Me and I - Premonitions (Letter from a dead man)

The first instalment...

...so what, I knew I was going to die... Life began to bore me...

The hardest part about choosing the path I was to thread was waking up the next day... I didn't want to.

See, the hypocrisy started when I told myself I would embrace religion when I turned twelve... The curse of knowledge.

I was more intelligent than was good for me.

I turned twelve and the tides of time swept me.

I saw madness and I cowered.

I repented of my false resolve because I realized I was not grown.

"...and by 25 I will be mature enough."

I take three seconds from my reflection time to laugh at the stupid stupid little boy.

I do not know what started me down the path of madness, maybe it was my father's blood... Maybe it was the French maiden from the turn of the century... Maybe it was just... Me.

Let us be honest, you're Pisces as I once was so you understand when I say I was depressed before I turned 12.

I got my heart broken more times than was necessary before I turned 18.

You know what makes me laugh though?

I always knew...

I have never been one to be cautious... Why be?

I reflect on those times I hung out with the shadow of a ghost... You know, when I fell in love because I had nothing else to do?

Ok, I digress.

I denounce the boy I became, who had the nerve to fall in love with that girl.

The coward that he was expected the verdict from the two kings and the mad queen.

I've never liked cold food, and now I realize Franco's death didn't make me a man...

Revenge and insomnia though.

I should have minded my business, The Rose needed tending. I am in no way a gardener.

I let it be.

There are basically two ways to die, the first is one way and the second is the other... Makes no sense?

This was my life with the maiden, the one from the sunrise, remember?

I knew, I saw the end from the start.

I was in the most perfect sandwich, it hurt but did I care?

I didn't have to, I wanted to die.

The things we do for love, for the most beautiful slice of boredom.

The roads we take towards death, as if we didn't know the true eventuality.

The story of a boy who said thank you in two different ways in his one lifetime.

The same story, told of the soldier, and his alter ego, and the story told by the alter ego of his aforementioned madness.

He once said to me, "I knew those drugs would kill me eventually, I mean look at my failing heart. Everybody likes to warn me, so what, I knew I was going to die anyway." 

Someone told me I was reckless, well I like to tell myself that but you get the point.

Everytime I pulled a stunt that made me laugh, I knew I was taunting death but death taunted me first when it dragged me into this twisted game of fate's and brought me into this life.

I touched gold, no I touched money.

Ah, the good memories, the night the elixir hit a good spot and I bragged to the winds how my father was not as rich as me.

My undoing. "...honor thy father..."

What place do you stand to judge your parents right? Right?

Life began to bore me, nothing made sense. Not like sense was my style but did I have to care?

Revenge was always my undoing, my Achilles heel.

I was gifted with words, with the perfect ways to make even the happiest of situations boomerang.

Did it work for me? Well...

A foolish boy once knocked on a quiet old woman's door and told her she was a barren witch.

Moral, she might have been, the boy might have been wrong. Yet, the boy WAS wrong.

First it was the dark four walls, the humiliating love with the illiterate, the bigger walls that broke men, and then came silence.

Painkillers will only cure happiness.

If only I had known, but I did and enjoyed every moment of nearly destroying my life till I didn't.

My heart never lied to me.

The fair maiden didn't jump ship. I was only a pawn.

Karma never forgets, I knew but did I care?

I didn't have to.