Something Humorous

First, my apologies for not being able to update much lately. My Accounting subjects are proving to be real bitches, and it doesn't help that I have one of the most boring teachers ever (he talks with all the intensity and wonder of a dull, red brick). This has been a massive cause of migraine and stress for me, so much so that it (gasp) managed to make me smoke again.

So I decided to post something humorous. Weird things tend to happen whenever I enter the bathroom. First, there was the incident with rat; and now this one. After gulping down six tall glasses of iced tea, like any normal person, I naturally felt the urge to pee. Since the urinals were all being used, and since my bladder was being uncooperative, I decided to use the cubicle instead, much to my misfortune, since it still reeked of freshly popped... poop. I must have stayed at least a minute inside the cubicle. As I was about to flush the toilet, I noticed a small, white envelope placed on top of a small ledge immediately above the toilet, where people could place their things while attending to their 'business'.

The envelope was unsealed, and on its face were written, in big, red, bold letters, the words 'Pick me up and read me!!!'. It wasn't addressed to anyone in particular, so I assumed it was left there by the writer as an anonymous message to anyone who might come across it. Inside was a rather untidily folded piece of paper, full of ink smudges and slightly crumpled (I imagined some emo kid must have soiled it with his tears after hearing some pretentious MCR song). I couldn't stop laughing at what I saw. It was a love letter, written in black ink, with its marginalia glossed with images of broken hearts, bats, angels, and peppered with some pitiful song lines from MTV (How could this happen to me?!?!?! hahahaha). I'm not an expert on the subject, but the script suggested to me that the writer was a bit methodical and unsure of himself.

Here is the text of the person's 'letter'. The spelling and grammatical mistakes, as well as the bad poetry, are the anonymous writer's own doing.

Read me now!!!

This dark, torturing essence... these sultry shivers! I am tortured by the blackness. The light is dead... it is dying... bleeding!!! Feeding the world with its malevolence... Why!!!!! Why won't you leave me alone!!!!! Is it not enough that you rip my soul our for the sport of your ravens? Is it not enough to see my flayed by your icy stares! Why must you thrust this blade of sorrow into my wounded soul? Why am I being tortured BY YOU!!!!!! You, you who I loved with all my being! And now that being is gone... Consumed. Burned. Destroyed. And I must fade into the shadows... MY despair shall consume you all.

I HATE YOU!!! I HATE YOU!!! Die!!! I offered you the immortal blood of vampires... And you unleashed your garlic at me [WTF! This is just lame -Arch]!!! I exposed my neck to you... and slit my jugular to feed you... and you say you belong to the light? Where is darkness we once enjoyed? Are you leaving me now for this mortal? Answer me!!! I was once your angel, and you were once my nephilim... Now... GONE!!! My eyes which once burned for you can see no more... my nihilism is whole. My essence is gone, stolen, ripped, trampled upon by you...

I will not say goodbye.. But know this: I will ever watch you from my corners in the darkness... I will lurk in your shadow... and when the time comes... you shall drink my blood again... and we will be one.

Eternally
-Night Angel

Man, that is just whacked. Were I on drugs, that would probably have made me see all sorts of weird visions. It would have been funny, too, had 'Night Angel' not taken himself too seriously. There is even a post script where he says that he wrote the dedication with his own blood, despite the fact that the 'red ink' suspicioulsy smelled like... ink. And since it was placed in the men's room, I think it's safe to say that 'Night Angel' is a guy, albeit a rather pathetic excuse of one at that. And he writes some of the worst poetry, too. Although in the end, I guess it's still better, or at least on par, than some of the lameness they peddle on MTV.

As I said, weird things tend to happen to me in bathrooms. At best, this letter was like that one time when a friend of mine dared a mutual friend of ours to scream 'Time to S--t!' at the top of his lungs in a five star hotel. At worst, it is like watching a David Lynch movie, where people never understand what's going on half the time but praise it as if it were a vision from God. In this case, Lynch's movies have finally met their match in the written word.