Tuesday, May 10, 2011

God damn it Henry how did you get me typing this up? I don’t want to fucking talk about this, it’s the very reason I haven’t been. I don’t care if you think I need to get it off my chest, I don’t care if you think the world wants to hear it. News flash Henry, nobody gives a damn about us. Nobody in the world cares about what happens to you and me and all the others except us. I can guarantee that nobody out there wants to hear me mope and whine about ending a man’s life. I sure as hell don’t want to anymore.

They don’t want to hear me lament the loss of my innocence or cry about how I went from pacifist to killer in a matter of seconds. They don’t want to hear me go into gory detail about the way I felt the crack of his skull reverberate up that stick of wood or describe the way the tiny bit of life he still possessed drained from his eyes as looked up at me. Nobody out there wants to hear my fucking sob story. Nobody except you. I know you’re trying to help but just let it go, I didn’t pester you to deal with your loss over the internet’s open forum. Please just let go. I’m so fucking tired of all of this.

I’ll be fine. I don’t regret it; I did what was necessary to keep JD alive. I just wish that fucker hadn’t died, that he possessed the same ungodly endurance that our dear Arkady goes on and on and on about. But you know? Despite everything, the sick feeling I wake up to every morning and this warm sting of panic that keeps invading my chest, despite it all I don’t regret it. If it was needed I’d kill him all over.

I’ll do whatever I fucking have to do to keep everyone I care about alive. Even if that means suffering this again and again and again.


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