Mael

I stepped out of the house.....

No, let me go further back.



I picked up Anne Rice's 'The Vampire Lestat' a few weeks back. I read it in my own solemn world, taking in every word and detail. She has her way with writing.
Today. I hit the last hundred pages of the book. Lestat begins to question eternity and somehow or rather the 'good' in the world and our very existence. Let it be clear that the fact he is a vampire and the fact they dont exist is too true and eagerly accepted by me. I would like to make it known to my readers that it's not the supernatural, not the undead, or whatever you may think that might have affected me. It was based purely on how our thinking so happened to be alike.
Now, i've read her books many times. I've brought up issues, paragraphs and descriptions shes written to christians and found that their answers did not satisfy me. In this manner, I am somewhat like Lestat. An eagerness, almost revolting, so fiery it burns madly. Always wanting to know more, finding answers everywhere, unsatisfied and unconvinced that there was no answer.
As I read the book, nearing the end I realised she was answering my every dark question, making more real the horror that i've kept so deep in me, making me realise, it could be true.



That there was so much more to everything we all know, but we just can't seem to get to it.



It made me afraid, very afraid. My whole system of belief collapsed, I didn't know what to think.
Why? What are the things that made me so?
The emptiness of loneliness, the devasting pressure of love, the insane notion that you are the only one that holds so much in their mind, the painful sorrow of knowing there are no more suprises to/in life anymore, the increasing doubt that the angels and devils are real, that there are only powers in the world and neither one of them could be real, that your lives and mine are controlled by something we can't see, touch or hear, that everything done and said was by someones design.
How can one be so sure? I once believed, or should I say, I still have hope that there is something more, but where.....
A believer said, "I should have faith."

Crumbling now. I cannot simply put in words like how Anne Rice has done. To address the readers:

Vampires are good for nothing. Fashion, yes, maybe, who wouldn't want to be like them. But have you thought of how and what they think about? The blood? Please. That's for kids.


THEY QUESTION GODS EXISTENCE AND THAT'S WHAT I'M DRIVING AT!

Why is love so hard to find? Twice it has eluded me. I do not speak of the love of a woman or a man, but the love of understanding. Why are you so predictable? Why are we following a routine even you yourselves do not know about, but it can be so obvious to me? Why do you disgust me with your reasoning and your utterly pathetic ways? Why do your emotions make me smirk? Your increased effort at trying so hard to prove yourself to the world, they are fruitless, why? Why are there so few answers to the millions i've asked throughout my life? Why are they not answered? Is there nothing else in this world? Are there no answers? Why I love you all yet hate the way you present yourself? That I have given up hope in finding the perfect one for me to spend my eternity enraptured in your beautiful incantations of understanding? Is this what you have all come to? Stupidity and insffucient intelligence? That you're so shallow, that you possess so little knowledge of the world you live in? That there is so much confusion and doubts you cannot discern for yourself which is right and which is wrong? Why is your understanding of everything that surrounds you so hastily put together?


Is there no one? No one in this world that can come to me and tell me what's in my heart? What torments me night and day? This madness that never stops?
Anne Rice did it. She took my soul right out of me and put it in words I can never repeat.
It scares me, it horrifies me, it makes things that aren't supposed to be real, come to life.

Doubts that make your world smaller and smaller. It changes everything.

Is there really no one that understands all this?