do not ever eat the bird
their wings tap furiously against
the ribbed vault of thy palate
do not swallow the incarnated freedom
do not dare to awake me
i do not belong to the sun-worshipping tribe
no! do not feel sorry
i am happier that way

nadja
February 25, 2002

Slice my wrist at the break of day.
Drink of me that you may
Know who I am.

Your words and eyes
Say you are ready
To face all I offer
But you hesitate before
My hand you take......

Do you fear the absence of light?
Why fear the night?
The moon has its own sense of warmth,
That greets us with its silvery light.

Tell me now
Before it is too late
And the blood in your veins
My hunger awakes.

Life without Life --
Immortal Night
Or what death offers
Tis your choice--

As I silently fold outwards from within the shadows surrounding the Inn, I take an opportunity to sense if anyone is around. Even though it would take the Elders a good couple of minutes or so before they pick up on my presence, I decide to make it a quick check, since there is so much to do, and so little time to do it in. Hopefully I'm not too late.

While the train sped to New York, Ethel Brandenbourg was the one object engaging Ernest's mind. He still felt the pressure of her lips upon his, and his nostrils dilated at the thought of the fragrance of her hair brushing against his forehead.

June 8, 2007 (Javno / Ivona Baric & Nenad Hervatin) -- The Austrian "Count Dracula" Hermann Nitsch and the geometry of bloodthirst on the mystery theatre orgies he conceived in his castle.