You Thought I Would Die...
Cthulu has driven me mad. He forces me to write these words so I may struggle to remain sane. Each day and passing night he curses me with restlessness. Sleep is seldom, being mostly drug-induced. Never have I fought a more worthy adversary. His intention could only be more clear: to destroy the Earth and force all to worship him. Howard could not be any more right. He is a force who cares not for good or evil as he is a malicious force truly in a league of his own. I'll never be free of him, and none can save me. I can only dredge on and pray to find the truth. What is the truth, though? Is it that madness accompanies clarity? Why have I been forced to live this accursed existence?
My waking hours are spent between hobbies and fits of furious dementia. My mind has been sacrificed in his unspeakable name. My candor has been all but defeated. My grim attitude towards my own life has grown into malevolence. The God has abandoned me. He pities me none. I've became a beast to him, and he forces me to feel alone. Am I really alone, though? The voices in my head think not. What brilliance I exhibited is drowned out by my disregard for the living. People have become vessels to me. Souls are bought, not owned, and honor is their penance. I stay at the pen each day at an alarmingly increasing rate. How I don't seek to entertain you, even if you find any sort of sick humour in this.
I'll never be free. Smiles have escaped me. I push on solely for the fragments of the tattered truth. The lies I encounter bother me none. There is a greater mystery at play here. The cosmos are my forfeit. My understanding of the universe is surpassed only by my growing curiosity. The garden was always a place to plunder for me. In my heart I know I've became him. My desire is forever to be just his rival. Until my dying day I will seek to finish off the sleeper. If he truly dead but dreaming why in the world does he have this power over me? I curse you, old mate, as you have betrayed me. What promises you gave me were only beneficial to you. You are evil, despite what credit my estranged great grandfather gave you. Evil wasn't interesting to him because he was nothing but demonic, as but are you.
The radio has became my only loyal companion. All abandon me as my insanity increases. The constant banter of the voices on the airwaves drown out my own. You? You could not do as I do. I use my words conservatively in life, hoping not to incriminate myself. I'll admit this, however. He is the same as me. We are cut from the same cloth. Cthulu is nothing more than what I've became. This tongue speaks for me, as does these eyes see. I'll condemn the earth for not believing in me. A scourge is what I am. The waking hours pass by ever so slowly now, now that we are alone. I wish you would just die, truly. Your legend has gone on for too long. You'll never really be gone. Across the cosmos they know how much influence you do legitimately have. You've given me your power, isn't that enough? Am I a God or purely deranged? Both? Neither? Only time will show who is the destined master of the universe. Death will not take me as neither heaven or hell will have me. I'm in a place dug deep into the ground already. It's incapable for the dead to die again.
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