Own Your Evil

Own Your Evil

As I scroll through some pages on Instagram, I can’t help but notice a seemingly increasing number of occult-leaning accounts. I get it, I guess. The scary, creepy darkness and all. The “Evil is Cool” crowd. The Dark Arts; sharp, pointy things; goats heads; black candles; they all go together. Shadowy figures doing dark things. Even way back in my formative years, I may have been kitted up a time or two, looked in the mirror, and thought or even said aloud, “You are Death.” What alpha male hasn’t? Especially in the presence of belt-feds, HE rounds, and painted faces. It’s cool in the “14-year-old dark horse comic” kind of way.

My monkey brain then shakes my head. First, take any Satanist/Occult documentary; look at the “Satanist”: pimple-dotted, greasy-haired, Dungeons & Dragons, Magik Card types OR portly, late 1800’s-looking, mustache-twirling villains. Neither are hardly a dark warrior-class of assassins or thrill killers. Disenfranchised, sad, nerds or bad guys from the latest Sherlock Holmes movie. Secondly, and this is the bigger point: Why do people feel the need to subcontract their evil? Why do they feel the need to hitch themselves to some cloven-footed, horn-headed, second-place finisher to validate their darkness? It’s like they know they are full of shit without the devil as a co-signer. Every evil thing I have done, just and unjust alike, I have owned. I will lay hate and deal punishment as I see fit. And I alone will be accountable. I own my actions and when I get to that dark place, that’s exactly where I want it to be. I deem it necessary and it is done by my hands alone. I love skeletons, daggers, snakes, vampire-looking women and virgins of all sorts. But when it stops being a joke, when things need done, it is MINE. My hands, my will, my responsibility, and my fault alone. No one else’s.