What Dreams Wrought

Is this a joke or fucking awesome?!

I’m dead…sort of. Silver lining is that my portfolio just went through the roof—does it make me a bad person that the dead part doesn’t bother me as much? Or maybe it makes me a bad person that I treat human like cattle now. Then again—I may have done that before, now it’s blood, then it was money. I guess I’m a new kind of monster. Ironic really – I was accused of being a blood sucker before I was turned. HA! Maybe I should look that fucker up and let him know how right he was.

Regardless, the path here was less than fun and something I don’t intend on dwelling on, therefore, I’m going to look forward—to my awesome fucking future that now doesn’t end with mortality. Jesus. I feel drunk on that knowledge. I have all fucking eternity to build an empire.

Slight downside—it does look like I have to deal with a lot of people to get there…or rather a lot of blood suckers. In addition, Mr. Party now appears to be my, I don’t know, brother? vamp bro? whatever. He’s certainly an eyeful, but knows it. I plan to tread carefully there. My “official” sire is also quite the eyeful. I’m sure he’s already onto my little game of seduce the boss. Heh, I’m sure despite the fact that he can see my motives he won’t mind.

One thing I am incredibly pissed about, however, I had a phenomenal accountant. I mean top of the line. He was fabulous with his hands—and his numbers. But now that I’m dead I’m going to have to track down a new one. Yes, officially dead. Fucking dead. Guess I won’t be going to the Governor’s ball this year after all.

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GMJJ

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