The Promise and The Threat

I'm sure everyone will be tired of this image by the end of the day.

In any case I owe a journal entry for today, even though nothing has really happened yet.
I took the picture up there with my phone while I was on my way to the doctor's. To get there you had to walk through a big metal tunnel that just ends at that scene. I was actually rather happy at that time, despite having to go see the doctor.

So like I believe I discussed earlier, I'm beginning to see the future in a better light. I'm just thinking about cooking and whatever and as girly as it sounds I can't wait to be a housewife :P
I've decided I'm probably best suited to be a kitchen witch. Rituals and whatnot are all well and good but I need a more industrious form of "worship". Which is why I prefer taking walks to inscense and candles.
I think the work itself that you put into the food instills your energy, you don't need to use spells or chants or whatnot. So if I have proper ingredients and a proper mindset I can make good food for everyone.

I also realized just how much I need my sister Cassy. As much as I dislike the company of people I actually find myself feeling attached to her. That makes me happy, because we kind of grew apart after the breakup and now I think we're becoming good friends again.

The other day I was watching Dr. Phil, which was about helping marriages (I sound like a middle-aged woman already!). Anyway, he said if you're having problems, the kind of people you hang around and get advice from should be taken into consideration too. They can sway you either way - divorce or healing. You should think before you listen to the things they say, and not get caught up in it too much. It really made me think, and it kind of made me happy too.
There's always hope.

We begin by coveting

We begin by coveting that which we see every day

I'm tired of this. I hate you. It's driving me crazy, why should I have to strike out at you through all of them when you're here inside me all the time? Why won't you leave me, you horrible, beautiful creature. You're hideous. I can't stand to even look at you anymore.
Why should I wait when you're right here beside me in the first place? Why don't I just snuff you off at the source?

We've been in this room before. Cold concrete beneath us - a blanket, but we don't take it. I know what's coming, and he opens the door. Muscles ripple beneath flesh and he crawls in, every movement a contortion, body flowing like a snake. Is he actually going to do this to us?
"Now you'll see I can finally get you."
We know what's coming but we still don't believe him.
A hard blow and porcelain skin, white and rubbery, hits the floor.
He's really going to kill him?
Up against the wall then down to the floor again. His rage pummels through with every hit. He hates us and this is his revenge.
The poor creature bleeds, blood thick and black on the walls. When will he be through? It can't be long with his rage.
With purpose I grab your head in my hand, this is the last I will ever see of you. You pathetic, hideous creature, limp in my arms. I've had enough.
He grips it's head firmly and smashes it into the floor. Blood sprays out around it and it lies limp, finished, on the cold cement floor.
He actually killed it. How can that happen? If I don't get him I'll be the next. He pants by it's body, black hair sliding down his back as he rejoices. Yes, it's dead, and there's a rock in my hand. He must know how it feels, dying the way this creature has. I spare the formalities and bring it down hard to his head. He falls, dead though he looks no different. I am finally free of him. I am normal, you know.
Walking quickly to get out of this prison I've built. Out of the concrete, out of this wooden passage and I lock both doors behind me. I lock them both so no one can find what's in there - if they do they'll know my secret. They're all hidden away now, all is good. Turn to leave and - No, I'm sure I locked the doors. I'm sure I've locked them and yet they stand gaping before me. I've locked them, I've locked them - I'll lock them again. There, but I'm not safe. I've killed them both but I'm not safe and they want revenge.
How could I think I could get rid of you?
I turn to see the door to the world standing open, and their eyes upon me. They can't know me like this - you can't ruin me.
Did you not see this coat removed from the chair? Distract them with something else. My coat in my hand.
Did any of you in your right mind not see this coat removed from the chair?

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From a dream last night.
They are all the same person - a serial killer.
The beautiful beast is that which he covets - it will not leave him alone, it shines in the eyes of others and so he must destroy it.
The killer is what he becomes, engulfed in the moment.
And at last, he finds he is still haunted, he can never escape.
And he goes insane.

After the part with the coat I forced myself into waking somehow, because I knew it was going to get bad.
The beast was beautiful, truly, and hideous as well.
I believe this is the second dream where I've been a serial killer, except this is the first one where I've been three people at once.

In any case I've dragged this out long enough