Weak and Powerless

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Rhythm and the echo of a solitary siren, one that
Pushes me along and leaves me so
Desperate, ravenous
So weak and powerless over you
Someone feed the monkey while I
Dig in search of China white as
Dracula as I approach the bottom
Desperate, ravenous
So weak and powerless over you
Little angel go away
Come again some other day
The devil has my ear today
I'll never hear a word you say
Promised I would find a little
Solace and some peace of mind
Whatever just as long as I don't feel so weak and powerless - A Perfect Circle

Since, the Black album was about to come out and we weren't touring at the moment I decided t would be the best time to go to Norway with Rita. Strangely enough she never wanted me to see her home where she grew up in. So instead of staying at that house we just stayed in a local hotel since I didn't really want to be around those black metal guys for too long anyway.
When we touched down from the airport we immediately decided to drop the luggage off at the hotel. However, instead of going out to eat or to go visit a museum she instantly decided to visit her friends in Helvete. To be quiet honest with you all I never really knew that much about black metal and the whole scene to begin with. I thought it was just some niche genre that almost no one would pay attention to. And it many ways it is, but thanks to The Virgin Suicides and some other notable bands and groups it was elevated much more than it ever should have been. So when we went to this record store where the apparent 'satanic cult' took place I felt a bit out of touch to say the least.
All the people in there looked so dreary and and dead like. They all looked like some bad guy or like some creature from one of those old horror black and white movies or from some David Lynch movie. Either way though it was extremely uncanny.
The shop itself was filled with stuff from the occult. Even though the patrons and the people running the store itself would constantly say that they were either atheists or pagans it was clear where their favoritism lied. It was honestly quiet obvious. However, despite the peculiar interior, staff, and clientele the people who inhabited the place were actually quiet nice and pleasing to be around. Of course at times Rita would have to translate for me what they were saying, but besides the language barrier they all seemed to be cool individuals.
When she introduced me to the people who she associated with the most though that's when things got much more tense than before. They had their own bands, but outside of Rita maybe mentioning them to me once or twice I have never really heard of them or much less even thought of them to be honest. Yet, despite the strange lingering feeling that I got from them that small group of outcasts were the ones to accept her and to perfectly relate to her. While, I never spoken to them for more than a few minutes at most she always spoke very highly of them.
When they invited us downstairs to the basement we were greeted with a barren, gloomy, and an un renovated place that had several stains littering the entirety of the small space. It looked like some deserted wasteland aside from the few pieces of furniture places here and there. Other than a few CDs, vinyls, a record player, and a whole case of beers there was nothing there. Some illegible graffiti that decorated the blank walls nothing was there. It was almost like some bomb shelter.
It was clear I was a bit uncomfortable to say the least, but Rita on the other hand ran down there like a child wandering into Disneyland. Once down there she was most social being in the room which was odd considering she never really spoke outside of a few times which she deemed to be important or necessary. It was like she truly felt comfortable at at home around those people. She was cracking open beer cans and socializing. In those few moments she was the most open and outgoing I have ever seen her. She was laughing and joking around along with actually engaging in conversations. Yet, even when it came to me (her fiancé at the time) she was still quite curt and restrained towards me.
However, all interaction ceased when all the then members of Mayhem showed up. Euronymous and Dead were alive back then, and Varg wasn't in prison for murder yet. Rita immediately strayed away from my side and from the people she was engaging with only to greet them. They on the other hand seemed more out of place than anyone else in the room, including Rita herself. However, they all got along fluidly. But, I guess birds of a feather flock together. They were all pretty gangly and disturbed looking individuals that were all obsessed with morbid subject topics and people. However, out of all of them the only one that screamed danger to me was Vikernes. Dead was eerily quiet, but Varg on the other hand was so outspoken about his distaste for the religious crowd. While, I couldn't really blame him for it (James and Mustaine both had terrible experiences with it themselves) it seemed almost obsessive with the extent that he delved into the topic.
Yet, on the other end of the spectrum you had Rita and Dead discussing murder and suicide cases. I understand that Rita went to college and studied psychology along with crime scene investigation, but this was almost an unhealthy fixation on this topic.
Yet, back the. I felt like I couldn't stop you. You were a siren that pushed me along and left me so desperate and ravenous for you. Being with you here you promised I would find a little solace and some peace of mind. Yet, despite all of this I will never here another word you say. I just felt so weak and powerless around you.

A/N: Sorry for no recent updates. I've been in a program for a future job in the government, but I'm back now and here is a new chapter. Sorry for the delay again.

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