Life is pain, life is misery, to live is to wait for death. Yet here we are, all of us damned to breathe and even more damned to think. Our thoughts betray us, our own souls beckon for the hell they can already sense. We are dead but we still walk among the living... We are decay but we are still whole... We yearn for the pain but are frightened by the pleasure we receive from it... Indeed we are not worthy to be called human, not even animals... We are the very shadows of darkness, we live to die, we die to become, we are damned but we are also holy. We know what awaits beyond and in our own wisdom we keep silent for they are not ready to see the truth, a truth hidden by the darkness of an empty void. Who are we to damn others, the sickness we carry is ours alone, we mist bare it, we must nurture it, we must allow it to consume us. But all this... all this misery, all this sadness, is it worth it? Is it worth being as damnable as us? Yes as long as we can flex on the less broken for they are gay and lame, so I ask thee who deserves to carry the torch of darkness if not only a single supreme damnable soul? I demand a vote, a vote of pity! Who here is the most damned? Who is not gay and lame but cool, mysterious and like smart and poetic and stuff? I call upon you oh people of the light, reach in and pull the misery out (no homo) let us see who is indeed the one true Goth of OLF.
