the aftermath of the bandaged cock-locket cheap shotting me with his cancer AIDS like the sore loser little bitch he is.
Well at first, it was like a non-stop fucking shouting match with the idiot. Weeks and weeks of his bullshit trying to wear me down and drown me out and never shutting the fuck up. If you’ve been unlucky enough to meet his annoying ass, you can imagine how un-fucking-bearable that was, but then it started fucking with my sight too! Sometimes, there were shadows but other times it was like looking at a double exposure; things layered on top of other things. I guess it was trying to confuse me or shock me into fucking submission by bringing up my worst fucking memories along with shit that wasn’t mine and playing it all out in front of me and- it’s hard to explain, okay?
You know, it makes me wonder… How close was this to what Whelp went through?
At least I got some relief from the fucking constant fight for control since I had the Wolf to hang onto when I needed her (that’s kind of fucking funny now, but anyway)
As much as we tried, me and Hart couldn’t always be there for Whelp. For her to be able to stand up to that on her own- she was stronger than we gave her credit for.
Whelp. Laura. She didn’t deserve any of what happened to her. No kid deserves that.
I really wish things could have been different.
But I can’t fucking change that.
Back to the point, when it realized that driving me out of my own fucking mind wasn’t going to work, the shit tried to be all diplomatic- as if I’d want to be best buddies after it made me relive all that. I told it to shut the fuck up and I kept telling it to shut the fuck up until it finally stopped trying. Why the fuck would I care what a fucking parasite has to say? What’s next? A heart to heart with a fucking tapeworm?
At least I could get rid of a tapeworm. There’s no getting rid of this shit (at least, no way that I know) but that doesn’t mean I have to get all cozy with it. It’s as close to locked up as that kind of thing can get and I’m never fucking letting it out.
I’m done taking orders and having my mind fucked with. I’m in control here; not the Wolf, not Corpsefucker, and not the Tailor or his piss-eyed pet.
TL;DR the cancer AIDS tried to break my ass down with mind games and failed. It did manage to bring some shit into sharp fucking focus though and that’s why I’m on this little road trip trying to process all of it now.
