Selecting the “topic” for which this article is to be posted under really made me cringe. I’m not sure why. Strike that. I know why. I hate categorising things, be it fashion, nationality or the types of tomatoes down at the local supermarket.
“Vampire” is what this splurge is about. Really it’s about the thoughts and opinions that have been bottling up inside for a year or more inside of me, and you could call this a bit of a rant. Or you could call it a bit of psychosomatic bullshite. And before I go on, from the outset I do not intend to offend anyone or anyone’s beliefs / lifestyle. If I do, then I apologise now. If you want to add anything, then you’re more than welcome. If you’re still there at the end of my words, you deserve a beer.
What’s bothering me on this snowy night is the fact that everything, even the way that a person lives their life, is put (willingly or unwillingly) into a category. I’m trying to figure out at the moment what exactly the nature of the soul emerging from my body is. In general terminology (ie. the people I meet on the street) it would be goth / vampire. But then I’m not. To the average eye I like to appear a little different. I’m the quiet one in the background with those funny boots on. I’m the one with the Mr Potato Head on top of the T.V. who likes to drink her own, and her husband’s blood. I was recently told that I was the 100% English goth. Even though it was a compliment, I didn’t take it as one.
Every person on this earth is different. Every soul that emerges as the body matures is different. Even if the body choses to live under a category (fashion, lifestyle.) I am not a goth. I am not a vampire. I am just me.
I think what I’m really trying to understand at the moment is part of what I am. It’s to do with the Vampire lifestyle and how that applies to me. People have been known to call me a vampire. I’m not. I do not have any allergies to sunlight or health issues when I don’t partake of blood for sometime. (And before you think it, I’m not saying that Vampires don’t exist). But what I find strange is that I have such a taste for blood. I enjoy the taste (frankly it make my toes curl, like a fine cup of earl grey tea) and it’s not because of the eroticism that can surround blood drinking.
I look around a lot of material out there, and all I see is people saying “this it what a vampire is”, “no this is what a vampire is”. I don’t think there is a definition. You are what you are. Maybe I am a Vampire. Maybe I’m just a confused psycho. Maybe I’m looking for the comfort of a category to belong to.
As I write this, I think I’ve found the cause of my anger. I’m trying to find a category for myself. And that’s where I’m shooting myself in the foot. There isn’t one. And then I laugh to myself. Why did I chose to file this article under “Vampire”?