It’s Halloween time again. Time for ghosts, ghouls, vampires, spooky shit, and the supernatural. Enjoy, and don’t overthink it.
We all go through it if we are all so fortunate enough to experience it. I have experienced heartbreak on more than one occasion, but the last time was the worst time of all.
She decided to plan a trip to Europe for 3 months, hid it from me the entire time that she was planning it, and then “dropped the bomb” on me a few days before she would be getting on her flight to leave the United States.
I was stunned to say the least. All I could think to ask, was “Why?”
Why are you leaving me? You don’t have to go. You can do your trip, you can stay. But no, she was done. I could see it in her eyes. I know what “done” looks like.
And so my heart broke. It was an open wound. Bleeding. My grief and pain was the worst that I had ever experienced in my life. It was even worse than when my Mother died.
I was in a daze, a haze, a fog. Everything was surreal and nothing mattered. Except the pain. The pain mattered. It was all encompassing and ever-present. It was with me in the morning and when I tried to sleep at night. It was in my sleep and dreams. It was everywhere I looked and in every breath I took.
I started drinking steadily.
It was to dull the pain. Yes, I was medicating. I knew that then, and I know that now. Getting drunk dulled the pain. It made life a little bearable for a brief while. But I knew it couldn’t and wouldn’t last.
I talked to friends and family about my pain, my loss. They were empathetic and kind, and it helped to a small degree, but it didn’t end the pain. Drinking still helped but not as much. I just wanted the pain to end, I wanted to not feel the heartache anymore. I was tired of my heart being broken and bleeding.
And then one day it happened.
I had been reading a book on “The Dark Arts.”
Mystical “Woo Woo.”
New Age bullshit packaged as Ancient Secret Lore.
There was a summoning spell.
The skeptic that I am knew it was bullshit, and with a sneer and a smirk I read the ritual aloud.
I then tossed the book in the trash and went to bed.
The next day, “It” showed up.
I say “It” because one moment it seemed “as a man.” But then it would change its appearance somehow and it then seemed “as a woman.” Whatever “It” was, “It” was beautiful. “It” was attractive. “It” was seductive.
“You called. I came.” It said. “What do you seek?”
The beer I drank must still be fucking with me, I thought, but I decided to play along. What the hell, right? I’m having a great delusion, a grand hallucination, I might as well get the most from it.
Thoughts flashed through my mind. Nothing would stay put for more than the briefest of moments. Except for two things.
I wanted my heartbreak to end. And silly enough, I had been on Twitter the night before, watching guys talk about “Game.” But I wanted more.
“Done.” The entity said. And then it laughed. A most cruel and sinister laugh it was. It sent chills down my spine. And with that, the “thing” disappeared.
I rubbed my eyes and looked around. It was gone. Maybe it had never been there and I had dreamt it, only I was awake. Maybe I had hallucinated it. That’s the most likely answer. Yeah, I hallucinated it. No matter, time to get on with my day.
The first thing I noticed is that my heart no longer hurt. I didn’t think about her and mourn the loss of our relationship. I could still see her in my mind, I could still picture her vividly, but it no longer hurt. It was just “there.” We dated, loved, shared a life to a degree, had some great sex and some good times, but meh. It’s just “there,” is all.
To not feel pain, to not feel the loss of what was and what could have been, it was a relief. A blessing. I guess “time does heal all wounds.” At least that is what I thought at the time.
I went out and lived my life, and it was interesting. Meeting women became easy. Rejections didn’t sting. Not even in the slightest. It was “no big deal.” But I didn’t get many rejections. Women that I considered “out of my league” said yes to my offers. It was thrilling, it was amazing. And the sex..
Oh man, the sex… Nothing was “off the table.” Nothing was taboo. Nothing was denied me.
The more I fucked, the more sex I had, and the more I “dated,” the more I wanted.
I told a friend about it and he said that I was Chasing the Dragon. Like a junkie chasing the next high from a hit of heroin. At the time I thought he was right. Turns out we were both wrong.
It’s not like being an addict. I’m not chasing the next high.
Imagine starving, only for real.
