The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

And what that of humans that we call friends? Are they truly our friends, or vampires that suck us dry tell we have no more to give, and move on with their parasitic ways. My grandfather used to tell me a story of the town drunk. Who on payday had all the friends in the world; yet when his wallet became dry, so did the friends! In cases this is very much true; in my life I have experienced these so called friends, who in fact are leeches of today’s society. True friends will remain to the bitter end with you. But these leeches will find another host when the first has dried up. Cruel but true.

COMMENTS

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hellseeker
23:23 Mar 28 2008

hmm ur right 4 one thing, I haye it when that happens:(

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Depression has led to circumstances in society that humans have yet to grasp the true meaning of this disease. Alcoholism, even the unthinkable act of suicide is attributed to this disease we call depression. But these people have to realize that the way to a healthier tomorrow is to start within themselves today. And if we make these people realize that they make a difference in our society and that tomorrow holds a bountiful resource yet to come, they might realize that we are here to help them on the path to the unknown future.

Emotions are the center point to the entire universe, for we weep, we laugh, show that we are scared. For without these emotions we are just as plain as the pebbles that line the ocean. For we do nothing just sit and contemplate. For we never reach the goals that are set within our hearts and souls. Dream, fantasies and make every new day better than the day before. With more love, laughter and the strong bind of the family that you hold dear. For these are the emotions which god gave us to use, and in today’s mixed up society we forget to use them or we just forget totally how someone else is feeling in that same circumstance.

How can simple words hurt a human heart so much, Can the meaning of words be so perverse that they themselves can be hateful and yet express the meaning of love. Can we as humans be so cruel that our words can sometimes be more powerful than a weapon of total destruction? YE, the human language is in itself an art, or gift; which, in the right hands can bring laughter, love, and a warm heart. Yet in the hands of a spiteful person can only bring hate, unforgiveness, and an undying pain which can last sometimes a lifetime.

And what of death, is it an eternal darkness that has no end or beginning or no measure of time that we know of. Or is it the heaven that each of us seek in our dreams. Will this question ever be answered for the truth might arrive to late, maybe at our very own death bed will the questions of our very own short existence on this aging planet ever be solved. For each person is a camera of their own life that snaps pictures along their journey to the great unknown. And we ask, How can a picture in our minds tell a story that no others eyes can see, or in jest, How can a story be told if there’s no one to speak the words that present the story. For we need the storytellers to do such a thing. So we write and create the unimaginable dreams of the thoughts and fantasies that live in the shaded recess of our very broad minds.

So in fact we can tell or mimic the stories or the pictures in our minds into band written languages of our cultures. But can words create the moods or the feelings of undying love, or an unforgettable hatred, or the fear we have experienced to date. I would say NOT!

But they themselves might endure to create or dream, causing a sweep to the creative side in our ordinary life’s. But how can a person give hopes and dreams from what is locked behind those doors to another. The understanding of the so called fine arts... Would this be like asking a non-believer into teaching a blind person to draw a picture that they have never seen; or a deaf person to play the fine notes of an orchestra and hear it echo through the crowded theater, or ask an elderly person that sits and stares day after day out past their rocking chair and out past the glass barrier out into the unknown. For their bones are too feeble with age to go out into the cool, crisp nights air and feel the dew upon each blade of grass under their feet. How can we give them a piece of our very own soul to help them advance into lifes unknown dreams?

Is a woman so pure and her soul without guilt, that she can portray no physical emotion in her being. For when they are so wrapped in that we call life, that they sometimes forget the true friends or the lovers that had occupied their very existence. For they have walked over these souls to achieve their utmost goals and given them the overwhelming passion that entrances their very heart and desires. Do we call this thing greed or is it dreams that are destined to be on ones life.

What evil power does desire have over this imperfect human race? The desire for more money, or the desire for controlling power over everything, or the desire for the unforgettable lust that fills are bodies, is this what we strive for. Why can a power so overwhelming be enough to destroy the strongest of our very souls? Why can’t this race be happy with what they have gotten or achieved in ones life to give them the satisfaction of true life. Is this world so mixed up or the drones of people so blind that they cannot see the real treasure by which by any other name is called “LOVE”. The love for people, the love for our families and friends, the love for the dreams that we each have or in fact the love for the unknown in years to come. For this is true content in humans beating hearts and flowing souls; for if they find this, nothing in this not so big world will ever matter.

Can a face, be no face? Is it so blank that it has no emotion or color that it ever shows? That it is taken as a white slate of absolute distortion. It’s like an artists’ canvas that is marked just merely once but is not yet finished. Can it be like an unfolded cover in a tight bound book, which remains closed and has never let the pages be turned to be read? For the story it holds within it’s stained yellow pages can never be told or finished. So the characters themselves or the mysterious plot can never live or die for they remain frozen in time and space. Which in fact, these pages are stained with the dark ink of the ages on the cloud white paper.

Can a woman be so innocent in her own mind’s eye that she refuses to remember that she has let down her wary locks and laid her silken naked body down in the golden meadows, amongst the flowers with their fragrances sweet and God’s creatures singing to the heavens? And has made passionate, unforgettable love and desire to the devil himself and she’s enjoyed the heat from his mouth against her bosom. Then spreads her creamy white thighs and she feels his serpent tongue flicker against her swollen rose bud sending tingling sensations through her very spine. And has felt his fleshy spear penetrate deep in her tight womb; spreading her pink, moist lips around his organ as he brings her to an ecstasy that she feels flooding her mind, clouding her thoughts that are so pure. They thrall there amongst the colorful eyes in the meadows and in the heavens itself And as she tastes the sweet nectar that shoots like a bullet from his massive organ and fills her dry mouth with the very life that entrances her not so desirable soul.