Hatred is not something that we wear on the skin like a perfume. It is something that lives inside of us, much like a parasite it feeds on the good that is left in our hearts. Like an untreated infection covered by a bandage.
Whithin the hearts of men and monsters there are many different strains of the illness that is hatred, all terrible and all irrrevokable when unleashed upon those that you love. It never realy goes away, people say to “let go” and “to not carry the past.” when in the most dire cases of the hatred virus eat away at some of the largest parts of you and take over that part of your heart entirely.
The virus has not proved itself to be fatal however there are those who show symptoms at first glance, where others are good at hiding their hatred and cope with the worst of the side affects along with the great fatigue such a burden bears.
It shames me greatly to say that I have been infected with said virus, and at first I could not stop it from spreading throughout my body, right under my clothes, taking over my lungs and most of my organs. At some point I had decided that it would be a good idea to create a barrier around it, a barrier of glass. Not to hide my hatred, but to contain it.
It is clearly visible to anyone that looks at me, they see it in my body, feel it in my presence , and hear it in my voice.
It is now in my life that this barricade was cracked by the doing of another knowing very well of the deadly virus that lays in wait underneath to continue to spread its toxin throughout my body and the rest of the world.
I did my best for so long to keep things contain, but there is no cure that I have found aside from a mysterious substance known as Unconditional Love. This Love as we call it is only abundant in environents that encourage it’s growth and that are untouched by the wastelands left behind by the virus. And the constant search has come up with no leads. In my black and white world a distorded blood red drips from my chest gathering on the floor and smearing onto the very walls.
With what little love I had saved away I will attempt to stitch myself back together once again, always slightly a little different than before. A little rough around the edges.
The virus will remain.
This time however I will cover it in brambles, thorns, and spires of twisted j metal. So that all will know not to peel back the thing inside me in which I am looking for a cure. I will never stop looking, trying to heal, trying not to restore, but replace that inside me which was lost and eaten away.
What happens to a ghost who is consumed by hatred?
Ghosts who are departed that fall to this spectral virus often wind up what we in the community refer to as a “Poltergeist.” A spirit so consumed by its rage that it devolves into something else enitirely. A state of being that cannot be returned from.
It is unfortunate, but there are those out there with the virus that seek to perpetuate its spread, and attempt to push those ghosts over the edge, they lie in wait, for the most opportune moment to strike, when the ghost is nearly dissipated from holding together its form for so long, just before it is able to recover an ounce of the memory it used to be.
I am what I am, You are what you are. Live and Learn, Don’t stop searching for the cure. Don’t conceal the illness. Don’t doubt who you are and let those beasts who would have you become something else have their way with your very soul. Search for love.