May 30, 2004 10:01
//Firewalled against everyone but Angel, Cordy, Spike, and my ghost dog Dennis//
Now, I know y'all think I'm all tough and macho (Which I am, and you know it), but, damn, everyone's gotta do the emotional thing sometimes. Things just got too damn crazy for me not to wig a little, you know?
Nothin's worse than bein' a survivor. I know what they call it. Survivor's Guilt. People try to tell you it's okay, but it doesn't help. It ain't okay. Never gonna be okay. We all know it. All we can do is try to make it right for others.
Man, I sound like Angel. I guess I finally get him. It's not about gettin' the pardon from the governor. I've done something too bad to come back from. I'm sorry. I was ready to die back there. I wasn't fightin' for me. I was fightin' for the fight.
It's the mission. I get that now. More than ever, it's all about the mission. Comin' back to this place... back to old friends... it got to me. Hell, I even sat around for a couple days, tryin' to figure out if even belong here.
I don't know who, or what I am anymore, but I know I gotta stick to the mission. Ain't no way I'm rememberin' Fred and Wes by sittin' around and heting myself. I could do that on my feet just fine. So, point me in a direction. I'm ready to go. We got people to help, evils to slay.
We got the fight. Let's go.
//Firewall crumblin' down//