Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Are you people seriously this retarded?

"Cure" me? Help me? Have you all lost your fucking minds? Yeah, hi, I've been corrupted by a creature that shouldn't even exist, and you know what? You people are trying to find a cure for something with no basis in our reality. You know what that's called? You get to waste money and resources and time coming up with a big, fat, steaming pile of nothing.

Jesus, I actually stuck my neck out for some of you people. I don't know, maybe you all aren't smart enough to warrant a eulogy. I mean, really. The fuck do you people think this is, a Sylvester Stallone movie where all it takes is one big, climactic scene with a few turret-mounted 50.-cal machine guns and we get to walk into the horizon while the audience is treated to a sunrise?

News flash: We're on the highway to hell. Strap in and enjoy the ride, kids.

Monday, March 28, 2011

The Other Side

I know what you're thinking. That wasn't my body Jeff found. I never died fighting Big Blue in some blaze of glory. Hell, halfway through saying goodbye to Jean I could already hear that voice in the back of my head. By the time I actually saw Big Blue, I was in Bumfuck Nowhere, Iowa, with orders to kill some poor kid who went on the run. The choice was out of my hands. Brained him, took his food and water, started headed back to my place via bus. No police tape, no potholes in the ground, the house itself was in perfect shape. I must've hallucinated pretty badly during that time. There's barely any trace Nessa was even there.

Look, this is pretty much how things are: He's got his claws in me, so to speak. No isn't an option anymore. So I'm going to memoralize the people I end up killing. They deserve better than what they're getting, at least this way part of my conscience will shut up.

Time to put my nose to the grindstone.