The Beast

Been busy, hanging out with old friends. Been tired, and severely hung over. And i am, Colder and Harder. Stronger? I'm not sure. Something wicked this way comes, jingles in each step, clang, like the clock tower hitting high noon with two lone gunmen backs to each other. In the middle of chaos is order, and in the middle of order, is chaos. Such is the way of the universe. A chaotic paradox, within a simple repeated pattern.

Please don't test my patience, making me feel guilty, or bad, appealing to my "humanity", or asking me what I really think. I am short tempered, oversensitive, and not very good company. Stop! You don't get to judge me, only I do. I made this, not you. When the other half of me asked for you to help it stop, nobody replied. I think i know who won. Mr Hyde.

Only a well weathered sense of restraint stops me from telling you what I think of you. And how un-forgiven you are. And how much I would like you to suffer, because I think you need it, because you deserve it. How much your fear disgusts me. I know I'm free, because I can see your chains. I know I'm free because instead of thinking I should help, I cant help but manage a sadistic smile while watching you squirm under the weight of it all.

When I was kinder, i once tried to make someone feel better. He turned and told me not to; because he wouldn't feel sorry for me if I were in his shoes. I never understood why somebody would feel destructive around me, now I do. When you die, remember me. Think about how futile it is when you do, because the last thing my mind would be on is you.

It's not Us and Them anymore, it's I and Nothing else. How to be dead? Hurt until you cannot feel anything anymore, run a rasp across your nerves until you don't have any. Torture yourself, torture your mind, destroy it.