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There is a place where everyone loses their morals. It doesn't matter what you are. You'll feel it too, that desperation. Like you're hungry for air. That guilt will never leave. There have been worse offenders. People so twisted you lose your faith. It doesn't matter if it came of fear, or something horribly imbalanced. I was supposed to be mature; I should've known better. The operator never says it was my fault. Maybe they have to, or maybe it's time to let go. We can't talk about so many things. It is not pride or fear that keeps me quiet. It's logical. If I could talk I would. Of course it was bad, it was something I had to do. Only something a stranger can know about. I might be stupid, never that stupid. The best thing to do is give it no attention. I'd be remiss if not to say these things vary between person. It's easy, so easy, to want to yell and fight. Why shouldn't you be enraged? Someone is tearing away your life! Your dignities and humanity! Any means necessary, right? It haunts me. Knowing how wrong it was doesn't make it better. I cracked under the pressure, like a coward. Should I be ashamed? I'm not. People much older and wiser than I broke down before me. That was lucky, because they did not see the bitter end. Sometimes I wonder if taking the gun would've been better. Mentally ill people and unregistered firearms have always gone together. What I mean to fight is not alive. Nothing I can do will change the past. There's some guilt around that too. That one is stupid. How could it be my fault if I hadn't been born yet? Emotion is as illogical as is necessary. For what it's worth, I hope that kid is okay. Okay as one can be after you've seen that much. I've said too much, but it's hard to care anymore. Every day I speak with people who've lived my worst nightmares. The picture is clearer, to understand the immensity of that cold hour. It really was my breaking point. A place beyond safety and goodness. It hurt then and it seems to hemorrhage now. It'll be okay, won't it? We all fuck up. At least the only collateral was a chomo. Oh no, I hurt your feelings? I wonder how the kid felt. Let's never do this again. If I hadn't, what would have become of me? It was better than siding with that bastard. It's a bit funny to me, that I've always been able to deal with blood and rotting flesh, but the line is drawn at morally complex things. tl;dr "It was just a prank, Han!" View Comments