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My heart is black, hideous like a creature of the night. No light can shine through, no joy can penetrate the impervious shell. I hate for no reason, hate feeds my insatiable appetite for doom. I want only to kill, the sight of blood, the mere smell of it sends me into a rage. I have the craving there is no denying it and the power it has over me is unmistakable. But it wasn't always that way.

  San Francisco in the late sixties was known for peace, love, and rock and roll. The hippies thrived in the Haight Ashbury district of town, smoking pot and practicing free love. “If it feels good, do it” was the motto of the day, so I did, I did everything that felt good, those were the good times.

  I was living in a one room dump near downtown San Francisco and China Town, working as a street musician, occasionally getting work as a sideman in a few clubs in the area. I ate when I had the money, bathed at least once a week, usually on Saturday, and partied all the time. There was always somebody with some weed, some wine or beer, looking to have a good time. We lived to party, in the moment, on the edge, pushing the high as far as we could.

  Playing for coins on a street corner wasn't always a great gig, but I managed to scrape by somehow, sometimes begging for money to buy food. But one thing for sure there was never any shortage of chicks wanting to hang out, party and get high with me. They came from all over the country to join the hippie movement and I was only too happy to oblige them with some free love anytime they wanted it. Short chicks, tall chicks, fat chicks, skinny chicks, black, white, brown and all shades in between, they were all right with me.

  Most of the time I didn't even know their name or if I did I didn't remember it for long, unless the sex was really good. I must have had a couple hundred women in the course of a year, believe it or not, but one in particular caught my eye. She was about five five, ninety pounds soaking wet, with dark hair and extremely dark eyes, always dressed in black. But there was something about her that was particularly attractive to me, I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

  She used to hang around and listen to me sing, throwing a few coins in my case from time to time. I wanted her more than any of the other chicks, but sometimes you should be careful what you wish for, you just might get it.

  Finally coming around to my way of thinking she agreed to come over to my dump to get high and get it on, which followed getting high, it always did. Smoking pot was the worlds greatest aphrodisiac, it was a foolproof way of getting laid, it never failed to achieve the desired result. So I was in like flint with this girl, I even cleaned up my place a little, so as to make a good first impression, something I never did. As I said I really dug this dark chick, her name was Janis, just like Janis Joplin, I thought that was really cool, I liked her name.

  Janis showed up around eight, looking hot, and I was ready for a big night. I had a bag of primo weed and two bottles of the best wine I could afford, which wasn't much, but it would do the trick I was quite sure. She said she was from Memphis, Tennessee and I thought that was cool being from the town made famous by Elvis Presley. Arriving in San Francisco with only the clothes on her back and $10 in her pocket, she managed to make it somehow. She worked odd jobs, sold weed, panhandled and did what ever it took to live her dream, to be with the hippies in San Francisco.

  We smoked a jay, drank some wine and listened to some old LP's on my old record player and got to know each other better. Turns out she was a singer and I didn't even know it, we sang songs all night and smoked some more weed and finished off both bottles of wine.

  We got it on of course and made it until the sun came up then fell asleep waking up around ten in the morning, hungry as hell, but hornier than we were hungry. We finally went out for air around noon and decided to go have some pancakes and eggs for lunch. We walked down the street to the pancake house, went inside and quickly found a table. The waitress came over to take our order, but we couldn't stop laughing, having just smoked another joint right before our walk down the street so we could “arrive high,” which I always liked to do. We finally stopped and ordered two large stacks, eggs and an endless pot of coffee, which we really needed.

  Janis, said she had left Memphis because it just wasn't a happening place, and she was a happening kind of girl who wanted to live the hippie life style. I was down with that myself. We were both vehemently opposed to the war in Vietnam, hated rednecks, and loved to get high and make love.

  Three pots of coffee later, we were wired for sound, talking a mile a minute, and laughing again, just generally having a great time and really getting to know one another. We made the decision right then and there she was going to move in with me, we really dug each other and wanted to shack up for a while and see how it worked out. It helped out on the rent and the food bill, even though I would have to stop seeing other chicks for a while, can't have everything I guess.

  But Janis had a dark side I didn't know about, couldn't know about, but should have known about. It started the second night, the weird chanting, ritualistic readings out of a strange book, a magical book, or so it seemed. Strange visitors in the middle of night became commonplace as the days went on, I tried to remain neutral but found myself being drawn into a macabre world of voodoo, devil worship and vampires.

  I started dressing in black myself, staying out of the sunlight, only venturing out at night, it all started to feel normal, but it was far from normal. Janis pushed the rituals even further, going so far as pretending to be a vampire, wanting with all heart to be a vampire. It was starting to scare the hell out of me but by then I was so far gone I felt helpless.

  Vampires don't really exist so I had nothing really to worry about, so I told myself when I was in a strong enough state of mind to tell myself anything. We started to live like vampires, sleeping in a simple wood coffin we had bought, venturing out only after the sun went down, we became nocturnal.

  One night Janis asked me to go to a party with her, at midnight, at a secluded wooded park not far from the Golden Gate Bridge. She said she had some friends she wanted me to meet, it would be fun, we would be back before daylight so not to worry. I reluctantly agreed, but I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, something told me I shouldn't go, but of course I went, not wanting to let Janis down.

  The park was very dark, the only light was the full moon that was shining brightly. The whole scene looked like something from a horror picture. I should have ran like hell, but I didn't, not wanting to look like a coward in front of Janis and her friends. The party started off innocent enough, just a bunch of friends having a cookout, drinking, and smoking some bud. I was starting to feel comfortable as the night wore on, everything was going to be all right.

  I noticed a lot of familiar faces, many of the people at the party had been over to my place. The rest of the group were strangers and strange looking , even bizarre and scary looking. They seemed to be in charge in some sort of intangible fashion, all eyes were on them, it gave me the creeps. Janis seemed to be under their spell and I was starting to feel hypnotized by their unseen powers as well.

  One of the lead group pulled a large flask of dark liquid out of a canvass bag, took a drink and passed it around to the group, each taking a drink and passing it to the individual next to them. Janis took a drink, winched contorting her face and then it was my turn, so I drank. The liquid was very bitter, somewhat lumpy in consistency, and totally disgusting. I gagged as I gave the bottle to a dude next to me.

  The park spun round and round, faces contorted, my soul was ripped from my body and sent spiraling into space out of control, all manner of hideous activities tormented my mind and I went totally black.

  I wake up everyday in the San Francisco Home For The Criminally Insane not knowing if I'll be in my right mind or not. On those bad days I am a sucker of blood, a demon that haunts the night looking for prey to devour. I will live forever, I am the vampire hippie.