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Desperate Cry for Help 018
So who was this mystery person, waiting to take me down? Waiting to bring me back to earth, crashing, falling, screaming, exposing me for the loser I truly am?
OF COURSE I knew the bastard - it was me all along.
I couldn't let myself be successful, or happy, or on top.
I dragged myself down through doubt, and liquor, and trying to ease the pain of promotions and achievement.
So, I worked overtime to get myself in situations that would jeopardize and ultimately destroy me.
Life is just fucked like that, children.
And after my ill-advised trip to Nevada, and my murderous rampage, and my imprisonment, I fashioned a crude gun out of bits of scrap metal and then waited, acting perfect, so I could be here today, with YOU -
My little hostages.
And thank you for being so pleasant.
Anyone want a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?
I'm sure I could demand a few, before they rush in with concussion grenades and end this little happy time we have together...
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