I don't know what to think about anything... I don't know what I think about you, or you, or you... I'm a little bit confused, so I think I will address these things as they surface in my mind's thought-pool.
The first one, I know this for sure: I don't owe you a damn thing. I gave you everything, and that fact was never even acknowledged. I gave you everything, and you took and took and took, and yet you claim I owe YOU. I owe you... I don't know for what...? Breathing the same air as you? I think not. I will come back to this thought, but another is more pressing right now; more important than you, and your demands.
This second, I don't what to do with yet. I think that this second agrees.
There is much uncertainty, and much possibility, or so I think.
I'm still undecided as to whether or not I'm seeing the whole of things.
I do know, that I don't like that. I can handle myself while wading through a certain degree of uncertainty, for sure...
but the particulars of the uncertainty through which I walk are not my favorite of kinds. These are the little things that drive people away, that drive people insane. That, I don't like so much. I'm sure, though; that I am creating the same on the other end. This second, maybe I owe. So, this second, I will continue to try... if only for another second. If the uncomfortability rises to a certain degree, then the time has come for this second to end, I suppose; for the time to return to what it once was. I'm ok with that.
This second, now sorted; feels a little less pressing.... With that I will continue my rant towards the first one. The one who screams, "I love you" in a voice loaded with hatred. From the shadows of my weak points, the first one appears. First, softly whispering... the moment the first one has caught my ear, the whisper turns to a scream. The words seem to beg for my mercy, but the voice and the face from which they come seeks to berate and destroy the very core of me.
The face, painted to summon sympathy from the masses is quickly betrayed by the eyes behind. "You've destroyed my heart!", asserts the voice, but I can see that the blackened mass still beats within... This is the process of crazy-making, displaying pains so publicly... For I am not a heartless monster, I'm merely smart enough to hide mine away; and certainly away from public view. Once, the first one tore a nasty gash right through my side... then, the first one dragged my insides through the dirt for all to see, to feast on... Never again will I expose my vulnerable belly to the first one again. Can you blame me?
This one wears a mask to put my insides on display for all the others - claiming to own the pain that is rightfully mine - crying out for sympathy for his OWN crimes! Naturally, as far as this one is concerned, the very rain that falls upon the Earth is mine in fault. I think not. This is, as I said, simply the process of crazy-making, and I'll not be made to go there, thanks.
