Sunday, March 8, 2009

Knowing fear, embracing terror.

You will know me by my long black hair.
My pale skin the colour of bovine milk.
My piercing eyes are deadened by the harsh fluorescent.
You have been visited in dreams
My dreams are oft called nightmares.
My nightmares are the stuff of dreams.
You scream my name when you scrape a knee
My heart is the colour of my hair
My soul as blank as my bovine milk skin.
You ask who knocks at your chamber door
But I am gone.
Bovine milk...

That was a poem.
Your heart is near to bursting, and the tears welling up in your eyes are a sign of things to come.
You will read this blog and you will know.
You will know all.

The following is a brief glimpse of me.

I have Brothers that may have directed you to this site. I don't write to be read. I write to convey the melancholy of dead hope.
My Brothers, they are two of Three. I am the third.
Triplets from the womb. Alas, I was born seven months premature. The other two stayed within her, the Mother.
The Medical Practitioners claim that my early evacuation is the result of my chronic sorrow. And my need to wear black.
I wear cloaks, for the world needs more things to billow against the cold winds. And I am always cold. The high cost of being the oldest of three.
Brother two of three, for I am one of three, is called Yes. The third of three brothers is called Andrew.
I am Dandifer Fop. People may call me 'Dandy' But I prefer 'Mephistopheles' or 'Agamemnon' or 'Dandrew'
I am shamed by the moments of joy the other two recklessly exploit. I stay away from them as much as possible, though The Mother asks for us all to return to the ancestral home in South Minneapolis on Christian Holidays and the anniversaries of Births.
Or to Mow the Lawn and help lifting the things that are almost as heavy as my brow.
I am not cheerful or cocky like Brother Yes. Though, he has taken to giving advice to people who think they are clever. I give advice, too, but I am not long winded like he is.
Andrew is long winded as well, but he is moody and closer to me in that regard. He bounces back to some lucid plain of functionality, however. Whereas I fall deeper down into an abyss where my own demons tear at me with claws made of mistakes and rip flesh with teeth made of rejection.
The only reason I am starting this WebBlog is at the request of my many many lovers.
I can sometimes be seen filling in as host for my Youngest Brother's cleverly titled variety show, The Monday Night Comedy Show.
There is no more I wish to say at this time aside from the fact that I am a Freshman at Seminary to become a Priest. Though there is precious little happiness I glean from this Mortal Coil, I do enjoy Tacos and iphones.

Stare darkly,
Dandifer Fop