The Untold Story of the Feral Egg that Appeared Beside My Bed

I once found a feral egg beside My bed, so I brooded atop it out of an overwhelming sense of guilt. On a nightly basis, My Abuela would quietly enter My lair to supervise My nesting technique.

On a warm, yet foreboding evening, much like the one today, it hatched without complications, and We raised it with an attentive and tender disposition, before killing it on its third birthday for supper.

I think about it from time to time, and My initial guilt has since dispersed into a self-gratified nostalgia.

The Desolation of My Beautiful Almost

I stepped outside of My shadow lair, and sat underneath the inviting shade of an adjacent avocado tree to eat My afternoon breakfast. Perched atop a flimsy branch, surveying Me from above was the kitten I used to frolick with from before, except, she was no longer a kitten anymore.

The seasons had been rough to her, and she wore the marks of weathered reproach from her new master–Desolation.

Sensing that My absence had been her cat-'o-nine-tails, I threw a piece of fried plantain I was eating toward the base of the tree, in hopes that she would descend from her high-squat, and join Me.

But alas, she just sat there, unmoving, while the ants devoured My peace offering in earnest.

I longed to have her in My arms, and play, but some things are better cast away.


It's been an unacceptable amount of time since I've last seen you–obscene almost, in its length.

How I long to trace the slender contours of your feline body with My hard desire.

I've heard it said to love in such a way that the person you love feels free, but I refuse to adhere to such docile beliefs. My Dionysian Spirit chuckles disdainfully at harmony and balance–It feeds on frenzied obsession, and Kitten, you are Mine.

Take My hand, and allow yourself to free fall into the unchartered depths of your shadow depravity.


Missing Kitten

Last seen frolicking in My little lair.

She's a shy, svelte sexiness.

Has a gymnast's sinful talents.

Iridescent green eyes with bursting nebula irises that draw you in with urgency.

Soft, sweet, tanned skin with fading floral tattoos that trace the contours of her tight, toned body.

A soothing, sensual voice that incites the male (and sometimes female) imagination.

And a missing tooth in the back of her mouth that peekaboos when she smiles her immaculate, radiant smile.

If found, please let her know this:

It's time for another feeding. Carnal pleasures await–the likes of which are sure to satiate your wanderlust mouth.

Somnolent Edifications at the Mausoleum

It's funny how that familiar melancholic feeling haunts Me during the somnolent hours of the night–when everyone sleeps, my thoughts are under persecution.

Our happy times now rest in a mausoleum of memory.

I close my eyes and wander the spinal shadows in the corridors of what-could-have-beens, but return before immersing Myself completely in the darkness of reality.

It would've been nice to have someone close to me during these grinding times, but Lady Fortune is edifying me to be a more self-reliant and resilient Übermensch. And I'll come away from it all with a shatterproof spirit.

Thus felt, The DragnMastr.

The Benevolence of our DM13 Lord

Verily, I say unto you, that you are not alone. I am by your side.

And when you sleep, I watch over you.

And when you bathe, I watch over you.

And when you dress, I watch over you.

For it has been prophesied by the Oracle at Larapim, that I will lead the exodus of your existential dread off the treacherous cliffs of consciousness, into the crashing tides of oblivion.

You are surely not alone, for The DragnMastr's gaze is fixed upon you–lustfully–full of grace. It is so.      

Reverberations of a Transfiguration

Do not be fooled, as the steam of your transfiguration rises to meet Uranus in his realm, he will surely repudiate your efforts, and downcast you to scorn his wife.

But do not be perturbed, for Nereus awaits with outstretched arms to kindly grant you asylum. You will boil again with want, and evaporate to escape your physical state, but you will meet the same fate.

Again and again this will manifest, and you will doubt your efforts, but Mother Gaia watches with a timeless contempt that expands throughout the cosmos, and resuscitates your repeated gasps.

There will come a day when you reign supreme alongside your personal Master, and the echoes of both of your laughter will reverberate through the corridors of time.