Angel Alucard

  Back in the day, I used to worry a bit less, care a bit less, yet I still thought a little bit too much. Back in the day, I also used to wish it was everything different: me, people around me, life. Back in the day, I used to wish I was someone else, I wish I loved someone else, I wish I wished someone else. I gave you a little of myself. I gave you the end to your curiosity, I gave you your first experience with a man, I gave you me whole. I kept on saying "no, no and no" and you kept on insisting "come on, show me what you can do". You're younger and I am older, you are (or were?) a straight boy and I am a gay man. I gave you whatever you wanted and got a big nothing in return. It's OK, I'm not expcting anything either way. I used to publish pictures taken from the Internet and I used to don't worry about it. Then came a time that I started worrying about what others would say about me. I would worry about what others would think. Then here i am ...

Message me. I see the difference between us. You're young, full of testosterone, straight. I'm eleven years older, full of experience, gay. You tell me you are curious. I am tired of giving experiences to guys like you. I've been there too many times, done that too many times and now I am tired of that.  My response showed you my lack of interest right from the beginning. Quite possibly, you've gone through other profiles and found someone to delight you with a warm mouth. It's not my business.  I have been putting myself aside many things lately. Like I've already mentioned, I've been there and done that and I am no longer willing to do it again. Not now. I'm tired of way too many things. And yet, I'm not surprised with what happens. The more time passes by, the less surprised I am. The more time passes by, the less willing and receptive I am to people, their desires, their curiosity.  Don't get me wrong. It's all cool. I won...

No one gives a damn. No one knows either. I feel the night passing by the music that I listen to, I feel the melancholy burning in my soul. One cigarette after the other. One thought, another one and even a third one. They race like maddened horses. No one gives a damn. No one even knows. They see through me and some have even chosen to try it out. It wasn't in that night, but I an aware it'll happen. I am OK with that - the desire of one is the desire of another one. It harms me not. It kills me not. They see through me. They don't see in me. They don't realize how deep my soul goes, they don't feel the madness in my heart, the sadness in my life. People aren't aware. I am not reflecting everything in me anymore. I don't hide. I don't open the game up. I live according to what I am, to what I feel. And it's something. It is a big something.

Of darkness and dark desires. Of nocturnal creatures, of madness and erotic feasts. Threatning to bring dark creatures to their old glory,  Lizbeth Gabriel  brings us this book of short stories, wonderfully written, full of darkness and moments of undoubtelly good humour. The Theater Of Dusk  is the right book, if you're seraching for all of the above in a single book. NOTE TO READERS: Independent published authors survive from reviews and often people lose nothing by reviewing the amazing works that come accross their hands. If you're a reader of this book, please care to write a review about it on the website. Thank you so much!

A bad, mad, sad creature. He walks the streets of the city, under the cold rain. He walks the darkness of the woods, under the pale blue moonlight. Creatures. They walk around. Little shinning eyes in the darkness. Noises. Something groans. Someone moans. He doesn't fear and keeps walking, as there's no danger. Nothing's dangerous for this insane creature - or it's too dangerous, but the eyes are kept shut to the facts. He sees nothing. He feels the heat of naked bodies in the darkness. He feels the warmth of sex being made, the sounds of human's nature. He past walks. There's nothing in the darkness. There's nothing to fear.

It bites! In one of these lonely nights while I was writing a few poems, you came across my mind again - I've promised myself that I've left you go, that I wouldn't be writing to you again, about you ever again! After this long morning and a night with a very short sleep, here I am at my aunt's house, listening to this song - somehow it reminds of you, although we've never been from each other! You're just a dream of mine, someone that I think that has been more present in my life than I could ever judge: before our conversations online with a web camera turned on and naked bodies, I believe that I have seen you in a train headed to the North of the country. One of my older paintings makes me think and believe that it's you. I've seen you two or more times in that train, when I was a regular costumer of the Northern line. I have promised that I wouldn't leave you to disturb or annoy me ever again: your car has passed by me in one of these ni...

I will not be nobody's puppy! No man will put his paw on me. No man will rule my life. If there's something I really don't want, is to be anyone's pup! I don't want to get this "hunged"! You'll have to get born 100.000, 1.000.000 times to be my master! I am like the wind, I amlike the sea, no man can grab me between his hands. If anyone picks me in his hands, Ill drip between their fingers.  I am a chimera: a mytical creature. I am the myth that someone has heard about, but that has never really seen. Through the mist, tales about me are told, but where does the truth ends and begin the lies? Where are the facts about me or about my existance? Through the mist, my tales get lost. The sea mist gets up in the morning fog. My taleis told one more time! The city of my tales, which one is it? No one dares to name the city. No one dares to say it's name. In my city, men leave their uniforms aside and I dress them in leather. Thei...

I wanna get out there... The wind blows and it is cold, but I want to start dancing with the wind! I want to feel it embracing me, taking me away, to a world that I have almost forgotten. A long time ago, I used to dance with the wind! A long time ago, I used to kiss it!! Our tongues used to get involved with each other's. My hips move involutariously in the chair, while listening to this song. Somehow, muysics in Portuguese or Spanish always makes me feel way better and way more inside my own environment. Music with a beautiful work of guitars, with great rhythms... Oh, how many times have I walked the streets listening to that black lady singing (Buika, she is!), some of her musics full of longings and mournings, but still the music rhythms made me want to dance, as the tears wanted to roll down my face! I want to feel a lover's tongue in my neck! I want his hands in my dick, while he's rubbing his hard-on in my butt-chins! I want to feel his hands all over my body, a...

I think that things aren't that shocking! I am not any hottie! I am not a hunk! I am not a "butterfly" or  "little flower"! Almost kidding (almost serious!), I have said that I am an homophobic faggot! I care not on being gay, I do love being gay, I do love men, but I couldn't stnd other gy dudes around me: I tend to shoo them away! I have been introduced to a few gay dudes in my life, but I mostly prefered to stand alone, than to have them around, especially if they have the "broken wrist" on! I have found a profile of a very sexy dude, with all his muscles on, with a body filled with tattoos! The text of the profile was a very nice one, someone who could defend all those who would like to shock and shake the world! Sexy dude, openly gay: shocking?... It has been for me, I have to say! I have learned that, although I am openly gay to friends, it's for the best to keep shut and quiet about your sexuality: the place I live at is a very hars...

I'm here writing this entry, after posting a comment at Fernando Ribeiro's blog. He posted one text about the most truthful things that happen in the Portuguese music market and I started thinking and decided to post a comment... I surrended to his words and my brain started working in all of that... I posted a very short entry in the diary of my hi5 account and I am still numb, with no words... Things that are so real, that they could even scare the most common of the mortals... People usually to say "chase your dreams", but when you do it, they bite your head off. About the gothics and the metal fans which wears their "metal" clothes, people also use to say that it's just a phase, but like I wrote on that comment, I'm here, after a huge storm of depression, self-mutilation, and a whole bunch of other things... I don't want to write them again!!! I'm here, I paint, I write, I sing and I do a lot of other things which makes me happy and I d...