normal

fear is the only medium. fear and pain. get a grip man. you can hardly type. and you expect to report to work tomorrow? without fear the human beast is nothing but a burnt shell, nothing but a faximile of its former self. for what are we without fear? what drives us to do better, to make something out of nothing?

fear

of the unknown. of the constant changes we face, that bind us to our decisions, as a mother binds us to her tit.

fear of denial.

fear of letting those things out that scare us the worst take hold, and consume us in their tearful envelope. of letting ourselves be conscious of the fact that everyone feels it, but some of us choose not to let it creep into our me, our most holy of fucking holies.

of betrayal.

of having some worthless whore tear your lungs out, and show them to you, as she prances away with some pretty, idolent scumbag who doesn't stand up to the flame?

of betrayal of friendship, that which lasts, and that which will never come again? and so i sit in lotathing of myself, for having wished death upon he from whom i sprung, hoping he will perish the utmost of painful deaths, because he betrayed not me, but she who bore me?

yes sir.

and with that, i, from my perished soul, wish ye, good night.
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