scarlet

So yeah, you do have the freedom to choose to be who you wish to be.

And being who you intrinsically are, you choose scum from the deepest underneath of Darkness.

I choose to float. Above. So I can look down at you. I can do that really well now.

It helps me live with myself. This floating. See, if I’d crash down to your despicable level – I’d be no better. And tomorrow, when my anger would have subsided, I’d feel really sick with myself for letting an emotionally charged reaction get the better of me. I can forgive the world. But I find it difficult to forgive myself.

And I hurl every obscenity I know. Not towards you of course. You don’t deserve emotion. You get calm, placid. Emotionless. Cut and dry. I swallow the anger as I pace up and down my room with the music on too loud. One song on repeat. Ashes. It’s all I need. It works every time.

I’ve had it you see. I really have. I was done with this shit a long time ago – you just don’t seem to get it. I’m not going to allow you or anyone else to ever walk over me. I spent decades like that. Then I’d fall back in my head and live in the world I’d created because hey, at least that place had the air I needed. I could breathe there. Outside, in the here and now that most of you inhabit – there was nothing to breathe. Not much to see. Not much to feel. And certainly not much to believe.

And now. Now I don’t even need that world much anymore. I’m not in that little circle you wish I was in. I got out of that years ago. Sucks for you if you didn’t realize.

I can slice through you like a knife without the blade.

I can bleed you dry without a cut.

I can slit your throat without the sword.

Think they call that Power in your realm. Someone just handed that over to me. No idea who. Should I thank them? Or should I just thank Him? Because I know from ’my toes to my ankles to my head to my soul’ that there was a chunk of divine intervention in my life. So yeah, I know who to thank first actually.

Funnily enough, you’re somewhere on the list.

I am who I am because each time you kicked me in my stomach – I figured how to keep breathing. Each time you smashed my head against the wall – I figured how to keep my focus steady. Each time you mangled my body – I figured how to keep all my parts together.

Yeah. I owe you in the most perverse sense possible. It’s something about my theory of “there’s always some good in the bad”. It works to keep the cynic in me under control.

So yeah, I’m floating. And I’m good.

And there’s the shield you couldn’t possibly penetrate. Just try.

04/08/08; 11:52am