“I have this power over you that you wouldn’t recognize if it were staring you in the face.”
To my lovely indefatigable detractor, who continually sends hate messages that I constantly ignore. Know this- I don’t have to stoop to your level. No. That will bring you too much happiness. All I have to do is exist. Yes, exists for you until you ultimately recognize that life has more meaning than you could possibly fathom. You could camp out on my doorstep, with your verbal weapons of mass destruction and I would be so nice as to offer you this stuffed chicken wing that I deboned myself just to let you know we’re civil but secretly wishing that you choke on a remnant wishbone that shall become a symbol of your vile and vulgar pride.
Yes, I am smart, well-read, and have a wicked sense of humor. In fact, I’d date myself if I could. And as you noticed from this previous statement- I am also teeming with self-confidence. I have this power over you that you wouldn’t recognize if it were staring you in the face. I may appear calm and collected but know for a fact that the only reason I subordinate myself is so that I can deconstruct you and tear you apart limb from limb when the opportunity to destroy presents itself.
God, that sounds so morbid…
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The bones of those who died before you They’re scattered all around me They form a ray of black light Dark and soggy, twisted, muddied, round Why did you let go
If you stay and take away this pain, I’ll let you be the glare inside the corner of my eyes. But if you go you’ll be the tiny bits of marrow splattered on my bones…
This “thing of beauty” will soon be dead. Consider this the last time that I wrote for you…“