male, 24
aydin,
Turkey
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Registered: 4/03/05
Logged In: 12/25/08
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Latest Journal Entry: I January 15, 2008, 01:31pm
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I love everything that belongs to me, all my stuff. I love my books, my music, my pretty china, my coffee machine, my raincoat, my old, soft green blouse. I hate anybody who would steal, destroy or disorder my precious stuff; why wouldn't I? What value could such a creep have that would exceed that of my heavy stoneware mug, my perfect leather bag? Contingent on all of this, I love the world. It's so beautiful, so perfect a setting for my God, Me. I love mountains, the sea, acres of trees without a single house, rows of houses all antique and charming, museums, fog, delicious nourishment, quiet afternoons, star-filled nights. If only there weren't all these anti-life bastards who want to fuck it all up, who hate themselves so much they have to destroy the source of their own sustenance. I hate them. Only in the depths of the Black Flame in my heart is it known how much I hate them and what they've done to the world, these library-burners, these child-molesters, these people who, as Charlie said, kill things that are better than they are. When they ask why we hate Christians, can they ever really understand the answer unless they love as we do, love with the dark, Satanic love of life and self? 
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