Only the more you eat, the hungrier you get.
I’m not chasing my next high, I’m chasing my next meal. If I don’t eat I will die.
That’s what it feels like.
An empty pit that can never be filled.
The more I eat, the bigger that endless chasm grows. The more I get, the more I want.
And the HUNGER is endless.
My heartache and heartbreak is gone. I can feel, and I do. The intense highs and lows of living a life, my life, nothing has changed there.
When I’m with women, I feel, and I feel intensely.
And I HUNGER.
I don’t just want a woman’s sex, her passion, her desire, and her body. I want her soul.
The women I meet now all say to me, “You are so different! There’s something about you, I can’t put my finger on it, but you aren’t like all the other men I have met.” Oh baby, you have no idea.
I didn’t know what the hell was going on, but I found out:
(noun) A demon; a fiend; a lascivious spirit, supposed to have sexual intercourse with women by night.
Except the dictionaries and the myths and the folklore got it all wrong.
Incubi aren’t “spirits,” per se. They don’t just have sex with women by night, in their sleep. At least I don’t.
This is what has happened to me.
This is what I became oh so long ago when that entity laughed and said, “Done.”
Be careful what you wish for, it might come true.
We walk among you. And we HUNGER. We want your souls, not just your bodies. And our appetites are insatiable.
I remember a friend jokingly making a reference about me as me being a “literal demon.” He had no idea how close to the mark that he had come.
I’ve said things to my friends and to women that show up in my life, things like, “I am the Devil, and I’m here to do the Devil’s Work.” Or, “I am Legion, for my names are many.” Everyone thinks I’m being silly, melodramatic, or exaggerating. I say it all with a wink and a smirk. We all laugh at the joke I’m making, except the joke is on you.
Your women aren’t safe if I happen to turn my gaze towards them. Your girlfriends, daughters, and wives are all fair game. All women are fair game. None can resist my full force and charm should I turn it on them to try and satiate my hunger. I don’t care how “alpha” you think you are.
I used to drink in order to medicate a broken heart. Now I drink because alcohol is the only thing I have found in this world that will “take the edge off” of my hunger. It’s a distraction, really. You should be thanking me that I drink, because most of you have women that I would like to meet. And they want to meet me. I hear their siren-song. I hear their call. I see it and hear it in their off-hand comments. You tell me what they say. You show me the screenshots. They titter and laugh and it’s all deniable and it’s all in good fun, and it’s all bullshit, until it isn’t.
Like a shark smelling blood in the water, I come.
And it’s never enough.
Technology is a wonderful thing, it really is. Now, I can play their heart-strings. I can sing songs of lust, promise, and desire. And they will come to me. Whether by plane, train, or automobile. They come to me. Endless souls in an endless supply. In the “old days,” you had to travel, you had to walk “a thousand miles.” It wasn’t easy and it was expensive. Now no longer, not anymore.
And it’s not enough.
I use technology to my advantage now. If I can’t see and hear them, they will hear and see me. YouTube, Twitter, TikTok, Facebook, a blog, dating apps, texting, you name it.
I set my beacon of desire afire and ablaze and wait.
They will see my visionage. They will hear my voice. They will hear my words of promise, lust, and desire. And they will come.
While you are “alpha-ing” and memeing on the internet, they will come to me. While you are extolling the virtues of being a “good man,” and a “Good Dad,” they will come to me. While you are debating the finer points of some dusty, ancient philosophy, they will come to me. For they will hear it in my song of Desire and see the light of Truth twinkling in my eyes.
My hunger is vast, endless, infinite. And it grows with each soul I collect.
I don’t sleep now. I’m tireless. I’m relentless. Every day and every night there is another woman from whom I will feed upon. I will devour her soul, satiate my hunger for but the briefest of moments, much like an orgasm, and then come for the next one.
Sometimes I wish I hadn’t thrown that book away. Sometimes I wonder if there is a way to “reverse” what I have done to myself. Sometimes.
“Allow me to introduce myself, I’m a man of…”
“Pleased to meet you, hope you guessed my name.”
See you around. 😉