The Vampire House

August 9, 2016

Damned. Forsaken and left to the ages, to rot but not die. To kill and destroy but with no succor availed. Condemned.

The bulk of my days in this most recent past, have been spent inside this coffin, this house; imprisoned/entombed by my own want and lack of will. Darkness consumed the light, and hope, held captive, undead by my side. A dope squat shit hole filled with the cursed wretches, made slaves by their unholy lust. 

Squalid, shit-reeking with piss soaked boards jutting up in a ravenous grin, I’d lie entranced/enchanted and get my fix. Inside these walls my soul was lost, I was alive but without life. And I sat idle, powerless,  watching the multitudes of others become paralyzed by this preternatural pit. this insatiable place beckoned  to the lost, the longing and all else that, unguarded, lay there misguided flesh for the taking. 

I’ve heard these places called many things. Dope house, shooting gallery, hell hole, home… But that never seemed to define  this god-damned-temple accurately. Ancient, decaying and feeding endlessly off of the blood of all that entered. It’s visage ravaged by time, the elements and sin. the resident unfortunates now bound to do thy bidding, all helpless and forever forelorn. Used and disposed of. I found hell here on earth, a demon created from bricks and boards, made flesh, by blood. 

Boneshow

July 11, 2016

Bone Show
Alabaster, and ivory white, gilded by flesh/and blood. Useless folks in ‘er meat machines. Who shall run the show? Subjugated to the Skeletal system, all the hard edges and unpalatable articulations. But who’s running the bone show now? 
That’s what I wanna know? Who runs the bone show now?
Animus. And my day begins. Waking from/to strange dreams, I can no longer tell. The phones buzzing at my head and it’s Rose, he wants me to help him out. A box of rigs(like a box of bones). I don’t answer his calls. Best let sweet Rose figure it out alone. I feel this one deep deep down. 
I hang myself in the shadow of the doorway just for a little while. Before I put this system, this machine into gear. To perdition. Where we lead we will follow, the ghost. I wear her like a mask. on the inside. She sees what I see, she hides what I am. 
Leering and peering all the while. Making me call the shots. Go away ghost. Let the shadows do the talking. We need you but for not.
My skull cracks open but the ghost stays put. for a minute. We talk, we think and reason, then eventually part ways. I’ll see you in hell ghost. I’ll bring the bones…
And my mask, it falls. 
Leftover to nothing. And nothing to leave. I pick up where I left off, and switch it back on. Good ol Rose, he keeps my messages full while Time withers fast. cartilage crushes, sinew snaps, bones break down. And Down. 
And like that my woe begotten worries, be gone. 
No more bones. And the days all done, graveyard black and tombstone calm. Burying the last of the newest to come, we drop the Rose and the show goes on in shadows.
Luke Havergal 

This one goes out to the one I love

July 3, 2016

I miss her kiss, the bittersweet sting and the mingling of our fluids. How she would sing me to comatose sleep (she’s the only dream I needed). and then waking up beside her meant that the day would be ok. She ran through my mind and body and assuredly my soul day after day… Her voluptuous embrace, her voice like a choir of angels, and her penetrating intellect and endless imagination kept me enthralled, mystified and always wanting more. She was beautiful, lust inspiring. Without her nothing made sense. Nothing mattered. 

My ancient scourge, my angel. I could die with you in my arms and be happy… 

To know her is to love her…

If marijuana is the girl next door, cocaine is a stripper, and meth is a toxic codependent. Then Heroin is the love of your life. She’s a brunette goddess, loving you unconditionally, through hell and squalor, she will be there to wrap her arms around you and everything else just disintergrates. You can never leave her. You would do anything to stay with her. Your whole world falls apart when she’s gone, even if you manage to make a break, she’ll always be the one. The only one. In the back of your mind. Unparalleled and irreplaceable. 
To know her is to know loss…
You’ll try to stay away. But she’s not hard to find and she’s always waiting with open arms for you to come back to her loving embrace. She’ll make the wrong right, remind you of what you left behind. You might try to keep it casual for a while, but that never works. You’ll get to be back right where you left off. The siren, the succubus, your love. 
To know her is to lose Everything.
Love of my life, I miss you more than I can even understand. But we both know I can’t stay anymore. So this last break is the last. I could never forget you, and you will forever haunt my dreams. 

