There’s a feeling I haven’t thought I’d be able to feel again. When things get bad enough it’s usually turned inward. Becomes further fuel for the hatred that burns for me, from me, I feel the uncontrollable urge to shatter my hands. The very modus oprerandi used to create so much. Just to break them, never to be used again. To never have to deal with falling short. With reaching my limits and realizing just how insignificant I ever was.
This is different though. This time I still have the urge but the pursuit is different. This feeling is crushing me. Crippling me. I want to, escape. Murderous intent becomes unintelligible from the rage. I must find some way to calm down. This isn’t a good place to be in. But I feel myself slipping. I updated my site for the first time in over 11 months. I did so in attempt to try to vent there. But with what it had become, it was just easier to do so here.
I am a monster. A demon. A shadow, less than human. I am a killer. To pretend otherwise was just a lie. I guess the darkest parts are very much dwelling comfortably where they’ve always been. I’m not sure that’s a bad thing. I don’t know that losing these fangs are for the best.
I don’t know why I’m doing this. Lie. I know exactly why. It hurts. It hurts to know. My Everything was hurt and that devastates me. Writing’s not helping. I’ll dnif the strength. This is not where my attention should be. Not the time to be lost in such a place. A different fight awaits me. I don’t know that anything less than a man could be acceptable. Humanity. Can’t give it up, not with my Light at stake. No.
…must do better.