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Sangi's Corner

by Wolfgang Weichbrod

Imperceptible to most is something that I have noticed. Something it would seem that all have or overlooked or rather they have failed to see, perhaps it was always there for them just lying beneath but for some reason they could never see it. Perhaps I shouldn’t write this, some part of me tells me so, but I have a compelling desire to share intricacies that are often absurd or somewhat deluded. Vampires I say, and vampires of all kind, what purpose do they use? Can you answer that forthright and without pause?

In argument of my own findings, I’ll state this example. Take artists, writers, anyone who is creative, what makes them so? How are they more special then the others, nothing really sets them apart accept their will, the will to be remembered and creative, which lies and all but is expressed differently, this will, this perceptible entity with them is life. It gives spark unto the imagination, and substance to their thought. So powerful are there thoughts that they not only see them in random order as some do but great myriad of color and form, coalescing with other creative inventions of the mind bringing meaning to the stale random thought, powerful they are. This life created in the mind is sweet and of its own nature has a force all its own, something tangible, something, that can be devoured. Who is to say that blood cannot act in the same manner, the whole of a person kept in such a minuscule amount as to map out their entire lineage and path.

Blood is life and within that substance that rudimentary concept all can be reduced to the element of their making, of all thought of all life. Now what is it, that all vampires need, psi or blood, two elements in such disparity. Is it affirmation of their own existence, or the consumption of what is tangible and alive, the feeding on the life itself. One can see wisdom, creativity, and passion, all concepts are easily identified, but one thing set apart from the rest is missing, and here lies that key. There is only one thing that keeps a being going on, only one, simple and illicit in design, and that thing, so sweet in nature and desired by all is what is coveted so much. Will. Will is what we make, will is what we take, how we bend it, and how it changes us, but without it all function ceases, and the will of another is a powerful thing, it makes slaves, and conquerors, idolics and is waning in all design, dependent on who wields it.

And in all instances, in whatever problems we find, or situations we build, will can always be replaced with want, and want will always lead to destruction, of less or more. Stop wanting, stand still, have no will, and a direction will be presented, almost anew, as if life is affirmed, in thine eyes.

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