March 12, 2011
You could've assaulted yourself in any old way, but the way you ended up assaulting yourself, I have to admit, was genius. No one suspected anything amiss. No one thought anything was even wrong with you. They looked right at you; I saw them look at you, and what did they see? Nothing. Or at least not the thing they should've seen. They saw perfection. The kind of perfection that hid everything. You were the best. I wanted to be like you. From the moment I knew what you were doing I wanted what you had...the stuff to kill.