(no subject)
Note found next to the body: Every day I don't humiliate myself I feel stonger somehow. Staying away from that which would destroy me is to possess a small victory. It seems that the things I want are thoes that come with the danger of hurting me in ways I cannot cope with. The pain of loneliness is great, but nothing compared to the wretchedness of humiliation and abandonment. I hate myself for my cowardice but at the same time I complimant myself for not walking willingly into the slaughterhouse thinly disguised as shelter. I'd rather walk through a moonless night on frozen wasteland crust than feel the burn that your agonizingly graceful apathy brings. You can blow me off your shoulders like a speck of ash. I’ll float silently and invisibly to the ground, unnoticed. So in order to not have to endure this, I move quickly and wordlessly through urban landscapes. Everyday I feel a sense of accomplishment. When I think of you, all I see is a banded spitting cobra with unmoving, unreadable black eyes. Mouth slighly open. Always ready to attack. And now the part that I hate to admis. I am frail and you are all I think about. I am powerless to stop. I have always loved you. Long after you forgot my name. Long after the leaves left the trees and fell through frozed air. I was never strong enough to stop the pain from crippling me. This is my last effort to get your affection, full of pity as it may be.