting nothing by this dimension…called Human life… NoHopeNoFear@darksites.com

alone ! don’t you ever feel alone, and no ones there to hold your hand? am just writing this because i have nothing to do. i just know am all alone in this so called reality of a world .why can’t people just be themselves ,and why can’t everyone have those answears to questions not yet asked. god,, if there was one could help us and tell us something to keep us from doing something stupid. i just wish i had something to help me on my path of life .god why am i so different than i really want to be .i don’t know who i am, or what am doing here ,god! i can’t do this !!am going to sleep now peace!

This poem, like all poems, may mean whatever you want it to mean, I made it thinkin about fear and i think the point is very clear but maybe you can share another interpretation about itI am going to make a poetry site possibly here in darksites and i’ll post all my poems including this one.I may post some others here soon.This one and all my poems may become songs in the future, that’s why i try to keep a rythmI guess this should be on writting, but for me this poem is liek horror, because i was horrified when i wrote it so that’s why i picked horrorNow I just want one thing, I need some 100% honest opinions about it, please if you have time, read it and express your opinion about it”Look around the corner Look around again Imagine, now it’s colder Imagine what’s away You now have to wonder You now have to fear Imagine what is older Imagine, fear or tear Be quiet, try to listen Be quiet, try to hear Now you have to wonder The meaning of fear Try to think quite slowly Try to think quite clear Relax, don’t be lonely Relax, avoid tears Shut up, hear the voices Shut up, hear your mind Calm down, feel your body Calm down, feel the wind Breathe calmly and look under Look under your tears Relax, try to wonder Relax, avoid fear Look around the corner Look around again Calm down, (it)’s getting warmer Calm down, now you’re sane No, don’t think is gone now No, it is quite near Don’t forget to wonder Don’t forget the fear Don’t forget the darkness Don’t forget what’s here Don’t forget that madness Don’t forget the fear Don’t forget that corner Don’t forget what’s near Don’t forget to wonder The meaning of fear”

“Yes,” he said to himself, “I am a clever one. None know, and those who suspect shall die.” He closed his eyes and thought of his Jessie. Beautiful, shining Jessie, with her straight blond hair always flowing, flying in the wind and her soft blue eyes dancing. Continue reading →

She was sitting on the couch watching tv when the phone rang. She answered it as she always did, with the same cheerful “Hello?!” She was suprised to hear his voice, it had been nearly a week since she had heard his voice. “Hey baby,” he said “I am really sorry i havent called lately. I havent been able to get to a phone.” “Its ok” she replied, “I understand.” Continue reading →

I try to be nice, and I am, I try to ignore their immature acts, and I do, I try to forget that they’re there, but I cant. Everywhere I go, many people annoy me with their “like omg’s” and “whatevers”. If only they developed a more useful mind, then used it, I could get along with them. A true get along, not the fake one I put on all the time. *ugh* Its like no matter what I do, theres only going to be some people who I can get along with. And not once has it been a prep, nor jock. Which doesn’t surprise me. If I were to get along with a prep or jock i’d shoot myself. I can’t stand how fed up they are with themselves, and think they’re so good and cool because they’re athletic. I’ll stop my moaning and bitching and complain to someone else now. Fare Well til’ next time.

Drink from me, the wine,Eat from my heart, so sour,Flesh falls before your vine,Rose vine of eternal power,Dancing wishes vanish,Slipping through my hands,Failing love and to bannish,Void splashing on the sands,Bleeding holes of their pain,Iron thorns seal the creed,Wretched truth, pours from vein,Droplets form the sinful seed……………..

The pink gauzy curtains billowed as the breeze sailed in through the open window on the third story of the mansion. She was there- but then again, she was always there, singing her song, and staring down at the ground below. Something about a man coming to carry her off. They were always afraid she’d come tumbling out of the window someday. That stupid window just wouldn’t close. That’s why the guards were placed there. Continue reading →

I’ve been workin with some changes to try and fix the blank page
problem, and the problem with changes not being saved.

Please try
changing some of your info in your profile now and see if that helps.
Email me about errors.
Continue reading →

Stabbing another cigarette out in an ashtray already overflowing with them and it’s cold outside, cold in here too because of the external or in spite of the internal (the heater is on, powerful) just like I was when I was in school, being something because it was what everyone else was, or doing it to destroy what I had inside me, on any given day I was never really sure which.

Fiction is the world in which what is true and what is constructed can co-exist.

Continue reading →

I actually wrote this based on a real experience I had. It was an extremely distubing and frightening dream I will never ever forget.. Sweet unconciousness. Breathe for life. My heart beats in slow rythmic pulses, fading in and out of reality. It was those cold, invisible hands I extremely feared; I detested. I couldn’t control its grip so ever tight around my neck. I thought this would be it. The end of two separate worlds: dream and reality. The death of both the mind and body at once. I remember desperately gasping, panic setting in. I tried to hold on to the utmost of something. Anything. The agonizing words I spoke came out as silence. My heart suddenly stopped beating, then it got really awkwardly quiet. My eyes forced open. I still felt those hands around my neck. The pulse of my heart was beating rapidly. I choked from the strangulation. I remember everything. Every emotion and every sensation. It was a nightmare of intense reincarnation. I will never know what happened to my previous soul. Until then I really didn’t believe you could actually die in dreams.

