The Laughter In Your Halo
I’m just coming off a bender. This bender doesn’t include alcohol or substances that enhance my bad intentions. My bad intentions don’t need to be encouraged-ever. Want to stop me? Kill me. It’s the only way.
The pen is mightier than the sword, but not the appetite for nihilism.
The world as we know it is going to end soon. Then I will finally be free. No longer will I be shackled by the laws that were created to protect cowards with a lot of money. Demons will attack the earth. They will be fierce, but I too am fierce. I’m the one they’re taught to fear. Cowards with money will be powerless because demons can’t be bought, or ridiculed into submission.
And so I wait.
There’s a sacred mire Clarington where good memories go to die. I go there daily. My well is running dry. My mind is a slow burn. All the logical parts of it dissipate. Halloween will come and I will show my true form, only to succumb to the bastardized representation of me. You can’t scare me with the threat of God’s love.
I’m not long for this world. But I don’t mind. Some people need to die so others can live. I’ve not only accepted this but I endorse it. Halloween is coming. In November I’ll turn to a shadow, or a bad memory, or a fever. The years will go by and I will change violently, but at least my hands will stop shaking. The chip on my shoulder is less a burden, more a mentor.
I came uninvited in this world I didn’t ask for. These are end times.