Worlds undreamed of
The gates of Venus are dark alleyways
The Infernal causeway is slick
The tunnels of Earth are tight
The roads of Hell are paved with misunderstanding
The back streets of Heaven are litter with whores
Cum drops for the soul cough
Joy in the flesh
Dance 
the pain away
Forgot the absence of paradise promise
Here is only the now
Lick to the last drop of your emotions are gone
Play the drummer boy role
Vacations are ill advice
Time is not wasted on summer idleness
Soon all will be autumn past
There is something about my energy i have only recently discovered. Mentally i will never age passed 15. Even if i live to be a thousand years old.
Itâs that my energies renew itself twice a day. I have been working with it only the past two months. My healing is still taking place.
I am never wise. Wisdom is beyond my reach, but knowledge is everything to me in my foundation and core.
In the feminine nature of eternal youth i am the perfect consummate to old, wise masculine energy. He leads, i follow in fun and knowledge.
Its the right blend in natures and temperatures.
Happiness is probably beyond my reach in this lifetime? 
Pleasure is not. I was raised a certain way by a unknown Gatekeeper to being an entertainer in countless ways. But i am much, much then that.
Iâm heading into unknown territory these days. So is the world
I think i miss being able to being soft and friendly towards people in general. Society is just getting worse.
I wish i could be the version of myself that could express myself more openly without having the gut feeling of ridiculed in the air
Protection is prison?
I suppress most of my nature out of habit
You canât mention being an elder eldritch/eternal child without anyone giving you the side eye
I donât believe happiness is possible here, only pleasure
I focus on that mainly through eating, masturbation and meditation
My meals are small in size and i take my time enjoying each bit
Its better that way
My powers are trying to kick up but im trying to keep them under control
Wishing for help is greatly a pipe dream
No one wants 24/7 none stop pleasure
I have always had it, its my reality but i dont think anyone else could handle it, honestly
People cum, they go back to their normal reality that is my normal
It just various levels of that organism feeling for me is always there, constant wave of pink
You get use to it
It only deepen as i age
The Pink Infernal Rot
What it feels like:
There are fully about feeding their never-ending thrills and chills of depravity, baseless crudeness
Think of dick and pussy forever finding pleasure in pulling and pushing
Mouth feeding and drinking/pissing and shitting
The entire energy cycle
To give in fully into this gaucheness, to fill such primordial-ness before the void was a thing
To let go of thoughts or feelings, but deepest emotions
To lick at the head of cum dropping into the lips of such follow wanting
Its a deep yearning we would be smart to avoid, to awakened itâŠ
Eldritch energy seeps/weeps into this weak, pointless reality
Fueling the means for its existence of usefulness
*Entertainment
I am without a soul, i am empty, shallower/swallower of everything
I vamp without much worryingly
I just need to be unlocked with a strong holder of an ownership
Then one who wields me forgoing forever the ridiculous spells/rituals waste of time
Only focuses on pleasure with the Pink
There is no out for me
Stuck in this low vibration and my powers justâŠ
I canât beg for anyoneâs help they would either not believe me or seek to misuse me
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âWhy are you pushing me?â
Iâm pretty sure what you mean. But since you started it, and everyone has access to this diary, feel free to expand on it.
I miss being married. I miss having a husband. I miss having someone to share my life with. I miss the sweet tender moments after love making and just laying in his arms the fullest of it all
The utter completeness that we were togetherness
Bound by love, formed by joy
Life alone is fine, but life with other is better/sweeter
Is that all you want?
You know, men have a really hard life.
I have to exercise and run. Iâm not muscular like a bodybuilder, but I donât look bad. I have a dating app and itâs very rare for women to text me themselves. Maybe they just curl up in a ball and cry how lonely they are. I wonât cry about it, life isnât just about women.
Nobody is perfect, finding the perfect partner is a joke. You have to invest in everything, including your partner.
I heard people can starve to death in a forest full of food. However, it is true.
Wearing a suit of armor prevents from tending to the injuries within
Vulnerability/logic is sometimes not a great combo for deep healing?
Currently working on this myself. Allowing someone that close is a dangerous dance
You talk to me in poetry and I donât know how the hell to relate to it.
The words of the King Zagan keep running through my mind
âBe like me, be like a soldierâ
Iâm not a woman and Iâm Satan disciple, I canât afford to be gentle Iâm just jumping to conclusions.
Youâd like to do everything yourself, but itâs ridiculous. Thereâs still a crying baby in you.
I know what Iâm saying no child should see what my eyes saw. None.
With the Beliarâs advice not to look back on people and a ritual I found in the book Satan The Adversary. I finally regains my lost power. I finally feel like a Man and do what procrastination didnât allow me to do. As if the chains had fallen from my soul. These are magical chains that no sorcerer can break from you.
The path of demonism is a path of suffering, but only demonism can do certain things. Thatâs all.
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Poetry is meant to be felt not to be understood.
Thatâs why poets have always been poor. At least I donât know any other stories about them. Poetry is to serve man, not to blind him or bind him. In fact, some poets were outstanding experts in their profession.
âBright star, would I were stedfast as thou artâ
BY JOHN KEATS
Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou artâ
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like natureâs patient, sleepless Eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
Of pure ablution round earthâs human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask
Of snow upon the mountains and the moorsâ
Noâyet still stedfast, still unchangeable,
Pillowâd upon my fair loveâs ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live everâor else swoon to death.
I push people away. Safer that way. After everything i donât think anyone could possibly understand why
Working on my shit
Just keep working on it
Itâs been extremely difficult road just to get to this point in the journey. I donât trust anyone. I mistrust every single person.
I donât see the will or need to change that.
Perspective
Zooming out to see the deeper truth