Morning. I'd say Good Morning, or Guten Morgen (in German), Buenos Dias (in Spanish) or Mangwánaní (For the select few Zimbabweites amongst you). But alas, in order to say Good Morning, it must first be a Good Morning.
Feeling rather exhausted and enervated (a word that surprisingly does not mean one has lots of energy) from yesterdays antics, and note; I refer to the emergence of both my blog children, not unmentioned after party with blog children's half/step father, I collapsed into my luxurious collection of bedstuffs, thoroughly warmed by my electric blanket, and reflected upon the contents of my day before succumbing to the marvelous world of REM time. (And no, I make no reference to the band).
Unfortunately for me this evening, the world of REM time was not as marvelous as previously mentioned. Instead, what is usually filled with distinctive memorable dreams was filled with merciless, unrelenting demons.
It all began with having received a visitation from one of the minions of the Devil himself.
There was a knock on the door of my humble abode, sometime that fell between after dinner and before midnight snack time, and there, on my doorstep stood, a nefarious minion of not so gigantic proportions. (I always imagined them to be much bigger... but this one, although male, was somewhat effeminate). This nefarious minion had taken up residence in a mortal body of someone I knew; it is credit to my reputable demon spotting ability that I was able to see the minion within the body of the mere mortal in question.
The appearance of such a minion did not alarm me, but instead, piqued my curiosity and it was my curiosity that caused me to invite the creature into my home. (Luckily, I still had 7 of my Kat lives remaining) The mortal then confirmed their possessed status by declining coffee, something which aforementioned mortal would never have done.
It was only when the minion secured some one on one time with me in the kitchen, away from the safety of my other house guests, that I began to feel somewhat apprehensive and could feel an uneasiness growing deep within my bones.
I quickly became entranced by the minions deep cavernous eyes and allowed him to plant many a verbal seed of doubt within the fertile soil of my mind, he loquaciously continued, feeding these seeds until they began to entangle their roots around my poor unsuspecting brain.
Having completed his work, the minion decided it was time for him to take his leave and did so quite peacefully. At this stage I was oblivious to the damage he had caused. My evening progressed. c0mandr and I celebrated the birth of Arsenic and Jubilation, our lovechild. 3AM arrived and so too did my REM time.
Unfortunately REM time increases the growth speed of seeds of doubt (similar to the way steroids increase the performance of certain sporting celebrities) and it was not long before the thrashing, night sweats and searing pain began to take hold interrupting my precious REM time and jerking me back into reality on more than three separate, equally as shocking, occasions.
It took every ounce of strength that I was able to muster to construct my own sword of darkness within my tampered mind, to vanquish the demons who hatched from the seeds that were planted by the nefarious minion who visited me yesterday eve, but dear readers, I remain hopeful that I vanquished them all. I think I have learnt my lesson that despite how strong I think I am, minions of the Devil himself will always overpower me and thus should not be played with, no matter how much my curiosity is piqued. I have learnt my lesson. That is all. x.