I hope it was good for you too.

 Tear through this world and you’ll never find another like me, the one that got away, xo

Luke Havergal

Fix

June 27, 2016

“So here’s another story for the fire kids, Tell truth to me the liar bids”

One day I was at my lowest. My shit limit is too far fucked and I can’t get more far fucked. So I thought. This is the story of how I sold my soul. Honest and truly. I was sick. Bad sick. I don’t know if any of yall know what dope withdrawls feel like after hitting a needle with the religious devotion of a 7 year saint. But that was me. All washed and strung out. Used up all my dirty little filter cottons that had collected in my gear box that was chaos. Open syringes, multitudes of empty discarded bags( former dreams) my cooker and a bunch of other junkie shit were contained within. I squeezed the already squeezed and squeezed again cottons in a futile vain attempt to get some semblance of something at least appearing like a shot. I mashed the dirty wet cottons in my dirty unwashed fingers and squeezed them dry, down into the cooker. A yellowish liquid with black dirt like pepper floating in it was what was left in the cooking spoon wrapped in electrical tape. I put my Bic to it to purify it… Haha. After a slow quick boil I throw another dirty used cotton into the bowl, and eagerly draw up, come what may. A barely diluted yellow sucks up into the rig. I’m broke and sick, and the hopelessness of this shot is more for me mentally than anything else. It takes at least ten minutes to spike a vein in the parking lot. All the more frustrating realizing that this is bullshit I’m about to shoot. Piss would be more effective. But I zone into meticulous, methodical, I search the old favs… Tapped out today as per usual, so then I get creative, move to the fingers and the palms. And finally. Pffffffffff, that red liquid ribbon gushes into the syringe. Pay dirt. I’m in. I push down holding my flattened Palm steady. It’s messy and I’m sure I miss a cc or 2, evidenced by the bubling of my skin and sharp pain, but I work the rig expertly so as to get most of the yellow piss water from used up cottons and dirty fingers into my bloodstream. A success for the most part. I untie the bandana from my forearm, and lay back in my car and feel nothing. No relief, no reduction in symptoms. And no fuckin high to speak of…
Mentally it calms me 1/100th of a bit I guess, which is why I took all the fucking time doing it. And with that I’m able to somewhat calm down and attempt to quarterback the day. What do I need to do, how do I need to do it. I’ll do Anything, in anyway, and as soon as humanly possible. 

To those of you without a serious needle habit with heroin or speedballs. Withdrawing feels like drowning. Fuck all this “flu symptom” nonsense. Hell if you had a flu I’m sure you could push through. But imagine your body has gotten so used to something being in it… Like air… And then when it’s deprived of it, it panics, it struggles, it will do anything to take one more gulp of fresh air. Get it now? Try holding your breath. That’s what a dope fiend feels. Only it doesn’t stop there. It lasts for days and days and days and gets worse before it gets better. Understand? That’s why all these junkies are willing to sell all they own, live in squalor, give up everything and everyone they care about. To lose control completely. Hold your breath now. How long could you make it before you’d be selling your shit and begging for just one more breath. On and on and on…
I’ve drowned for days. Died and come out the other side still dead. But living. 
Back to it tho I’m in the car and their are a few things that I still own that define me, that were passed down to me, that I have held on to despite everything.

But, the sickness is on me like a wet blanket. The yellow shot. Shit. I have few options other than to pull a long winded con or pan handle, none of which I have the fortitude to undertake. I take the easiest route. The most devastating. The most dehumanizing. The most damning…

For years and years I’d sold all the records I had at one time adored above all else. I had them all Hendrix, kraftwerk, Marley, dylan, the doors, specials, Kate bush…trust me I could go on and on. They were what defined me at one time.

