I am feeling particularily evil these days.
I ask myself if it is right to live in a constant state of hatred, to feel extreme pains of passion and pity as I do.
The answer is: no.
There is power in evil, a lot is required to create vast worlds and altered realities. It wouldn't do to get tangled up in a lot of 'this is really wrong' bullshit.
It doesn't matter what I feel or what I want. What matters is the horror, that and getting it down on paper. The stories stack up, the list of submissions gets longer.
Win some or lose some, I can't stop.
There are worlds of tales to tell and I have many. There is work too, and the boring hum drum banal tasks that must be performed. Then there is release, a blessed combination of wanton lust and merciless need.
To live a life where only half of your ambitions are fulfilled would be a very sad thing indeed. I chose to fight on, carry on writing and hoping and making and killing.
There is only one path to follow.
The one I follow is because to waste a talent is a sin.
I won't waste what I have.
That's a promise.
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