Nephilim. And Bane.

.
.
Not all of them are bad. I cannot express this more strongly. Or, I am evil. Yes, yes, foolishness. Hush.

I may be wrong, mortalling, but I am not evil. Further, though I may be wrong in small details, I am sure I am not wrong in the long run. I know where I am going, I know my Master, and I bow to the only “One”. As hard as bowing to any Man, even the son of man, was, I have done so. Fully, strongly, faithfully, and fully, I have kneeled to God. Yet, too, I know I am not human. Not fully. Even if I am what I am for no purpose, I yet am what I am. Foolish, of course. Superstitious nonsense, of course. That does not change reality. I am what I am, if I am not Who I Am.

I see that Bane has died. I have been avoiding the notion. I must admit, when he said he was dieing, I doubted. He stopped allowing me to post. I know why, or believe so. It has to do with something few of you know about. He let several things pass, but when I posted to a place he visited, he lost his interest in allowing me to even post on his site. Perhaps he knows better now, perhaps not. Perhaps he was right. And, no, it has nothing to do with anything most of you know about. Perplexing, perhaps Deb knows. God does.

I regret his death. I had stopped reading his blog, ended my link to it, and had avoided any thoughts of such. And yet, even such as I know a brother, or cousin, or something. Our pissing contests about who was darker aside, we both knew, I believe, that we both knew. Past certain points, the darkness of the pot and kettle mean nothing. Their darkness swallows light, both of them. I would like to think I have walked away, broken and busted and ugly, but alive and choosing other than that. I like to think, in spite of his insistence, that he did too. Why? Because blood is blood, and if his blood cannot be purified, perhaps mine cannot be either.

Yes, I love Bane. I will pray for him. I hate him too. The bastard turned away, let me go, just because I am what I am, and that I sometimes quite enjoy it. It has been eating me since I first heard the news. It is everywhere. I could no longer hold my tongue. Now you know… you know half the story in any case. The rest will no more be known than I would allow a Freudian slip, or any other kind. Damn, I really don’t know what else to say, except that I used a contraction against months or years of not allowing such in my blogging (though I do use them in comments on other blogs and rebuttals to comments on my blog). I guess that is as good as it gets. A little random chaos for one such as him.