No Quarter

You’d best believe that means what it says, and best believe it’s relevant to you.

This is me at my worst. Selfish, angry, cruelly critical, hungry – starving, addicted, destructive and reckless. This is what it will cost you, every time.

There is a petulance that grows when one is denied one’s addictions and won’t suppress the desire. I am self-centered, self-serving, greedy, arrogant and narcissistic.

I am listening to Yamaoka’s Silent Hill 2 soundtrack.

I am desperately deconstructing everything around me in a frantic attempt to make it all more interesting than it is. This is what the addiction is like to feed and it must be fed.

I am stemming the flow of outward projection of disappointment onto everyone around me. At the very least, I retain the ability to distinguish the difference between my perception of people and the reality of people, much of which is obscured and rightly so (ha! – but not today, let’s leave that one well alone).

I am burning up all of this energy and some of it is being used on work. That is not amoral. At the moment it feels like the most immoral and perverted thing for me to be doing during the day. Nevertheless, I still do it. I have a whole range of addictions that require feeding and I guess living is one of them, surviving – surviving is an addiction – survival kills.

Let me sit and stew in my self-obsessed revelry in my own cleverness. Let me celebrate my own postmodern-tragica. I’ve never understood it with such clarity before and now I understand. I Understand. That is the difference between you and I. We are all of us dirty, but I am happy to be seen as such.