Dür Ktulhu
Member
- Dec 20, 2025
- 37
I have never resorted to self-harm in the conventional sense, but recently, I have begun to practice it. However, not for the usual reasons or in the usual manner. To be honest, gentlemen, I have always felt disgust towards tattoos or anything else used to alter one's appearance -I find it... utterly repulsive and marginal. But there is one thing I have always desired to possess. Stigmata. Oh yes, stigmata are what befit me. I will accept nothing else. And I have begun to carve them into myself. It will hurt, it will hurt terribly -but it is so pleasurable. I feel as though I am about to ascend... You know, I feel like a saint. Kierkegaard was right in saying that Christianity brought sensuality into the world.
I know the Dies Irae by heart, I know the height of the vaults in Santa Croce, and how many blows were struck upon Caesar in the Capitol... And that January day? Do you remember, little people, what happened then, on the third of January, 136 years ago in Turin, when Friedrich Nietzsche went mad? You are all so pitiful, who are you before me? What are you? Ashes. Look and envy: you wear tattoos on your skin-totems of the plebeian tribe - while I bear an entire metaphysics upon mine. This is the aristocracy of the spirit. This is my asceticism. Let years have passed since Stendhal walked out of Santa Croce, and let no witnesses remain in the ruins of the Capitol, yet I am still there.
Push the falling one. — Nietzsche.
If anyone thinks this is a joke -so be it. But you would be fools to believe that I am joking.
I know the Dies Irae by heart, I know the height of the vaults in Santa Croce, and how many blows were struck upon Caesar in the Capitol... And that January day? Do you remember, little people, what happened then, on the third of January, 136 years ago in Turin, when Friedrich Nietzsche went mad? You are all so pitiful, who are you before me? What are you? Ashes. Look and envy: you wear tattoos on your skin-totems of the plebeian tribe - while I bear an entire metaphysics upon mine. This is the aristocracy of the spirit. This is my asceticism. Let years have passed since Stendhal walked out of Santa Croce, and let no witnesses remain in the ruins of the Capitol, yet I am still there.
Push the falling one. — Nietzsche.
If anyone thinks this is a joke -so be it. But you would be fools to believe that I am joking.