Chapter 3-Selfish Minds
They’re like bugs, the degraded soldiers I mean. They continue to race towards the light, towards me. I’m more than willing to open that door for them, I’d be more than willing to do that for you if you asked.
Please ask me.
No don’t do that. I’m not here, I’m in your head.
The next thing you know, you’re going to be shooting yourself.
I’d be okay with that, but not you.
You can’t stand the fact that the world could go on without the selfish little fuck up (you) getting in the way. I could shoot right through you if I felt so inclined. I could take your hand and force you into something you don’t want, how do you feel about that?
How do you feel about how weak you are to the emotions that plague your brain into dark, spiraling depression? How do you feel about the said feelings running the entirety of your being?
It makes me feel like I’m in the passenger seat, the backseat driver being...you called it smart-ass! My fear, it’s my fear. Always there, always critiquing, waiting for the moment to be heard by none other than you.
I know you feel the way I do.
I know you think about death.
About how to do it and what comes after, whether or not you actually have the intention of doing it, because no one ever does in the beginning.
It’s a shameful way to go, and although I would like nothing more than to say it wasn’t, that it was a brave thing to do that took courage, I’d be lying.
Again, I don’t really care about being truthful, but I do care about taking the credit of something that could be, something that I could so easily bring to life. Oh the irony...
I hope you don’t think I’m being vague, because if we aren’t on the same page then you don’t deserve to be here. Allow the dark place your brain is inhabiting to crawl back into the hole that you choose to ignore, the one that “doesn’t” exist.
I have a question to ask before you stop listening to me. One single question before you write me off as insane, which I very well may be.
Instead of killing yourself, why not kill others? Instead of putting a bullet through just your own head, why not make people join you before you go?
It’s human nature to not want to be alone, although we all do sometimes. What I don’t understand is, suicide seems like a great waste of a person who could do great things in life.
What is so wrong with you that you want to be alone entirely? Why are you different- no, correction: why are we different?
I’m no therapist, but I know how much emotions feed off of your happiness (of all things right?). I know what it takes to put on a content face when you are anything but...although I’ve never even attempted to.
I can’t stress how important it is to listen to this, if you get nothing else from my part of this story then get this:
I’m already with you.
It didn’t take reading this to know that something like me is already stuck in your head. If you’ve related to anything I’ve said then you’re already on a downhill slope, and I know that you have. Don’t lie to me, or better yet, don’t lie to yourself.
We are one, if you lie to yourself, I’ll know too.
I am curious though as to what you think of my status as a human being.
I am a soldier, some would say that means that I’m a hero. Others think I am a murderer, but who decides?
Who gets the privilege of deciding?
It seems as though that that’s playing God just as much as ending a life is.
I wish I could take a poll from all five of you who are still reading about my thoughts, who are still listening to me. I want to know who believes that I’m a murderer, and who believes I am just plain insane.
I can’t be both, don’t argue with me on this. Insane means to be in a state of mind that prevents normal perception, behavior, or social interaction; seriously mentally ill. If that’s what I am, how could you really blame me for not seeing the true worth of a human life? If I am prevented from a normal perception of death, then how could I be blamed for acting on my lack of perceiving the value of life?
But if I’m just a murderer on the other hand...just a cold blooded murderer who knows what killing means, do I deserve the self-deprecating thoughts (to put it nicely) that refuse to leave my “totaly intact” head?
Do you deserve to have me in your own head? I’m already there, and you should come up for a better name for me. I was Milo- yes by the way, this is still ‘Milo’ speaking, in some sense at least, but you should at least give me a different name, or maybe you could just stick with fear. Is that what I’ve always been?
If I am you, and you are me, then that makes you my fear as well.
What an odd concept.
That’s definitely been the running theme in these stories right? You might as well just go along with the other guys, I’m not much of a follower, but I see no need to rebel against the inevitable. I pick my battles wisely, only in the hope of my benefit.
So I guess it’s good to have me on your side because I always live, but to be frank, I’m really not all that sorry to say that you’re not on my side.
I will survive, it’s too bad the same can’t be said for my hosts...for you. I guess living isn’t a top priority in your head, otherwise you wouldn’t be fighting me right now. I guess I can say that I have something in common with you, I would fight me too.