Gabriel

You look lost.

"Excuse me?" she replies.

Perhaps if you asked for assistance your life wouldn't be such a struggle.

"I don't understand," she replies once again.

You see, vision, much like fiction, is created. By the law of the crow we must first earn our epiphanies. We must not be afraid of what lies within, instead, we must take that fearless opportunity and pull it outward in order to utilize it. That gut wrenching feeling is a message, our fearful thoughts that penetrate our every move are more or less a film reel that could be burned, never to be seen again. But you see, that burn requires acknowledgement, realizing that what you are afraid of never existed.

Look around you, do you believe that when you touch yourself no one is watching?

"Well I...." she responds.

Or, maybe that's exactly what you want, an audience? An audience to carry that explosion to all who may accept it as their own? Who do you think gave you that magical power? You cannot possibly believe the blood that pumps through your human flesh created such a thing. Your pleasure is your pain, and your wildest fantasy is your worst nightmare. Everything you have been taught is backwards. You hunt to live, you kill to live, you hurt to live, but I bet it feels good to you doesn't it? Makes you feel sexy, in control. You pose for the camera as if everyone's watching, why should your quest for power by any different.

Open your eyes, whenever you're in what you would call a peaceful environment, filled with delight and other pleasantries, you become numb. Numb like a zombie with lost vision, thirsty for life you prey on the living and weak until you suck them dry leaving nothing but bones. You want what you believe you cannot have because you are never satisfied. You see what you want because that is what you've been taught. The guilt that rides your back presses repeatedly until finally, your face is smashed into the concrete by the homeless junkie that just robbed you for his last hit.

Would it be better if I told you when you were dead? Perhaps your pathetic tears would satisfy all those in your shoes. Letting them fall like rain from the night sky that has been forsaken. Covered in clouds to hide the light that you press so hard to keep from all those who may one day appreciate it. Your need for instant gratification is not welcome here, it never was, are you aware of this every time you seek to nourish yourself through the pain of another? You selfish bastard, if you only knew what you had to offer. But one cannot learn by keeping everything bottled up like some kind of foolish wind up toy. Waiting for the next customer to insert the coin to pay the toll to get you moving for someone other than yourself. Your guilt has driven you further than you have ever been. Look at you, lost, pathetic, with nothing to say.

Does it hurt when I talk to you? Does it hurt when I am in you? Does it hurt that I am you? Does it hurt to know the junkie is you? Are you an embarrassment to yourself, hiding behind all of your material goods. Do you not yet recognize the good in you ? Of course not, if you did we wouldn't be sitting here. But you see, there's a catch. Much like the fear that blacks your mind, blocks your words and numbs your lips, there is fate. The fate that brought you here, the fate that taught you everything you know. The fate that drives you to answer every question from all the adventures you have taken on behalf of all the lost souls that lure you in like the sucker that you are.

You'll wake up to realize the bright colors eventually fade, the high is never quite the same, and that last cut will never be quite like the first. It is your passionate addiction that brought you here today, your mad obsession that has kept you locked in your very own personal hell. My sweet child, the spell breaks whenever you decide to break the barriers that put u there in the first place. The clouds of revenge that haunt your mind as you live your life will always pass...

Do you wonder why people stare? Do you wonder why you stare? You get back exactly what you put out, sometimes it comes back immediately, other times it may take years, lifetimes even. You may even take on the life of another simply because of that one day your life was taken from you, and you swore that would never happen to you again. In your right state of mind if you knew something would cause you pain, you wouldn't run toward the pain stricken area.

Your prayers are always answered, but do you stop to consider just exactly who it is you are praying to? When you decide to help another, is it you who you are helping? When the worst seems to happen, could it have been the worst you were expecting? The attention you seek is the true culprit, as it is the exact opposite of what lies in your beautiful heart that has never left your side.

Yet, you must be aware of what you wish for. You wish for pain, and that you shall receive, you wish for a reason to be mad and that is what will surely come your way. You now can understand it is you who is in the driver seat, hierarchy does not exist, nor did it ever. The dark road that you fear so greatly is there to assist you along your path, in hopes that one day it will be utilized for the good of all. You must use that hurt, use that pain, mold it into your own beautiful mess and realize that you thrive off of that pressure. That extra push is part of who you are, yet you must learn how to harness it to refrain from going on a mad killing spree. You see keeping that pressure trapped is what keeps you trapped in a world that you could do nothing without if you knew the truth.

Are your words big enough? Is your voice big enough? Is your car big enough? Is your bank account big enough? Every action is based off revenue, when what you have defines you character as an individual, well, you are no longer you.You have become exactly what you fear, you are nothing more than a fictional character playing this game. Any skilled player always recognizes his best asset is his opponents weakness. Games are always based on a win or lose basis, otherwise it wouldn't be any fun.To play this game one must first educate themselves on how to defeat his opponent. Question is who is the opponent, who is the enemy in this game? Who is working with who to defeat you, who is plotting against you awaiting your failure?

As she drops her head puzzled and slightly pissed off, she moves her tense neck and gazes to the right and replies. "The game...right? That is what you are getting at?" But she hears nothing, frustrated, in an instant rage she balls up her fists and yells. "It is you who is playing this game!! You are sick bringing me here!! You twist your words and present yourself in this ridiculous manner and expect me praise you? I hate you! You are nothing! I've sat and waited for you, asked for you! Prayed for you! And this is how you appear to me! You are nothing! Nothing! All of your lies you tell only too keep me here for yourself, for what?! So I can be your personal pet! Adoring every sick thing that comes out of your disgusting mouth?! You are nothing without me! You never were! I made you, with every inch of me I made you! And now you would leave me here, alone, in my very own personal hell."

As she lay there soaking wet, freezing and weeping in her own despair, she awoke to faint sounds of applause. With no clue of where she was or how she got there, she lay naked, on a dimly lit stage in front of a standing audience, only to open her quivering hand to find a key.