Satisfactory is a Matter of Angels and Demons
Satisfaction is a strange word.
I can not say that I’ve ever truly been satisfied.
I’m a demon stuck living with humans and their God-awful ways for however long this life will last.
My head aches from the weight of the memories I’ve been carrying with me for so long.
I’ve got lovers, but I find myself often flirting with angels and making promises of romance I don’t intend to keep.
I kissed a god for the hell of it just to see if it would be different.
What I’m saying is… What is satisfaction?
Is it a matter of angels and demons, because if so, I don’t think those two categories cover the vast majority of options I have in the short life.