A man walks into a bar, or a grocery store. I can’t remember, though I was there.
That man says to another, “Do as Jesus did.”
Confused, the other man, equally as unimportant as the first, asks what Jesus did.
I interrupt and say, “Die. You should die.”
I don’t think they liked me very much.
Words are formed out of a frustration I cannot identify. There is a need to tear down high buildings, and erase things of beauty. I am tired of so much, yet my legs will not allow me to rest. They move against my will.
The Corpse Bride continued to harass me, when she found herself in the company of friends. While this led to a feeling that our differences could only end in violence, I somehow managed to maintain my composure. This eventually paid off, when Joseph forced her to apologize, promising to leave me in peace.
She has managed to stay true to her word, but this does not matter to me anymore.