Feeding.

The act of consuming blood. I think it should be called 'drinking', but who am I to go against 19th century folklore?

In this blog I'm going to concentrate on the act, the ritual, the event, and ultimately, the cost to the person who feeds.

When I feed, I treat the event with great reverence. It's a 'Christmas Day with family' level of reverence. It's special. It matters. It means something. This isn't Lon Chaney Jr. jumping out of a doorway and sinking his fangs into a passing screaming woman and then disappearing into the night. And if things get fucked up through lack of care in its preparation, it can ruin the entire feed.

Feeding for me is an incredibly magical life-altering event, not life-changing, life-altering. And always has been despite the 1000s of times I've fed. And there have been 1000s. And every single one. Every one. Has meant the absolute world to me. The anticipation, yes. During, yes. After? Not so much, but that's another story.

Recently, after abstaining from drinking blood for six years, minus one or two minor infractions, I've fallen. I'm feeding again. I don't have the words to describe that in a simple paragraph, but I described it here:

www.fetbook.co.uk

Little Red Riding Blood.

Perhaps if I was offered a banquet of blood wrapped in the sweetest of things, I'd indulge myself fully. Unless I was abstaining. Which in this wonderfully vampiric world may happen. And before a paid a visit to Red Riding Blood, I was six years clean.Those around me, my kin, my clan, my fellow vampires, have already fallen. The kind that'd happily lick the rim of a toilet if they took a fancy to the girl whose period spattered it. The kind of creatures that could bring you to your knees simply

I'm not going to pretend I didn't enjoy feeding on Red Riding's blood. I fucking loved it. I love her. Deeply mutual. She makes me feel utterly inconsequential. I'm a molecule occasionally orbiting her pleasure, and I've known her, always.

I do remember how lovely it felt to feed, and how deeply it mattered to me at the time, but I also know what it's cost me. The folklore is true, drinking blood fuck's up your ability to be in the day.

During my six-year abstinence, after my bloodlust went dormant, I spent those years walking in the day, walking in the sun, walking in the towns and the cities and enjoying all of that life. I loved it. I really loved it. I felt normal. I felt wholesome. I felt whole. And during that time, I watched the dawn rise and each time it felt like nothing I'd ever felt in my existence before. The dawn connected with me so deeply I felt God himself had reached down and pulled me into heaven and, for a time, for a most beautiful time, I felt I had a place in His world, but since falling and feeding, I've lost all of those things now. I've lost them, and I'm back to living in the shadows.

I've written of the shadows many times and the pleasures within them.

Nevertheless.

I want the light. I want the day. I want the sun and until this bloodlust leaves me, this addiction, I'll not know the day again. And I need those days and the daylight within them, I need to be in all of that again. I want that more than anything right now and until my body is cleansed, or my penance is served, I'll not know the day again in the way I experienced it before my last fall. It was so beautiful, and to lose it has hollowed me out:

www.fetbook.co.uk

Outside.

I look at the ground beneath my feet as I walk, knowing how old each single step I take is and how long the earth has known my footfall. I look up and gaze upon all the people I see near and far and realize that if everyone whose life at that moment was shorter than mine vanished, there would most likely not be a soul left to see.The world becomes a pleasant playground and kindness is at the heart of my life. I have a smile for everyone, kindness for everyone, time, for everyone, and I wander, t

To live the way God wanted me to live, and then to feed myself and lose it all. To become, once again, a creature in fear of the sun. I'm ashamed. Deeply. I have been since I fed.

From experience, I know in time if I abstain from feeding, I'll be able to walk in the sun and the day again. But I'm not there yet. The migraines and light sensitivity are still ruining my pleasure of being outside and the sun seems very distant.

I'm sorry God. Truly. I am. I miss you. I miss the dawn. I miss the world.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OoC-D_CyqgE