I am torn.
The evil pleasure, or the slow happy heal?
Who do I want to be?
Me?
Or the villain?
I'm always doubting myself, always looking to be redefined, but I never change my ways.
But now I teeter on the brink. Where am I going? Where could I go? Is it worth it? Do I want it?
The images that play through my mind, the dialogues, the calculating stabs... It brings a thrill I can hardly justify. But the justification is emptiness anyways, if the line is crossed. Only the hero looks for reason beyond pure pleasure. Burning bridges, stomping fingers, laughing maniacally. It calls to me.
But still my feet are stayed.
The decision comes soon.
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Buncha Words and Stuff
Mostly words. But they mean stuff. Sometimes.
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Knight of Azrael
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