| A Moment Passed |
| My name is Chris. Son of God, I know what my name means. I took pride in that, I found some twisted satisfaction in the fact that I have been named after a church which has oppressed billions of people worldwide. My name is drenched in blood, yet I feel as pure as a 19 year old female virgin in Alabama. Right now, none of that matters. I want to go to sleep. Reality has become tiresome, and I have become tired. I am tired and angry because of the fact that I want to sleep with someone, and that I also want to kill someone. I want to bottle up these emotions to myself, but I...can't continue to do so unless I can scream and rant out this window. What is this to you? Why the hell are you reading this? If you don't know me, get the frell away from here. If you do, I would advise the same. To be honest, I sincerely do not want anyone to read this. I am not making a cry for help, don't feel obligated as such. This isn't for you, don't listen to me. Listening is such an easy thing to do. I would think it harmless, as it might appear to you. But listening has gotten me into some of the most hectic and painful moments of my life, and it was not my fault. No, because I am Atlas. I am a man whose strengths are so great that I don't even know how far they go. That is what gets me, how strong am I? Can I take over the world? Reduce a population to ashes? If given the power, I fear what I would do. Remember Stalin's words. "When you kill one, it is a tragedy. When you kill ten million, it is a statistic." I fear that I would kill nearly everyone. What now, one might ask, could this be the kind hearted soul that would never harm a fly? What is this new side of him? Hmmm... I was wondering the same thing myself. I am tired of this surplus population. I grow weary of the endless "political" impossibilites, of a lack in social motivation. I want to put the great minds of our country to work, and develop policy that will make it stronger in the one way that it can. Through supreme power. That is what I would do. Get rid of our current tax system, execute the mentally ill, the severely retarded, anyone that takes more than they give to society. And you know what, we are going to be better off. No one wants to admit it, no one wants to be blamed for such a gift to the world. Because morally, it IS wrong. But, in the long run, it will save more lives than it takes. Who should undertake such a curse? Simply put, the man who has nothing to lose. A lost soul to finalize his destiny. Kill the innocents, who would be able to accomplish such a moral tragedy? I could. And I do, in my dreams. Power has corrupted me, but I never had any power besides the will to dream. Figures the one asset I have is what damns me to eternity. Katie got a runners-up at the Oratorical Contest. Damn. She won something. I never won anything. I participated in that twice, and failed miserably. Where am I now? I have NOTHING. And that cruel witch of a history teacher rewards me for skills I do not deserve...where is the justice? Where is the happiness, the merriment, the good times? I killed them, I killed everyone of them. Do I have love? I touched my best friend affectionately, hearing the gasps from my partner as we caressed secretly. Whatever love she held for me died that instant. She talks of love now, like she has always loved me. I no longer care whether she loves me. I would just as soon use the string from the balloons at the ceremony to hang myself. Oh, the horrible irony that would create! I always wanted to die a comic and backstabbing death, where I could haunt those who I felt ill towards after the grave. I would wait until they were just feeling comfortable in their lives, and I would pounce on everything they held dear. I would make them go crazy with voices, cruel whispers only they can hear. And, the Ice Princess, what do I think of her? I want to sleep with her. I want to see the passion unleashed in a moment of ectasy, and show her what a fool she was to view me the way she does now. Not that I know how she feels towards me, because we haven't shared a conversation in several months. Frankly, I feel that she feels disinterested towards me. Disinterested. After several months of...listening...she feels disinterested. And I fell in love. Is that fair? Is it truly what I want? I know it isn't what she wants. Well, I don't know, no one does, except for her. Figures. Not knowing hurts a great deal. The steel friend, whom I have known since time itself, is a constant annoyance. I would not mind if he simply vanished. I would not mind if I killed him myself. With a knife, yesss...how poetic. Or, the neutral party who can not be a friend of mine, it is him that I wish the worst upon. I hate him for the very same reason that he loves me. It is just in our nature. What a neanderthal he is!! I give him a world of ideas, he gives me a boat load of crap in exchange. I read his poetry, I study his drawings, and I begin to amuse myself at how good an artist he could be if he did not die young. Don't get me wrong, I could never hurt anyone. I do appreciate their company at times...my mind simply dreams of horrible things. Sick and perverted perspectives on life. I do not indulge myself as you probably think. I simply have these feelings, and I feel like screaming in a hole in the ground so that no one can hear me. If you are reading this, you hear me. That isn't good. To life in itself, I am too scared to leave it. Too scared at what I have become. Too scared at what I will become. I won't die tonight, nor do I hope to die tomorrow. All I want is sleep...the nightmares and fantasies will return, and I will die and be reborn a thousand times before sunrise. And life begins again, though smaller. Goodnight, may your dreams yield as much as mine. A Tortured Soul |