R-Ruthlessness - A Diary from Prague 2/6

Purity is only found in the ruthless man devoid of passion. He is me, a provoking fucker, womanizer, bi-weekly alcoholist, dreaming mass-murdered, and agonizing atheist. P.S. I only drink pure single-malt whiskey, double.

I have discovered the reality of the madness of our earthly life and as I am fond of tormenting thee, I will not disclose my findings yet. You ought to suffer some more. But I will let you onto a little secret: "never trust anybody except yourself." This is a world of mad dogs; they will beat you, cut you, tear you, they will never get enough, they all are fucking virgin masochists — P-A-I-N! There is nothing pure. Thus, the rare individual, the extinguished man, is an impenetrable castle, he is ruthless to his heartstring core. Unbeatable, Unfathomable, Uncontrollable, Un-changing, He is ME.

It is a rather unusual disposition, that is, a sight to behold, namely, a man daring to challenge the all-demanding plainness, the purposeless, rather mediocre value of modern life. He is at the same blink of an eye an imbecile and the reincarnation of Jesus Christ. Oh, my thirst for blood is only equaled with my hate for that despicable thing called faith! Oh, do you really see a God as a salvation to solve your freakishly miserable existence!? How sad.

There is only one reliable fact in life: yourself. Unbearable as it may be, still, it is the best you will get. Purity is uncompromising and weak in a world surrounded by blood-thirsty hounds and a virgin like yourself. Your smell shall be described to the pettiest of detail in the wanted sign nailed to Parrot Road, your name is already known, your destine has forsaken you, RUN SISTER RUN — that is my only command!

And where shall you hide? Where shall you hide? Come, look close behind, there is nowhere to hide. I swore an oath, even you my dearest will be my ever-thirsted steak dinner tonight — oh darling, can you forgive? Me? You must understand, only once is it my night. My night. You heard it right BECAUSE TONITE’ IS MY NIGHT!

Righteousness comes from within, broaden your chest and wings, and tonight you shall fly beyond the silly rough-shaped rooftops of yesterday — tommorowland calls you, what is your answer? Shall you be a bastard, or fucking beastly, devilishly beautifully righteous, a bastard of proper proportions? — For there is nothing more pure than the gaze of the torturous mad beast! Heavenly descend; pray you may, but no fucking saint are you, hail all-mighty St. Potter!

P.S. Dear Editore, don't die on me in Prague, I am not done with you, you filthy whore!

Aye Ego