September 7, 2013

My Christ in disguise, my now slaughtered lamb. I stood as your disciple, as the one fated to betray you. I know less than I ever did. It was always that, even in your silence, you were louder than me. Forgive me. Someone has to, and it will not be me.

I will never again be so many things, and from this day forward, so much more than I ever was. Time will tell whether it is for good, or directly on the other side of anything than can be considered that.

I am calling to you. Can you hear me over there, my hellhound? Tell Hades I said, “fuck you.” He had the last laugh.

Days before Ruey’s death, I had a strange dream. This is not uncommon. In the dream, I sat among friends, eating dead flesh. A hamburger, or something equally boring and American. Someone remarked on how strange they found the sight of me eating meat. I responded that since I killed my king, it no longer mattered to me if ten million animals died.

I should have paid more attention. To the dream. To my thoughts. To when my heart spoke.

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September 7, 2013

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