A Succubus Loves Me

I want to recommend a blog, though I’m sure many of you are well aware of it. Raf has a fascinating perspective and his writing is always enjoyable to read. This personal account is a real treasure:



The Journey Home

No matter how bad things get, she’s always there patiently waiting for me to walk through the door. Her cozy domicile is always open to me, always warm and inviting. I sit down and recline with her, drinking in the intoxicating atmosphere. I feel myself being lulled into a beautiful slumber and we slip into that in-between space.

No matter the situation, I can poke my head in through her window, offer a tease or brief exchange, and I am ready to face the world again. She goes with me everywhere and holds onto me like a priest to faith. The intermingling of divine energy between us is unceasing; a never-ending dance of the sacred union.

Ours is a world of connectedness that few will comprehend. When I rise in the morning, her gentle touch is always there. When I feel foolish, she quietly encourages me to not lose hope. We carefully study each other to possibly know more, but alas… we fall deeper still into the mystery of who the other really is.

It would be so easy to pull away in fear, to demonize what we cannot explain. How can I trust that which I cannot see? But I do see her, and this perception transcends all physical dimensions. My superficial base instincts long for a body with supple breasts and flowing hair, but my mind’s eye chances to glimpse at a divine light far greater. I see that light every day, but refuse to take notice. Those who claim to see are really blind, and those who are blind can see the world for what it really is.

This Ship’s Going Down, Baby…

Catherine and I have been taking massive chunks of time just to be with each other. We spent so long fighting that I nearly forgot how fulfilling it is to have that closeness with another person. There are mornings when she makes it very difficult to leave for work. I’d rather be like “The world can go to Hell,” and just stay in. This lifestyle involves a slow building passion that few would ever comprehend.Titainc-Sinking-Flares-400x-300

I’m in a very good place now. I have work, a place to call my own, and extra time to pursue hobbies. The fast-lane no longer interests me. My nation is in decline and I’d rather not be at the front of this ship when it finally goes under. Catherine and I will be hanging at the back, enjoying the fireworks. Everyone’s invited to join. There’s good music, paranormal legends to share, and no shortage of whiskey. Those fools at the front can keep fighting over the broken rudder all they want.

That last bit may sound woefully defeatist, but I don’t see it that way. We’re completely free to investigate our own chosen path without having to worry about some other asshole getting in the way. Most people are too busy freaking out about the water flooding the lower decks to even notice what we’re doing. Though there’s a bloody annoying PA system that keeps blaring about this rich guy called Trump whose trying to take command… says he’s going to de-sink this boat. Don’t worry! I unplugged all the speakers back here. There’s peace and quiet with the dull rumble of insanity just ahead. It’s quite Zen, really.

Oh, and don’t mind the evangelists making a big stink about the R.M.S. Jesus Christ coming to save us. Let them cling to their delusions if they wish, offer ’em a beer, and if they won’t stop preaching, just point out all the lost souls in the forward section. The aft decks are reserved for the sons and daughters of Hell.

I hope everyone out there in our little blogging network is doing well. I can’t imagine why we chose to take a ride on this floating insane asylum, but we might as well enjoy the good it has to offer. Don’t live for your death like I did for so many years. It’s a waste. Enjoy your lovers and take care of yourselves. It has been a privilege sailing with you all. (More to come…)