Mortar and Murder

     It took me actually caring about someone, crushing them, and devoting my life to destroying myself before I came to a realization that this life is a symbiotic parasite. You hate something so much but need other's images of you to be pristine so you find the weak spot and twist it, stab it, pet it, console it, and use it until it no longer holds any mystery for you. When you're done you sneer at this little creature that you've caged and resigned to your little menagerie. And when and if it's caretaker dares bother you again, you open the cage and sick the rabid little beast on it's own master. Now you are in control. With so much out of your control you have finally found something that's yours, and the caretaker is forever at your mercy until they realize what you have done, if they ever do at all.  
 
     You seem so detached but that is you in the mirror with the gun to your head screaming at them to pull the trigger and when you/you finally relent and decide it's not worth suffering anymore there's a brief moment of silence and that's all you ever wanted, just some quiet that you could call your own, and experiencing this, you/you decide to not pull the trigger. You look over and the person you damaged is still there.  But after all you've done, they forgive you. Maybe it's their weakness that tells them that they need you no matter how much pain it causes them or that you are not past redemption, which would be molding you into something that they want, need, or can use.    
 
     Now, of course, you have become disposable, the toy; you have found the crack in your own wall and started hammering at it because you are just tired of it being there and your world, day after day, helps you tear that m&t%$#fu*&%r down. Chip by chip, brick by brick, the pieces fly past your face and amongst them you find not one piece of sincerity, not one thing that would make you want this wall to stand one second longer.  
 
     Until... you get that brief glance of what's on the other side: the rest of the world. The rest of the twisted, miserable, mass of corruption, greed and fear that you have even less of an idea of how to deal with than your own. So now your choices are clear: Tear down this wall and let the biomagnetics of pain caused by hollow mental concepts take it's course and gather to you those of similar sufferings or; leave what's left of this wall intact and shut out the rest of what you cannot be sure of. Any measure of security and self-preservation would be welcome at this point. As you consider your options, you let your back rest against the wall, just a moment's rest, and you slowly slide down, in tears as it dawns on you with a certain snideness that there is no defense and your games were ultimately self-defeating and you have caused more evil than good, it's just you and your wall now. Drop it and the entire world becomes your pain, leave it standing and you may never see the light of day again.  
 
     You whisper a prayer to a deaf and calloused God and drift off into a troubled sleep knowing that when you wake, it will still be just you, the wall, and your decision that is left.