Satanic stories, black magic & love

 "Destroy to open," read the instructions to my newly acquired vinyl by Marilyn Manson. The instructions were clear, yet I grew confused by the minute. I, an avid collector or music, didn't want to destroy the latest addition to my collection. I wanted to preserve the black paper wrapper, forever. But at the same time, I wanted to tear it open and play the shit out of it on my turntable. As loud as my eardrums could bear. As loud as I could to make it all go away, just for 4 minutes. I stood in my living room with the lp in my hands, tightly holding on to that moment, unable to decide whether I should go ahead with its destiny and play it, or just keep it in limbo for God knows how many days before temptation finally made me give in. I think I was always the collecting type. Even if it was cards or the occasional toy that came in a chocolate egg, I would keep them and place them carefully, displayed for everyone to see, but most importantly, for me to know that I had them...

I was always prone to let myself drown by my own misery. I had mastered the art of self-pity. And in all those years living like this, I had found joy. It was my secret happy place, even if others would disagree. I had found the place, or rather the state of being, in which I was comfortable with myself. A place I would escape to gather my thoughts and in many ways a place where I felt understood. I was well aware of all my wrongdoings and flaws, and there was no one there to judge me. I was never a bad person. One might think you have to be a murderer or a bad parent to find in the mold. I had never killed anyone or anything, except for the annoying flies and bloodthirsty mosquitoes. I always thought I was too good or too weak to go for bigger victims, it's up to you to decide. And then again, whatever you think of me, doesn't bother me at night. I sleep well like most of you. Despite the occasional nightmare, I sleep safe and sound. I had always been able to move in the ...