I used to write for my demons. Feed them vanity and despair. Feed them anxiety and terror. The fear of being obscure when everybody needs/wants to be noticed. I use to feed them my lack of confidence, and oh! how well-fed my demons were.
I used to feed them my broken heart and all my shattered dreams. And for dessert, the best delicacy: bullying. Those whispers and those giggles following me everywhere.
Even though my demons were more and more well built, they were also becoming quite lazy and with time they started rejecting my sorrow. At some point in my life, my demons actually got bored and fed up from my drama. So they started looking for some more proteins, as my juicy, cheesy existence was way too unhealthy.
So i find myself without my usual companions and then anger took place. Self-pity is gone and anger takes place. So I have new companions. Six-packs, carved biceps and so on. They are my legion. And we start the riot.
I’m the leader of the herd and my anger burns under our feet and in our veins. And it’s boiling for a while and my gang of gym addicts it’s quite happy until, one day, I decided that anger doesn’t suit me and I should change my ways. Some of my fans stayed for a while but it all became too boring so one by one, my bodybuilders fled the nest.
I still feel anger but not enough to gather them back together.
I, then, all changed and with a new perspective on life, became somehow optimistic and somehow narcissistic. The vanity filled my soul the moment I got a few almost true compliments and a bit more attention. But I discovered that vanity works well on your self-esteem if you serve it with limit. And here I go hand in hand with my best demon: a combination of Jason Statham and Johnny Depp and Khal Drogo.
This demon is fashionable, has the taste for good things and fine liquors. This demon is some sort of a gay designer (disclaimer: I have nothing against designers or gay people). This demon brought out some other hidden side of me that I didn’t explore much before. The feminine side.
Even though I am still half lad I, quite often, find myself being an admirable mixture of man mind and female body. This demon made my taste and my self-vision develop in some ways that I didn’t think were possible.
But from the bad company I reached to the stylish company and my evolution trough the hell of self-knowledge was fruitful.
No I have no intention of saying that I didn’t enjoy the company and I will not pretend that I listened to my guardian angel (if he ever passed trough my army of orcs). I know still, that he was there all the way. I think i even saw him giggling a few times.