But now a few odds and ends were all that were left over, stuff no one really wanted to buy at the used record shops and a few things I would never be willing to sell.
Beg, scream and shout! A collection of 60s soul box set was among these rare treasures. I showed up at the nostalgia shop with some odds and ends, vhs and the like, but he was in a bad mood this day and didn’t want to pay me for my squalor junk leftovers. But time was getting late, my nose was running, and that drowning sensation just got stronger and stronger. I had to do what I had to do. Which was whatever it takes to get a fix. So I went back to my car and brought back the Soul box set… I’ll give you  10 bucks he says, smiling.

And I took it. No other options. 10 dollars for my Soul, my funk, my long cherished box set of essential 60s grooves records. Maybe to some this might seem ridiculous. But then you probably don’t know, the pain of selling a part of yourself for a fix. A part you don’t want to give, but you have to. 

I took the money and scored a dime to get right, from the shadier dope house in town. And it wasn’t worth it. I missed half of it and the other half was garbage….

So I started turning the wheels again. Sans soul, how will I get my next fix?

Let me sing to you baby

June 26, 2016

And nobody else but you baby. I’ll sing my guts out, for you, baby. A song like a heart, where my blood is no longer there. No, let me sing my empty heart to you baby. My dying words baby. Falling down deeper and deeper and harder into love like loss, like concrete. Blood enveloping my vocal chords with choked sounds and bloody last gasps. Let me sing to you baby. The nightingales requiem, the death rattle, my dying words, let me sing to you baby, a crimson chorus.

Never

June 16, 2016

ive been honest with you all so far. Going into great detail about the SORDID details of my life. This mess of a life… I assumed that the end had come for me. Anticlimactic and ridden with squalor. Your humble scribe, believing he was damned, believing fate had robbed him, believing/thinking that what had gone before was it/all, and the future would go on, sans Himself… However time continues… 

There’s a great amount of situations, of desperation and pain that I’ve been through in the past years. Perhaps they will go unwritten. Or maybe one day those stories will be told. Maybe by others, maybe (one day) by me. But I’m choosing to move on. I’m choosing to not share that pain, desperation, or any of those situations… So consider the past an elipses…  
…for now.
The struggle and the hardships continue, as they do abound, as unmerciful as I am fatigued. So let us start a new. Allow me to begin again, dear readers, and I will, again, let you back into this sordid life… Renewed, unchanged, and as fucked up as ever.
-Luke Havergal

Sick

June 3, 2016

sorry all. Been a heroin addict for pretty much the duration I’ve been inactive on this site. Tried getting clean a few times but I’d always fuck it up. Now I’m Almost 3 weeks off dope cold turkey, still feel like shit, but still no desire to write…yet so much to tell. 

Ketchup

May 21, 2015

Luke Havergal is back in action. Updates soon. Read up on previous posts to find out what all the fuss is about. Cum ketchup!

reaching out

September 26, 2010

i dont know if i can go on with this. but does anyone really care? please let me know. i have a lot of things i need to sort out right now. i dont think i can can continue letting yall into my pittiful self destructive exploits. i need your input.

bloody kisses

June 15, 2010

i cant believe what has happened. my life as ive known it has gone away forever, and will never, ever return. i know its been a really long time since ive posted. their are reasons for that, many and varied reasons. however, i feel a strong compulsion to share the most recent events of my life with you all like i have never felt before. this time shit is serious. this time i fucked up too bad.

how could anyone ever take a life? you see people in movies killing each other all the time. you hear about war and homicide on the news everyday. but  it’s not an issue you ever have to deal with personally.  hopefully. i dont care who you are, rambo, tony soprano, or george bush…no one wants blood on their hands. NO ONE. trust me, you have never felt guilt until you feel the god awfull guilt that comes with that blood. man is it ugly.

my conscience is sticky black with dried blood.

