There was a time when I had a bad case of eighth-grade syndrome. I spent my days absorbed with the Key of Solomon, the works of Aleister Crowley, Satanism, and a plethora of other things, but primarily with Norse mythology. I believed in magic and he occult. I was that kid.
No one understood me. I was different. I was special.
I stopped believing that long ago. I’m part of working society now. My soul has been broken, ground, and tamed so completely. I’m one of the people I once spoke of with scorn. Unfortunate, yes, but alas, this is the course for us all.
Why do I feel so empty?
Joint with UTW.