It's plain now that I have an unbridgeable estrangement from most other human beings. It could be a blossoming mental disorder, maybe something schizophrenic, but I feel that I'm losing consonance and responsiveness inch by inch. For the sake of brilliance, I stay away and occlude myself alone in my own house with literature and piles of essays and when outside, I do just the same—without physical walls. Even as I look back at recent prior entries here, I can hardly believe at times I wrote those rabid musings. I must be sick; that couldn't have possibly have been me. I can faintly recall my English instructor asking me upon reading my poetry for the first time, "How did this happen [to me]?"  Though I could be wrong, I took it as an implication that there's something asymmetrical and borderline mad about me. Now that I think about it, it seemed almost a little crass of her. I didn't even know how to answer, at least not briefly. I tend to get longwinded because unless I have a lot or something of some significance to say, I usually won't talk at all. But, it was the collective fear of my environment and upbringing, going into shock, lowering my guard when I shouldn't have, subsequently trusting the wrong people, a display of sympathy that nearly claimed my life and resulted in a lifelong scar across my chest afterwards, and a nifty little piece of memorabilia from the Exorcist III.
So, what has traumatized you to the point that you can no longer live a psychologically or emotionally normal life, yet maybe has ironically amplified your insight and artistic undertaking light-years beyond all you previously were? Well, the way I see it is that if I'm going to reveal what keeps me wide awake at night, I might as well get a free Benighted in Sodom CD out of it from Matron himself. For those unaware, Matron, foreman for everything and anything Benighted in Sodom related, is holding a contest of sorts for entries from listeners to be submitted to him by the 7th of October (no later, no exceptions). Matron's contest calls for Benighted in Sodom listeners to submit a handwritten page long story of personal trauma, disgust, horror, and pain you've underwent or have witnessed in your environment. I believe he's choosing between 15 to 20 stories to be scanned and used as the liner notes in the booklet of the upcoming "Fort Lauderdale" album at the end of this year. That's right. Your personal story of dystopian discovery will be printed in the next album. Whether or not your story is chosen, you'll receive a special gift. The chosen few will receive the gift, the CD, and personal responding letter from Matron. Of course, your anonymity will be retained, so be as explicit and detailed as you can be—bear the mark on your soul, reveal your hell.
I'm doing it because I'm told I'm a fairly competent writer, I really respect Matron and the band and love the music (along with his other projects), and because I've nothing to lose and something to gain: empathy and connection with the other writers, so perhaps a chance to ascertain where I stand in the human race (if I still have a place in it), plus, a fucking free Benighted in Sodom album.

To anyone that cares, here is…

BiS's MySpace:
[link]

BiS's Facebook:
[link]

Matron's blog:
[link]

Contest details here:
[link]