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oh no!   
11:35pm 05/01/2003
 
mood: the darkness in my heart
with the help of a benefactor who stole lestat's credit card, i have re-opened the theatre des vampires in paris (which apparently has taken up the reputation of the the most 'homosexual cultured city in the world'). the new avant-garde performances now involve white and supple adolescent boys dancing around moi, dripping candlewax about each other and performing masturbatory gestures upon the violin virtuoso as he pours out the blood of his blackened heart through the violin strings.

it is art.

needless to say, it's become quite the hit with the robust internet fangirls and the rodentlike businessmen.

showbiz is not for nicolas.
 
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so   
08:45am 23/12/2002
 
mood: uncomfortable
lestat decided that he couldn't be fucked to live with me, eh? he complains about my expressions of my devotion towards him by telling him how much pain he causes me! so, logically, he thinks that he should just leave instead, ah?!?!

so i, the one with the heart of darkness, decided to travel to saskatchewan to sulk properly. upon my ninth night of hallucination, i dreamt that my hands were cut off again - again, i relive that agonising space of time from when armand took 'em right off! i woke up and alas, my hands were still there, but too blackened to play the violin.

blast.

upon great consideration, i decided to leave. my hands thawed out upon the hot white buttocks of a young nun in reykjavik.

however, i am now stranded in an airport in halifax (the boonies) and propped in one of those internet telephone booth thingamajigs. for the past sixteen minutes, a very untasty old man has been eyeballing me. i am out of money.

everything sucks, there is nothing nice in my head, the adult world took it away, my heart is blackened and thrown into darkness etc etc etc.

damn. the discomfort of a leering old man is too overwhelming for me to even angst properly.

help.
 
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01:11am 27/10/2002
 
mood: bitchy
i watched a film today. it was called 'queen of the damned'.

...

my poor violin.
 
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lestat is truly the misunderstood one   
04:31pm 21/10/2002
 
mood: the darkness
i have finished reading lestat's autobiography with its closing pages ending in what else but his enlightening song lyrics and a car explosion?

he mocks me for my own poetry. well, sir, i don't see you writing anything better. let's take a look, shall we?

I AM THE VAMPIRE LESTAT
YOU ARE HERE FOR THE GRAND SABBAT
BUT I PITY YOU YOUR LOT

YOU CAN'T RESIST THE LORDS OF NIGHT
THEY HAVE NO MERCY ON YOUR PLIGHT
IN YOUR FEAR THEY TAKE DELIGHT

YET IN LOVE, WE WILL TAKE YOU,
AND IN RAPTURE, WE'LL BREAK YOU
AND IN DEATH WE'LL RELEASE YOU

NO ONE CAN SAY

YOU WERE NOT WARNED.

...........

it only gets better.

I AM TELLING YOU I AM A VAMPIRE!
I AM EVIL! EVIL!
I WANT TO DRINK UP YOUR SOULS!

CHILDREN OF DARKNESS
MEET THE CHILDREN OF LIGHT

CHILDREN OF MAN,
FIGHT THE CHILDREN OF NIGHT.

oh lestat. lestat, lestat, lestat.
 
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06:10pm 20/10/2002
 
mood: amused
three days have passed since i have last recorded, and several things have come to pass.

the partially-formulated plan to feed upon david talbot, sever his testicles, and cook sweetmeats out of his shrivled nether regions have been unsuccessful, thus far. i can scarcely say that the distraction from my duty i had taken upon myself overpowered me, like the darkness enveloping me whole, the blood falling from my face, the little moans of pleasure that louis emits when i--

yes.

my time had been preoccupied reading lestat's autobiography. he portrayed me as a moody little bitch, preying upon his vulnerability, and manipulating his body to pain with the music that i play from my violin.

EARTH TO LESTAT!!!

STOP PONCING AROUND WITH YOUR MOTHER AND COME BACK TO ME!!!!

i mean, sure, i would have rejected you and given your self-esteem a beating but surely, my lovemaking is a lot more desirable than YOUR MOTHER'S.

might i remind you, SHE IS YOUR MOTHER?!

you nutty little poof.

and you declare ME as the crazy one! for shame, lestat. i love you anyway, my love.
even though i think your music sucks ass.
 
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07:33pm 17/10/2002
 
mood: despairing.. but determined
it's been several days since i have written down my inmost thoughts in my journal. in these few days i have encountered armand, the vampire filth who had cut off my hands and thus driven my already-dark and tortured mind into further depths of darkness and torture....except this time i chose to fuck him.

damn he's a good fuck.

i have also met lestat's other former chamber-mate, louis, who lestat had apparently taken a liking to because this creature reminded him... of myself! could this simpering creature who aches and moans in pain (though he suffers certainly not as much as myself - can you imagine anyone suffering more than myself?!) be a reflection of how i am? how i... used to be?

i must take vigil and contemplate upon this, and i certainly had the opportunity to, but i opted to give louis a sympathy fuck instead. he may have no musical talent to pour his darkness and passion into, but he makes up for it in the sack.

HOWEVER! it has come to my attention (through the workings and the mouth of armand) that lestat has a new play-thing. by the name of david talbot.

though i had rejected lestat and declared my hatred for him and told him that i could not stand to be in his presence again (which, most obviously, i later reconsidered due to my carnal lust for him still), i am a jealous creature. i would be wrathful to louis if i did not find him so physically attractive.

i must use these hands of mine, these hands that manipulate the violin into communicating the depths of my utter despair through my music, and take a knife instead and cut off david talbot's balls. and then cut out his eyes! and then cut out his heart and then set him on fire and then eat his heart! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

louis, care to join me?
 
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my life is a dark pit of darkness   
07:51pm 14/10/2002
 
mood: cynical
why must i be crucified for my beliefs?

whenever i am at one of those eateries, nimbly nibbling at a cheeseburger to sustain my meagre existence (though i do admit that all of this is a facade), i am persecuted by those ignorant who surround me.

they mock my pallour! surely they do not understand that i am a creature of night, my heart drowned in darkness, and my complexion reflects the milk-white death of my spirit. slings and arrows! why must i face such torment? their laughs haunt me, and i feel rage build up inside of me, a volcano ready to let loose its fiery molten rock upon the blind.

one day, nicolas. for your day will come, when you shall teach all of those the truth and they will suffer just as they made you suffer.

it shall be a grand revolution of terror and blackness, reflecting my inner blackness.

could that be hope? no, i must madly dash all hope away for i cannot humour such a dispicable creature as hope, who deludes all dreamers of their true inner pain and torment.
 
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