60 lines
3.4 KiB
Plaintext
60 lines
3.4 KiB
Plaintext
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_______________________________________________________________________________
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_ _ _ _
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((___)) ((___))
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[ x x ] cDc communications [ x x ]
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\ / presents... \ /
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(` ') (` ')
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(U) (U)
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Visions From The Last Crusade
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by Psychedelic Warlord
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>>> A CULT Publication......1988 <<<
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-cDc- CULT OF THE DEAD COW -cDc-
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_______________________________________________________________________________
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The catacombs of my head produce the most wonderful dreams and visions.
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I feel that I am one with my intellect and my soul. It was during these
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dreams and visions that I concocted a notion. It started as something
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small at first, but after every dream it grew stronger, until the urge
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had become too great. No longer could this strong desire in my mind be
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suppressed. Recognizing this fact, my one and only goal in life became
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the termination of everything that was free and loving. Only I could
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realize the true value of loving and expression. Only in my dreams.
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This feeling pervaded everything in my life, yet the first few months
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after realizing my goal, I had done nothing. Then one day, as I was
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driving home from work, I noticed two children crossing the street. They
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were happy, happy to be free from their troubles. I knew, however, that
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this happiness and sense of freedom were much too overwhelming for them.
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This happiness was mine by right. I had earned it in my dreams. As I
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neared the young ones, I put all my weight on my right foot, keeping
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the accelerator pedal on the floor until I heard the crashing of the
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two children on the hood, and then the sharp cry of pain from one of
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the two. I was so fascinated for a moment, that when after I had stopped
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my vehicle, I just sat in a daze, sweet visions filling my head. My
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dream was abruptly ended when I heard a loud banging on the front
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window. It was an old man, who was using his cane to awaken me. He might
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have been a witness to my act of love. I was not sure, nor did I care.
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It was simply ecstasy. As I drove home, I envisioned myself committing
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more of these "acts of love", and after a while, I had no trouble carrying
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them out.
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The more people I killed, the longer my dreams were. I soon quit my job,
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and stayed at my house in an almost comatose state. My dreams grew longer
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and more vivid. They kept me alive and proved to be the only thing
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to live for. I had killed nearly 38 people by the time of my twenty-third
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birthday, and each one was more fulfilling than the last.
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I was never really surprised at how I evaded the police. My dreams
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had taken over my life, and they guided me through the right path, and
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I never had need for fear of police. Or anything, for that matter.
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===============================================================================
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(c)opy-write 1988 cDc communications by Psychedelic Warlord 8/28/88-73
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All Rights, Of Course, Are Shit In Their Worth
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