My Father is the Devil

My father is the Devil.  THE Devil.  Satan himself.  My mom's a nice person.  That makes me 50 percent Satan, 50 percent a nice person.  An outside observer would never know.  When I'm awake I do pretty normal shit, like read books and lay around praying for death.  It's only when I'm sleeping that the beast runs wild.

I do all types of wild shit in my sleep, like invent methods of torture that don't exist yet.  I won't scare you with details but I'm telling you, my subconscious is totally fucked up.  My dreams are where my truly Satanic self comes out.

Being part Satan has its advantages.  The Hell I occupy while unconscious carrier over into my waking hours enough to allow me to express myself in really sick ways.  On the other hand I'm plagued with disturbing thoughts, like, if I sacrifice small children to Satan (my father) will it bring Eric and Dylan back to life?  Times like that I have to remind myself it's just my father talking and my mom would never approve of such behavior.

Now I'm awake.  Thank you, mom.  Thank you, God.  I'm shotgunning my third cigarette of the morning and my eyes are blurry but fuck I'm awake.  If you knew how much this hurts you wouldn't be alive.