"devil: the personified spirit of evil. an evil spirit; a demon."I've been called the devil or evil since I was little. I've never taken offense to it, in that people found me to be devilish. I've thought about it, about what makes a person evil and if I was. But I realized even though I have a tough skin; even though I can look at pictures of death & torture without turning my head and listen to a baby crying without flinching; I do not care as easily as others do; even though I am nowhere near the psychological idea of what a female is, I realized that I never gave in to my urges to stab somebody I hated in the neck, watching the blood flow as they slowly died; I never smothered a screaming, obnoxious child; I never swung a metal bat at the head of an annoying friend. Ofcourse I have evil in me, I have a lot of it; but essentially I am good because I never let the evil side take control. It is vain to think some people have no evil in them, it is ignorant.
Part of me wants to stay so others can live better, part of me wants to leave so i can live better, part of me is thinking i'm realizing that those who want me to stay, never thought about my interests...Thinking in abstract really puts things in perspective. I should come with a warning label, with an instruction booklet; before someone becomes my friend i say nothing and hand them the small booklet and watch as they read. I mean yeah....I feel bad, I have a conscious. But... I'm tired of living for others. If I leave and do what I really want to do, there's a big possibility I will never see my friends again or talk to them. There's a possibility I will one day throw my phone in the ocean, I only have 4 phone numbers memorized, 1 I don't know why I would call, the other being someone I don't know if I should be talking to, and the other 2 being my parents. But it would be a nice wake up call, not for me. You take somebody for granted so easy, I should know I've taken plenty for granted. I mean yeah, it's kinda fucked up, but I relish in the fact that someone realizes they've taken me for granted and doesn't have me anymore, boo hoo. I have been through immense pain, so I know I'll be fine, no matter how many tears I cry one day. It's not my fault. I know deep down I've already made my decision, and when it's time, it will play out. My instinct isn't to care; I have to concentrate to make me care about something or somebody's feelings.
"i'm not the devil. i'm the substitute."