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| "Myth" Hajime Sorayama |
Definition of a succubus: A female
demon who descends upon and has sexual intercourse with a man while he sleeps. Definition
of Succubus the author: A female Writer filled with a powerful demonic obsession
with having artistic intercourse with her pen and never allowing this pen sleep.
Succubus has been writing since the beginning of her pre-pubescent sexual awareness;
writing of those hidden essences of that inescable spirit of which she was already somehow aware…of that which hadn’t
yet become a part of her conscious retrievable reality. What Succubus was
conscious of was how right it felt to write.
Her
most dominant master, Life, finally granted permission and over seven years ago she submitted to Its will and became
a Writer with a capital “W”. During this time, Succubus has created her own dominion and has built up a
solid readership. Her work has twilled the electronic space within Bloodmoon erotic e-zine, Twisted
Spirit e-zine, three poetry anthologies, and several websites that maintain archives for her stories. She’s
currently creating two novels, but only in so much as they are creating her.
Succubus’
pieces brave the insane bits of this world as well as the edges of the insane bits of her: she’s written into the minds
of anthropophagists, malfeasors and caitiffs. Her works never promise you sweet
dreams, Dearest Reader, instead their allegiance is to that part of your psyche troubled by its own lack of awareness about
its truest curiosities.
Born
on the West Coast at the irascible edge of the sea, Succubus now lives on the island of Maui.
Slave to the pounding of the water, it’s this force that drives all the forces within her work. The water’s relentless violence serves proxy to the truth of her own precariousness. It is the ocean’s cold power that stokes the heat of her pen, bestowing upon this pen a certain insomnia
of being. Thus, Dear Reader, should it make you feel comforted, not that you
deserve to be, Succubus never has sweet dreams to promise herself either.
MESSAGE TO MY READERS:
Many have asked why I write what I write, so....
I write what I feel, what
I think. I delve into those dark dusty corners of myself, digging out the skeletons, to give them some air and light, to express
all those icky and evil thoughts in a safe manner, allowing parts of myself to be exposed, studied, learned about. I write
not for an audience, but to understand myself, to please myself. So if you find what I write to be different than what you
would care to read, keep this in mind.
By writing what I do, I am not condoning acts that the less enlightened may
attempt to commit. But I am condoning the thoughts, ugly as they may be, that I believe are truly a part of the human animal.
Tasteless as these aspects may be to you, keep in mind that any attempt to understand our violent natures will only serve
to enlighten us, while ignoring the base animal nature of humanity is at best dangerous--ignorance breeds fear, and blinding
our eyes will only create a bigger playground for the sick of soul. So I choose not to turn my back on my own base nature,
or on the violence I see all around me, but rather embrace it, in hopes of understanding, learning, and growing.
--succubus
if
you have any questions, please e-mail me at:
succubus27@msn.com
CALL
IT MURDER
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Call
it what you will
I call it murder...
of a thought, an idea, a person
It doesn't really matter
if you think
I'm right or wrong
It doesn't matter what you do
to try and stop me
Regardless of who you try to make me be
I
will break free
I refuse to bow my head
for your scorn and disapproval
I refuse to bare my throat to the blade
of conformity
None can stop my thoughts,
My words will not be silenced.
So cut away,
lash out in word
and deed
take your best shot at me,
and watch me smile through the blood
this pain is nothing to the life
you'd
have me live.
Now that, is murder.
by succubus
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