it started as a joke. that to me is the part that makes me feel the sickest. she was just a joke to me. a stupid game. i didnt know much about this girl and i still don’t for that matter. im not giving you her name or any other personal details. please just bare with me , i know this whole thing seems too crazy to be true. but i assure you that everything happened exactly the way im about to explain.

this girl was really into vampires. haha right. twilight, anne rice, lost boys, near dark, true blood, underworld…all that shit.  a friend of mine is having this party, theirs a lot of crust punks and street kids their, and thrown in the mix is this random ass hot topic corsette wearing goth chick. she was amazingly beautiful. no lie. every guy their was itching to get a piece of her. throughout the night i keep noticing her, i wanna approach her but i don’t want to come off like every other asshole at the party. i hear it through the grapevine about her vampire fetish, and by the way shes dressed you can just tell shes exactly that type of weirdo goth that takes shit like vampires and witchcraft  just a little too seriously. so i make my move.

at some point in the evening i decided that i was going to pretend i was a vampire. i was way wasted at this point and was, like i said, just doing it as a joke. i thought she might laugh about it or at least appreciate my unique approach or something. maybe shed think i was cute? not for a second did i think she would buy it hook line and fucking sinker.

i get myself into a mood so i can play the part of what i think a vampire is like. i even change my voice. but  trust me any normal person could see what a crock of shit my vampiric facade was. it was laughable.

not to her though.

i appoach her from behind so she doesnt see me and i put my arm around her waste, and cover her eyes with my other hand. i breath hot air on her neck and tell her in a deep voice “ive been waiting for you.”

she freezes. she doesnt shrug me off or even turn around. so i stay put too, continuing to breath deep hot breaths of alchol soaked vapor on her neck. we stay like this for a while.  i know she feels my growing erection prodding firmly between her soft buttocks. but still she deosnt move. “ive been waiting for you too.” she says as she reaches her hand up backwards to caress my cheek.

im still in shock that my act is actually fucking working. and its working very well at that. i have her eating out of the palm of my hand, and the only thing i have to feed her is bullshit. i continue with the act and keep trying to be as mysterious as i can. i speak to her slowly and directly using as few words as possible. i lead her to the bathroom. i tell her to not turn around. she obeys.

don’t ask me why i blindfolded her. it was just some sick impulse i had. i got a sick sense of empowerment from controlling this delusional girl. i wont lie,  it was flat out fun for me at the time. i figured fuck it, might as well go all out as long as im playing the game. so i takes off my handkerchief from around my ankle and tie it tight around her head. she acquiesces. im drunk and being intentionally rough and “vampirically forceful” with her as well. she seems to be getting off on it too. she squirms and kind of melts at every touch of my hand and doesnt even raise a finger to me when i start getting really kinky. she lets me rub her asshole and before long i have two fingers forced inside. like i said, she was completely obedient. the next part is where the line got crossed from a joke gone to far to just flat out unforgivable shit.

i tell her to strip and start jerking myself off  whilst sitting on the toilet. she takes off her layers methodically, slowly. too slowly for me too allow with my vaprire logic. so i rip off her remaining garments animalistically and ferociously grab her towards me. i bite mouthfulls of her heaving tits while i press them hard against my feral face. she lets me chew, bite and suck roughly on her soft white body, i cover her mouth when she cries out in pain.

her  small black cotton panties are still on. i rip them off  violently with my teeth as she tilts her head back and quivers with excitement. she slowly snakes her hand down her  curvaceous body to caress her small mound of pubic hair. she reaches down further and pulls out a tampon. she dangles it in front of me then drops it to the floor. she puts her hand on my face again, drawing me into her warm blood wet pussy. and i lick the blood, hesitantly at first. it tastes awful. i put all rational thoughts out of my mind and delve in full force. i lap up her blood and juices like a thirsty dog.

with the lower part of my face covered in blood, i go up to kiss her for the first time.

and thats just the beginning. i’ll have to finish later, its hard for me to bring up all these details. i’ll tell you one thing though, shes dead now. suicide. and it’s all because of me.

LH