Expanded and updated version of [
this].
This is why I don’t want drugs. This is why I write. This is why I breathe. This isn’t me; this is the red child and the algorithm that both creates and destroys her, and though these are parts of me they are not me in my totality, they are the most common pair of pawns I find myself moving; and one cannot move without the other. In truth, I debated a while about posting the edited version of the piece (and even flocking the original post) due to its personal nature; but if I started censoring what writing I post even here based on what’s personal, then I wouldn’t be posting at all, would I? So I’m posting, but if you want an argument on whatever mismanagement of my pet psychosis you’d like to accuse me of I’d much rather it on IM where I can be a bit sharper.
I don’t… really expect this to make sense to anyone, but it should make more sense than the original, and I tried to give it more of a scope of the pieces of me than before, though of course the perspective of pawns limits that. I do love this piece, though, and I think it’s the only truly good piece I’ve turned out lately… though my notion of ‘good’ is hardly mainstream. :P Concrit much appreciated, if you can manage it.
100original, 'insides'.
table.