Hello world. This is Eden, and I do not care to describe to you the unsightly events of my festive period, so I shan’t. Instead, I’ve written you a poem. In the newspaper today, they declared that vampires as a literary trend were over and done with, a passing fad, and now gay people are the trendy thing to write about instead! And this, understandably, pissed me off rather a lot! I felt as though they were trying to will me out of existence, as though I should just go POP like a little soap bubble and disappear in a soggy dribble of broken dreams and congealing spunk, now that my fad is over. Making my whole life into a fad, when I have been ON THIS PLANET for over 192 fucking years! I am older than Big Ben, for fuck’s sake, yet do we declare that London’s emblem was just a tiresome fad and it’s about time we replaced it with a post-modernist rainbow dildo?! The gays have been around forever! Why are they suddenly more exciting than me?!
I find it all utterly gruesome. As such, here is my poem.
An Ode, To That Dickhead at The Independent
So the world doth think the vampire a fad,
But we’ll see how you feel when I eat you!
When I swoop upon you, and you laugh in my face
As you tell me that you’re tired of my race,
That we’re over and done with and dumped down the shitter
LET IT BE KNOWN that I do not GLITTER!
I am not some poncing, sparkling tit!
To be over and forgot!
You may be tired of me and my people
But we shall continue to fucking EAT YOU!
Quite frankly I’m feeling rather glad,
That you believe the vampire was merely a fad
For I’m sick of seeing you ugly fucks
Flouncing about in fangs and a retro tux
However sinister you think you are
Compared to me you’re a saggy bra!
A wobbling, drooping, human tit
So let it be known, you reeking shit
That this vampire will never go away
Even if our species has had its day!
It pleases me, truly, to return to the gloom
The nether-regions of mortal doom
From whence you shall never see me coming
We’ll give your species a RIGHTEOUS BUMMING!
(By which I mean, we shall dine on you left, right and centre, and you will bleed and scream and curse your god, and your mother, and wish that you had never been born as you twitch and gurgle on the city streets, your neck torn right open and all your lovely glistening anatomy falling out of the hole, and your final thought shall be ‘Ohhh, but I can’t be killed by a vampire, they’re so very 2010!’ YOU’LL BE DEAD, AND I’LL BE ALIVE, PISSING ALL OVER YOUR CORPSE! What do you think of that? 😉 )
I’m told that gays are the next big thing
To replace us in popular literature
So here it comes, the big reveal
Could it be that I am mighty still?
For I have lived for a great duration
Do you think me immune to copulation?
Let it be known that I have fondled a cock
Other than mine, in my time,
And thus am I not still relevant?
Must vampires now be so sexually deviant
In order to exist?
Must we gag on dildos and bathe in piss?
Is the vampire pornstar the next cliché
Or is it enough to be just a little bit gay?
How many cocks will it require?
That my species is not forced to retire?
What if I said I was a circus freak
With three massive dicks and a bird’s-arse beak?
Fucking women with my slimy feet?
But I shall not be so cheap!
Let the gays have their day,
And here endeth the lesson –
Oh, poor gays, what will they do to you
In all these works of fiction?
You’ll begin with flair, you’ll begin with panache,
But eventually you’ll be a fool with a cheap moustache
A boring, recycled, regurgitated cliché
And then they’ll toss you asunder!
All your uniqueness plundered!
Well, either that, or they’ll turn you into a werewolf. That’s the way it goes, you see. When you become boring, they turn you into a werewolf, and when that becomes boring they turn you into a physically impossible vampire-werewolf hybrid, so I must warn you, unfortunate gays, that you will eventually have had your time, and you’ll find yourself washed up in a Vegas motel, with a bleeding arse and the hangover from hell, and they’ll tell you that now you’re a gay, trans, non-binary, vegan, feminist, sanguinarian otherkin were-possum from the planet Zumba, because that’s the cool thing now. Far better to resist, I feel, to go quietly into the shadows of irrelevance, than become such a thing…
And so, if our age of glorious vampirism is over, then that is quite all right with me. I shall leave with my dignity. Well, I say leave, but I’m actually not going anywhere. Because I’m a little bit immortal. Problematic, being passé and yet incapable of dying. I always had mixed feelings about being trendy though anyway. It was novel at first, but then the fictional vampire became this ghastly sparkling empty-headed sex doll, and it made me shudder. Nobody was afraid of me anymore! Nobody thought me evil and terrifying, instead they thought I was misunderstood and dejected, and they’d invite me inside for some cottage pie and a cuddle and then they’d give me their therapist’s number in case I needed to talk, and I’d be thinking FUCK YOU, ANNE RICE!! This isn’t how it’s supposed to GO! I’m a fucking DEMON, not some needy, abused orphan! Why isn’t anybody SCREAMING! Ohhh, it was quite ghastly, in all honesty, being trendy. I think I’m glad it’s over, really. Because I know how these things go. We’ll be passé for a few years, but then we will resurface as a retro trend, which is always cooler – a little more stylish, more underground, beloved only by the hardcore fanbase who truly appreciate us for our FIENDISH VAMPIRISM and not just because we’re pretty!
So, I SHALL AWAIT THE DAY OF MY NICHE RETURN, and in the meantime, I shall still be eating your brethren!
Good day to you, reeking mortals! 😉