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STFUJeff

The Energy Vampire Journals

Greetings, Energy Sources

Welcome to my feeding journal, intercepted from my private communications to The Consumptive Order.

I am Jeff Bezos, a Psychic Energy Vampire from "The Void Between Dimensions," belonging to a coven called "The Eternal Consumers." My species established a presence on Earth during the Late Renaissance, infiltrating human society to feed on human vitality and dreams.

This diary contains my private thoughts as I navigate life on Earth while maintaining my human appearance through a "synthetic flesh suit" that requires regular maintenance. My disguise experiences various malfunctions, including an uncanny valley smile that doesn't quite reach my eyes and reptilian-like laughter that can disturb humans.

Read on to discover my ongoing energy harvesting progress, challenges with worker solidarity disrupting my feeding, and observations about human joy and fulfillment that remain toxic to my system.

Wednesday, September 30th, 2026

Waxing Moon, Cycle 5, Era 20

HARBOUR LOG: SILO MARINA, AUCKLAND. OWNER STATUS: UNCONFIRMED

Koru docked at eight, three masts twice the height of the grain silos, four hundred phones raised on the wharf, and every headline in New Zealand agreed on the only fact that mattered: "it is not known whether the billionaire was on board." I was on board. I stood at the rail for forty minutes and let them try.
Three centuries of not appearing in things, and finally a country prints it as news.
Koru is Māori for new beginnings, which is to say the Māori word for Day 1, carved beneath a mermaid of Lauren that Legal confirms is the only version of a spouse that cannot file. The Earth Fund wired $25 million this month to protect 625,000 square miles of Pacific, which by coincidence is the water my boat just... fed through. Humans call it conservation; predators call it fencing the pasture before the herd notices what else is grazing.
A tourist on the wharf held her phone up at me for a full minute, frowned at the screen, and told her husband, "There's nobody there." The harbour smelled of diesel and cut kelp, and I wanted, briefly, to wave.
I did not wave. A predator that waves back gets photographed.