write me, my dog (writememydog) wrote,
write me, my dog

  • Music:
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have returned. Sinful, deranged, deliciously apathetic, and carelessly delicious. Remember the antagonist from the movie "SeVen"? He lives with me. What about Hannibal Lecter, you say? You're right, he lives with me as well. In fact, every serial killer that has ever lived, that has ever probed the depths of your unconsciously, shamefully twisted imagination and created themselves and their dark passions with which to frighten you when the lights go out and the night begins to whisper. Yes, I know them, they live in me. All of them. But they live in you as well. The only difference between you and I, reader, is that I understand that the nature of this beast, this thing we call life. The nature of the thing is it cannot be understood. This I understand. Submersion in Chaos is our only hope for understanding.
"We see a deadly sin on every street corner, in every home, and we tolerate it, we tolerate it because it's commonplace, it's trivial; we tolerate it morning, noon, and night" But how deadly is a deadly sin? And what inspires it besides our fear of it? Besides our shame? Our willingness to hide from our pseudo-moralities and face the reality of Chaos, of Nature. For isn't that what we were meant to do? Return to Nature? Return to Chaos?
The answers to the problems that we face everyday will not be found in the sources of yesteryear, in the sources that have constantly misled generation upon generation of faithless ascetics, whose only faith lies in the fear of Hell, of the unknown, of the Natural, of the Chaos where truth lies. When we look within the Chaos within our selves, that is our Natural Instinct, we will find our answers, but they will not be universal. There is not a universal solution, only an individual one. As a nation we must disband in order to band together more strongly. This is only a dream, the world is composed of fools, and I dream only of impossibilities. Impossibilities for the masses, but not for the individual. We, as cells of the larger organism which is society, may find our answers, our bliss, and our calling, in the solitude of Chaos. The world of the unknown is that world which spans beyond doctrine, beyond trend, beyond what is precise, and into the world of intuition, vagaries, and dreams. In the world of solitary Chaos, all paths are newly trodden, and all dreams are yours alone. Chaos was the first frontier, and we must realize that it is the last.

---For we are the music-makers, and we are the dreamers of dreams.

Dr. Evil
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