It's a fact. I hate hearing about other people's success. It gnaws at me. Vindictive. Consuming. The level of annoyance and the wicked urge to abandon any and every bit of purity within me is unparalleled in moments like these. Bloody images crowd my mind; a brutal brawl, a jaw-shattering kick, an iron punch. Something, anything to vest this burst of evil energy into, since I can't quite live out these momentary fantasies.
Many of you who will read this might think I'm a psychofreak and that I probably need help. Well, most of you are wrong. I'm just someone who had the guts to express my demonic side, something a lot of you wouldn't even dream of doing. Because it's dangerous. Speaking your mind about such thoughts and vivid feelings is considered more sinful than their actual commitment. How ironic is that?
Instead of burying this insecurity, I choose to voice it, write it, scream it, so that one person who reads this and feels like my kin after having learned my emotions are theirs and theirs mine, shall know they're not alone. They never were. No one is. Because the demons of the mind are present in every single human alive, and trust me, this might be the only generalisation that is true. The only difference between us is that you choose to hide them. I don't.
Because someone out there feels this insecurity. Someone out there loathes themselves for it. Someone out there knows what it's like to never feel enough, just at the slightest mention of the victory of a random soul over another one. Someone feels the exact same gut-punch that follows after such a mention, and the hollowness that comes after.
For those who feel it, know that I feel it too. So does the soul right next to you. Like I said, they just choose to bury it, while I choose to paint it all over the walls, to provide a chance to every other person who feels they have the right colours to paint this particular canvas with.
This isn't a cult invitation, if that thought flashed across your mind. It's just a message; you're understood, and no, you're not a freak. The real freaks are the ones who believe otherwise, because they're actually demented enough to believe such evil is non-existent in all beings. If you're one of those, don't judge, for you know nothing. And if you're not, bring your paints. It's about time this canvas had some real colours on it.
You don't need to wait to be ready. You just need to begin.
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