Posted by marko on 1/18/2007, 8:19 am i scratch at it until it starts to bleed again. i can’t leave scene 163 i’ve wrapped myself in technicalities. i feel somewhat it’s remotely possible. but don’t take this as an admission don’t tell me to take it like a man. since when is masochism
65.167.39.245
scene 162
it alone. if i could it might heal. but it’s too much of
a temptation for someone like me. i have to carry it
everywhere i go. it’s there when i wake up. it’s there
when i’m in bed unable to sleep, unable to focus enough
to read. sometimes i’m not aware i’m doing it. other times
i need to feel something, even if it’s pain. the words are
coming off. the blood is beginning to drip slowly—building
up to a steady flow. sometimes i need to reassure myself
i’m authentic. that i have a soul. other times i can only
understand the damage i’ve done. i have many imperfections.
but never enough. i need more scars. yet, as i said, i often
can’t wait for that. it gives me something to do when i feel
i’ve done all i could. it takes my mind off things i’ve done
wrong, mistakes that i’ll no doubt make in the future.
safer. i feel a bit more confident. but i haven’t fooled
myself completely. i know they could be overturned.
every one of them. nothing can beat an airtight alibi.
however i don’t possess one at the present time. i have
no witness willing to testify on my behalf. i have no
favors to call in. it’s the price a lone wolf pays. i have
no trouble thinking posthumously. it’s all the rest i get
tangled up in. it makes running away difficult. this
is why i’ve been testing other means & methods. i’ve
wrapped myself in them. i was very careful how i went
about it. i made certain there was print on both sides.
i went to great lengths to make it appear as if someone
else had done it.
scene 164
of guilt. i’m playing devil’s advocate. i’ve found that
pleading innocent, or crying for mercy does no good. in
fact, it usually makes things worse. it goes on my permanent
record. it brands me a liar, even if part of it is true. even if
i’ve spoken despite risking great danger to myself. it tags
me a thief. but i always empty my pockets first. it stains
my hands with fingerprints that aren’t mine. they belong
to someone i have absolutely no connection to. it tarnishes
my words, so my voice sounds more raspy & sinister. it
gives them a reason to pull me over whenever they feel like
it. it discredits everything i’ve written. it shakes down my
testimony. though this isn’t a testimony. make no mistake
about that. this is purely a hypothetical scenario. it’s a
fictional portrayal. it’s in first person strictly for dramatic
purposes only.
scene 165
the measure of a man? that menacing tone of voice, those
arrogant gestures, & well documented sadistic tendencies
don’t intimidate me at all. it only fuels my anger. it makes me
stronger. it makes me more dangerous. i won’t take it like
a man. however. i will react like a man. there will be no
chance to take any words back. your threats have already
tripped the wire. there will be an explosion. there will be
no time to get away. no time to run. no time to beg for your
life. if you’re extremely lucky you might get away with a
very small piece of what you used to be. you need to
understand that you’re not the first to corner me like this.
unfortunately for you though, you will be the last. you will
pay not only for your own sins, but also for those that came
before yours.
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