dawn sees me withering and writhing as the early morning light feels like hot knives, i'm in deep dark vampyre mode and the last thing i need is light, religion, holy water and garlic toast, in fact all i want is to stay in the dark. but the scent of blood hits me like a irresistible force. something in the old dna flips a switch. a spark ignites some sort of cellular fire. i awaken fast, go through my morning rituals fast, i move through saturday morning duties fast, i meet all known responsibilities fast and then i prepare for sustenance. 

a snort of it fills my body with an unholy ecstacy. if demons sung, if pain were pleasure, if the inversions were diversions and the perversions just versions of virgins, that pure flesh scent. angels dancing on the head of the pheromone queen. i've had compulsions before, let's face it i follow my obsessions to their dead end. drugs, girls, books, music, philosophies and arts. all these i know have their own limitations, so as i ride the face of the shockwave, that presence we call now, the moment, the very expanding force that travels into the unknown i can focus my attention upon it perfectly and nothing else matters because everything is known. life, death, life, death, we are leaving or returning, it's all the same in the end. but it's interesting to play with perspective, especially as a station approaches. 

reincarnation, incarnation, everything is in flux. heightened sensitivity informs me, i am a shockwave rider. i could do anything but i'm un-paralysed by non action. if i were a werewolf i would howl at the moon but when you are a vampyre it's the sun that makes you howl, with it's ancient light illuminating all the dark corners, it's pathetic photon signature and it's blinding truths, liberating and banishing. 

i'm faster than night, faster than light, i can beat the looming oppression of  the visible spectrum, 400 to 700 nanometres by slowing down my existence or speeding it up. life comes fast, so it can deceive you. with it's thinly disguised brutality and confidence trick. you say there's nothing up it's sleeves. but the truth is everything is up its sleeve. everything.

there's no fucking escape, you cannot shut your eyes, you cannot out fathom it or second guess it. fate you can hate, but luck you can love. one cancels the other. and that's the deal, as soon as you get a face. that's the hand that keeps us equal.

and when the sun comes, it shall destroy my memory. the material vessel will rot and rejoin the earth from which it comes, and the nutrients it creates will feed the flowers and trees, and sustain the creatures and thus eternity lies within a grain of sand. i don't fear it, but i feel it. absence, it's a killer man, it's a comedown.