The gal I posted about yesterday says she believes in wearing your psychoticism on your sleeve. So, everyone please meet Betelgeuse.
For this occasion I am reinstituting comment moderation. You WILL be on your best behavior. Maybe if you act like adults I can convince a couple of the female lurkers around here to talk to each other by e-mail or something. Baby steps.
Betelgeuse also gave me permission to link to her art galleries on the Instagrams. Please note they are most definitely NSFW. However you’ll find a lot of cool Edenic themes in there, like this one:
Here’s her normie gallery. It runs a bit dark but I expect most of you won’t have nightmares. This next one is her darker gallery. It’s roughly Berserk-level gore and mindfuckery and if you don’t have a cerebellum (ahem) I’d recommend you don’t click on it. It’s art meant to produce an impression, but I think these galleries will give you some understanding of what I meant when I originally said this about owl melons:
It would be a mistake to characterize this enthusiasm [for violence] as anything other than a form of lust. And just as men have to constantly control this feeling of lust, owl melons have to control their passion for violence. This, combined with charisma, gives their personalities a feeling of darkness that, in person, can feel like it’s enveloping you and dimming the lights. They are usually very responsible about maintaining control, but you still shouldn’t give them an excuse.
If this strikes you as a very sexual description, then you’ll be gratified to know that I agree. In my opinion, this composite of famous serial killers shows owl melon influence:
Unlike the degenerates in that composite, most owl melons have consciences, so your best bet is to not be evil (because that’s a good enough excuse). Though they usually don’t sport hooked noses, beware any owl melon who does [Ed: Should be downwardnose here, we now distinguish between this and hooked noses]. It’s like how women should dress appropriately, act conservatively, and never be caught alone with the wrong sort of man (especially after dark).