Vision fades into the night, a gunshot of murderous thoughtsof reality wounds revealed.Thunderous hatred screamsas execution feels burnon soft-surfaced skin.

Acidic melting shame,disconnective mindless cares,empty esteem of unfounded hope,rip apart the injected veinsthrough serial killing ways.

Everything seems of disbelief,choked upon unreal faith.Unforgotten remembrance heldwithin hourly sadden frowns.Morals undone of what becomestaken away by familiar hands.

Ahead is your silhouette A lithe form within the moonlight A tear forms - like how we met Suddenly there, then out of sight I proceed to walk up the lush hillock A single rose held at my back Above I observe a watchful hawk In courage I abruptly lack Your golden eyes rise to meet me As the sun to the arrival of day Within these reflecting orbs I see The inescapable darkness they hold at bay Your arms encircle me softly As if I were made of hand blown glass Beneath your love is safety No harm to me will you let pass The rose is deftly placed within my hair A soft hand caresses my face Your love is shown with the utmost care And takes me to another place Your mood is more than halcyon It’s as smooth as polished stone Night’s cloak you will forever dawn But my heart will be your eternal home~~

i’m feeling lonely over here. happens once in a while. even to those of us who convince ourselves that the people we know are good enough or that we don’t really need people so we can hate everyone we know without guilt. it seems that i can never find someone i truly like. no one is ever… good enough? it sounds self centered, but it is true. everyone seems to be fake. everyone seems to be in it for the sex or the money or popularity. no one is ever in it because of love. no one is ever in it with me.

i’m such a whiny person, aren’t I? well, it becomes habit when no one stops you.

can it be that we were put on this earth to forever long for one person that we may never, ever find - the world has been cruel, but that is just pure evil.

darkest blessings upon you all,

~moon vampire~

http://www.darksites.com/souls/vampires/moonvamp/index.html

I wrote this a while back ago. I would like to learn ways to improve my writing. Please feel free to comment on it. Thanks.

‘Scarlet Stained’I knew of you too well. The icy chills would run down my spine whenever you were near. Keeping my distance by ignoring your existence, I would hide behind your shadows. Creeping, crawling with secrecy, I shudder at the haunting call of your voice. Breaking my eardrums, bleeding in agony. My life is strung upon a string of thread like a spider’s web. You are the black widow who furiously watches the tiny, helpless fly trapped within your seductive lure. My lips bleed of scarlet blood. There are bloodstains on the floor. A bruise embeds my face.Your words of love. Or that of hate? You told me countless lies - I believed them. I lie awake contemplating on the insomniaty you induce me with. Who’s to blame? Like a spike upon the mallet, you slash. Like a scab on a wound, you scar. Like the demon in an exorcism, you possess. A billion apologies won’t make it go away. It only makes it worse. Dark crimson bruises. More stains. A shattered heart. Shards of glass.

Here is a poem I wrote.. inspired by true events. I’m not sure about names.. but here’s the story. A man was in love with this woman.. and after she died. he covered her skin with wax and silk to preserve her.. and inserted tube in certain areas.. well.. u get the idea. Here is the poem. It’s not about the waythat I feel when I see youit’s not about the waymy heart breaks when I speak your nameit’s not about the waythat I ache for youI dont know whyI think about you all the timeI dont know whyI cant get you out of my mindI dont knowwhat you see in meI just know Iwant to believeSilky soft skinhidden curves only I seeI memorized every lineof your perfect bodyso perfectly capturedin my daydreamsI don’twant us to ever seperateI don’tever want to lose youI don’tthink I could love anotherI don’t think I could live without youEvery line is perfectwrapped carefully in silk and waxevery detailpreserved for eternityyour body may have ‘died’but they can never take u away from meI don’tunderstandwhy you leftI never accepted the possiblilityI don’t want to believebut I will accept anythingas long as you are here with me

Hello to all you independent beings. The terrible world of Stuck up people had been bothering me. Too many judgmental “humans” roaming around pointing/staring at all the goths. Or so called “freaks”. I guess in other peoples words, “freak” is dignified as someone who has the gutts to dress how they want, express their feelings truly, and not putting on an act for everyone. And these days, everyone is no one. If anyone listens to Bauhaus, Switchblade, Velvet Acid Christ, Christian Death, VNV Nation, Black tape for a blue girl, Sisters of mercy, Lycia, etc. email me, I’d love to talk to you.

“To cut or not to cut…that is the question” -Raven Carver; 10/31/84-7/16/00A simple quote, given by my late best friend, Raven Carver. As you can plainly see, she died last July. By her own hand. As did her older brother Craig, three months later.The reason I’m writing this is because I have a question. Why do people cut themselves? I do, and I have nothing against it. But…why? Continue reading →

could somebody give me a clear true definition of goth????

Regeane was terrified. She had been sent to HIS chamber by the Head of Guards, Broc, and was told that the new King wanted her “company,” but she knew it wasn’t her company that Lord Saesha wanted. And she was terrified. She had been raised as the ultimate seductress, but she had never truly been with a man; in any way. She barely even knew what happened between men and women during sex. Continue reading →

In the game of chess, I am the board.