1.1; Here's my confession

I don’t think anyone on the Internet gives a damn, in reality, but some part of me is paranoid that things won’t be clear to the right people. If they ever find what was documented last night, I mean, obviously. Besides, now that Curtis got nosy but justifiably so, I won’t wait for someone to out me.

So here goes:

Q: What do you get when you cross a Blood Vessel with a sixteen year old prostitute?

A: A Mark.

I did what I had to do to keep myself from being homeless. I was just a kid and I didn’t know these things existed. Don’t anyone ever freaking think that I bear this Mark with pride like some of those sick fucks do.

I’m one of the ones who have this Mark in me with no say. I don’t want it, never have, it disgusts me to the core and yes, I am ashamed. Anyone with any fucking sense would be. I quit all interaction with people to keep it from being the driving force in my life. If I hadn’t started getting chills, I would have KEPT avoiding people – little boy blue targets people in seclusion, right?

So reaching out to people online, that seemed safe. Ha fucking ha.

Knew it was a matter of time, and last night I almost broke. It won’t happen again.

Also, yes, I’m aware that wanting every proxy on earth to die bloody and in pain makes me a hypocrite.

Be fair. When did I ever say I wasn’t one?

There you go, Curt – I already told you all that, but if you wind up reading this, I came clean and now Blair might see this. If s/he does, somehow – Blair, I’m sorry for not telling you. And I’ll tell you whatever else you want to know, when we get you out of the Tower.

Sheryl, if you read this, I’m sorry for not telling you, either. But I’m not like them, and I’m still going to help with this business regarding that Doll and your daughter. If I can fight one relapse, I can fight them all.

I think that’s everything. The only thing that could make this more pathetic is if I closed with some angsty one-liner.

Dispute Against Madness