Tomorrow
Tonight:
"YOU'RE KILLING ME!" she screamed. "I'm real, and you're not and you're KILLING ME."
And I can't argue with her really. Of course, I didn't realize it until she'd left, but I'd killed for her many a time, and that might have made a difference. I regret that one in particular, the little one, her, the only one that actually understood how to deal with people.
It's been too long to bring her back though, and she wouldn't stay if I did.
On both of them. I recognize myself in the mirror now, and there's no going back after that. I'm just a bundle of general hatred for humanity that lapped itself around to general politeness, good-will, and compassion to fit the shape better, but every bit of that's pretend. (She's real and I'm not and I wish she'd wake up again.)
Also, while I was out walking in the neighborhood, some lady screeched to a halt and backed her car up (she's as crappy at backing up as I am, only there was no cones for her to hit and no man with a clipboard. Damn that clipboard!) to ask me if I was ok, because "she saw me walking on the border." She seemed really worried too.
Hell if I know.
Tomorrow I'll break the box and set the demon free. This is literal, and also vandalous. We've all got our own ways of reliving our childhood.
Oh, and Will, I finally just went over to Amy's and read the Sandman, and I want more now...MOOOOREE MORE MORE MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE. So do you have them or they loaned out elsewhere?
"YOU'RE KILLING ME!" she screamed. "I'm real, and you're not and you're KILLING ME."
And I can't argue with her really. Of course, I didn't realize it until she'd left, but I'd killed for her many a time, and that might have made a difference. I regret that one in particular, the little one, her, the only one that actually understood how to deal with people.
It's been too long to bring her back though, and she wouldn't stay if I did.
On both of them. I recognize myself in the mirror now, and there's no going back after that. I'm just a bundle of general hatred for humanity that lapped itself around to general politeness, good-will, and compassion to fit the shape better, but every bit of that's pretend. (She's real and I'm not and I wish she'd wake up again.)
Also, while I was out walking in the neighborhood, some lady screeched to a halt and backed her car up (she's as crappy at backing up as I am, only there was no cones for her to hit and no man with a clipboard. Damn that clipboard!) to ask me if I was ok, because "she saw me walking on the border." She seemed really worried too.
Hell if I know.
Tomorrow I'll break the box and set the demon free. This is literal, and also vandalous. We've all got our own ways of reliving our childhood.
Oh, and Will, I finally just went over to Amy's and read the Sandman, and I want more now...MOOOOREE MORE MORE MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE. So do you have them or they loaned out elsewhere?