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My name is Trix, if you don't remember that, ill shove the letters down your throat.

I do not pretend to be a vampire, I’m share more characteristics to a werewolf, psychotic and angry under my full moons, but just another guy otherwise. My moons are described below


If someone bothers you, ask them to stop. If they persist, destroy them. -- A quote from the satanic bible

I’ve always held a natural hatred for authority, my experiences have taught me to have faith in nothing but myself and my own abilities, and in many ways, my "life" has granted me those abilities, perceptive of peoples actions, why people tend to use mad words before a fight, all they want to do is act tough but are afraid of confrontation. I hate people who act; I want to break there fucking fingers

I HATE LITTLE KIDS! but I want a son.

Don't ever get the wrong impression of me, I like the way I am, hell, I love it, I love going psychotic, I love the sound of someones screams and I'm breaking there nose, the sickening crack as there ribs give way under my foot, the look of them trying to grasp air with my hands around there throat, I love it all, and it's painful to love something that hurts so much.

Questions and thoughts I've had over the years:



There are too many opportunities to make money, but there’s nothing to buy except food and cigarettes, and I don’t like to eat



The other day, my parents threatened to call me in as a runaway if I didn’t obey them, before I realized it, I punched a hole in the wall and told them to go to hell, should I be working out more?



this cocky little bitch has for some reason hated me since the 7th grade, kicking his ass doesn’t seem to make a difference, so I'm gonna stick my dick in his eye and fuck his brains out, draw a pentagram over my heart with his blood.


I had to talk to a fucking pig, that bastard, telling me how worthless I am, how I'll never amount to anything, I should have fucking killed him, I'm pissed, I'm pissed, I'M SO FUCKING PISSED, why do I have to be so pissed pissed pissed! I could have killed him, I SHOULD HAVE KILLED HIM, THAT MOTHER FUCKER CAN'T TALK TO ME LIKE THAT, god damn, why do I have to be pissed?






I think I smoke too many cigarettes; my mouth is always dry no matter how much beer I drink



I feel myself forcing down all the food I swallow, we are weighed down by it, every day we need to eat, people find happiness in the taste of sweets and fast food. But it only lasts a moment, and then all you do is try and find another way to feel better, why can’t we all just turn to alcohol?



I counsel people too much, it’s become an expectation, but afterwards they turn there backs in ignorance, its what I’m born to do but what the point if there is no more loyalty in America?



I go from girl to girl, always searching for someone who will fallow there own path with a sense of devotion, and always finding followers of "the norm" could that be why I’m on this site?



My mother! says she knows everything about me, knows my mind inside and out, says she can control me, haven’t I proven my power? That cunt just wants to act tough, another actor...



the law... what the fuck give those bastards the right to call themselves the "warriors of justice?" they have repeatedly broken the code in which they have sworn to uphold, think they get special rights from being law enforcers. Many times I have seen them smoking pot, running red lights, turning on there sirens to get to the donut shop fist to get the fresh ones! Ill tear out there heart and hang it on a pike.



The tears we shed are not a sign of weakness; it is a cleansing of the soul. Creating strength for when you’re backed into a corner and your only options are to accept that corner as your prison for life, or to fight through the walls made from your anguish and rage, if I am unclean, then why can’t I cry?



"Hate is the drive from which all people draw power.
Love is what helps people use that power to gain.
But when there is unbalance, a demon child is born, torn out of the void that is created in the heart of a broken man whom does not want to be forgotten."



Why am I so fascinated by death, the pale, marked up look of a gothic woman? The darkness makes my head go crazy, full of lust for evil, never having a moment of peace, I never dream, I barely sleep. Pain is no pleasure to me; it’s more of a natural feeling, irrelevant. But I love the look of a deep puncture wound, to see your insides, tortured and mutilated until every sign of human has disappeared. I feel the desire for more, flesh exposed to the outside air. I’m not at peace, and I would have it no other way.



Why don't I know myself? Is it because I have no reason to? Or maybe there will be things in my phsyc that could destroy my beliefs. I try to search, to understand why it feels like there are two different forces tearing me apart. If I split in two, one half will be caring and nurturing, protective of whoever needs it. The other would not hesitate to cause pain, to kill in the name of nothing. Would both parts be free of the others grasp? Or will they fight each other as they have always been. Lately, it seems that the darkness is winning control over my body, yet the light shows at times when all other lights have been shattered, but dark is more fun than the light.



I have decided that there is no point in life. Once we die, we are dead for eternity, even if my greatest and only fear is of true death, to have my existence to be in vain, I know that it is to be so. No matter how many seeds you plant in the veins of those you influence, once there life source is gone, so is the seed. But I cannot die, already dead as I am. To submerge myself in a pool of ice water just so feel my heart stop. I have died many times but always come back until whatever task drives me is complete.



The world is good, as are many people who reside there, why the fuck is the world so good? Yet as we build and grow, we are blocking out the light, and with every dark corner our numbers grow, soon I hope that the world can be covered in a sheet of darkness where the only light is what shines on top of the tallest mountains, towering above the sun that penetrates my views of the perfect world.



Why is it that people claim to be tormented and don’t care about life, yet fear the paranormal? Hurting or even killing them, haunting, deceiving, bull shit! If someone truly did not care, or did not fear death, they would embrace the horror of the unknown, as I wish I could see the other side, some proof that it was there, a haunted life would be a great one.



Confusion, anger, distortion - a perfect poem of the heart, the blood pounding through our bodies. I would like to die, suicide is not an option, even if I could be left to die, to rot as a bloody wreck in my room, my coffin of life, suicide must not be the way, I must bleed in my death as I have in my life, my corpse must be bloody as I fall through the gates of hell! The only gate in which my sins as a man will allow me to pass through, how nice would it be to live among the men whom were sinners in life, demons feeding, tearing us apart, bloody inferno of hell, such a great place to be, heaven is where I will not allow myself to exist, that is my hell. Sometimes, I do not know what I would do if my sins were to ever escape me, for hell to escape.


Fucking Christmas! I hate every part of the holidays. Our families getting together and pretending that we do not hate. I can see there evil glances at each other, I do not think I could handle another holiday with them!


Drunk again, I seem to be drinking everytime I get the chance, I am taking anger management classes because of that assult charge, why the hell to I feel this way, I cannot stop what I am doing, every time I beat the shit out of someone I just find someone else to beat, do I desire to find someone stronger than me or do I just want to destroy this world and everything in it, why am I so angery all the time, I cannot let anything go anymore, they must all me destroyed!

Fuck, I got a second assult charge, the court is going to have my head for this one, I am definately getting sent somewhere, but that bastard deserved it, if those god damn teachers didn't pin me up against the wall, I would have killed him, instead he only had to go to the hospital for a while, I would much rather pay for a funeral than for a visit to the doctors.


I got lazy so I just made the rest red

It is not my job to start a conversation with people on my friends list!