Long ago I was Starbuck. No, I wasn't just Starbuck, I was his
Starbuck. Now he is gone and I stand here wondering how I came to be. I
am a doctor, correction, I could have been a doctor, but I long ago joined
the FBI. Yes, the Federal Bureau of Investigation, just a minor detail in
what I call my life. Did I really create create who I am, or did I simply
let my life pass me by without ever thinking about my so-called future?
Did I ever just stop and glance at the future, and did I peer far enough?
Did I see the life I would never have, or the child I would never give
birth to? And, was I damned from the moment he died, the moment I refused
to look into those cold eyes of his, and hear the words of my father, the
moment I chose not to believe? The moment that evil, yet enlightening
truth was right there, staring at me, threatening to corrupt my naive mind.
My eyes fill with tears as I watch myself, crawl deeper into the depths of my very being. I am nothing to anyone. I am a shell, I pretend to live, to be alive. I feign interest just to escape this hell-hole. A life without meaning, a lie hidden between two truths. I am nothing but a naive child who is afraid of the truth in every lie. The hidden message in every word uttered by those who think they are of value. They are nothing to me, and they will never win, but maybe they already have. I began to believe the lies as a small child. Everything everyone told me, they were lies, but I believed them because everyone believes them. Everything is a fabrication, as am I. My soul is non-existent, I am but a shell, an exoskeleton waiting to collapse, to implode. It is my fate.
I stare at myself in the reflective glass before me. Salty rivers stream down pale porcelain. These twin rivers fall off the earth, turning into droplets as they slip nonchalantly through the abyss. This is my end, I fear. I know I must die, it is my fate, it is a fate that haunts everyone. I struggle inside, an internal conflict that will not release me, will not leave me, will not let me rest. Silently they creep in the night, when it is dark. I hear the pounding of my heart, the erratic swoosh in my ears, coursing through my head. I hear them closing in, getting ready for the kill. These deomns cannot be destroyed. They live in all minds, even the beautiful ones. I am not worthy of the life I may have lived tomorrow.
Tomorrow, another day. Another day in the life of me, the walking corpse, the shell, the crumbling life that has an horrific fate. The demons are closing in on me, chanting their chants, glaring at me, inside me. They read my soul like a book that they have read many times and they tell me that I am next. I listen, for if I disobey I will be punished, and I can only imagine what will become of me.
I watch in reluctance as my hand reaches for the knife beside me. I want this sound to stop, the movement inside me to end. The chants of the demons become louder, I can do nothing to silence their bellowing singsong vibrations of sound. I see the shining silver slowly engrave my skin, the red rivers that flow fluidly through these deep valleys I have made. I feel no pain. I will become to others as I know myself to be. I am a shell feigning life, I am nothing. And I have met my fate.
My eyes fill with tears as I watch myself, crawl deeper into the depths of my very being. I am nothing to anyone. I am a shell, I pretend to live, to be alive. I feign interest just to escape this hell-hole. A life without meaning, a lie hidden between two truths. I am nothing but a naive child who is afraid of the truth in every lie. The hidden message in every word uttered by those who think they are of value. They are nothing to me, and they will never win, but maybe they already have. I began to believe the lies as a small child. Everything everyone told me, they were lies, but I believed them because everyone believes them. Everything is a fabrication, as am I. My soul is non-existent, I am but a shell, an exoskeleton waiting to collapse, to implode. It is my fate.
I stare at myself in the reflective glass before me. Salty rivers stream down pale porcelain. These twin rivers fall off the earth, turning into droplets as they slip nonchalantly through the abyss. This is my end, I fear. I know I must die, it is my fate, it is a fate that haunts everyone. I struggle inside, an internal conflict that will not release me, will not leave me, will not let me rest. Silently they creep in the night, when it is dark. I hear the pounding of my heart, the erratic swoosh in my ears, coursing through my head. I hear them closing in, getting ready for the kill. These deomns cannot be destroyed. They live in all minds, even the beautiful ones. I am not worthy of the life I may have lived tomorrow.
Tomorrow, another day. Another day in the life of me, the walking corpse, the shell, the crumbling life that has an horrific fate. The demons are closing in on me, chanting their chants, glaring at me, inside me. They read my soul like a book that they have read many times and they tell me that I am next. I listen, for if I disobey I will be punished, and I can only imagine what will become of me.
I watch in reluctance as my hand reaches for the knife beside me. I want this sound to stop, the movement inside me to end. The chants of the demons become louder, I can do nothing to silence their bellowing singsong vibrations of sound. I see the shining silver slowly engrave my skin, the red rivers that flow fluidly through these deep valleys I have made. I feel no pain. I will become to others as I know myself to be. I am a shell feigning life, I am nothing. And I have met my fate.
