[private] don't put up your borderline.
It has been one week and four days since I have dared to leave this house, and in that time every attempt I have made to cage this monster has failed. On three separate occasions I have come to with blood on my clothes, in the lines of my palms, under my nails as though in his rage he had left gouges, as though what overtakes him is so powerfully visceral he could quite literally rend the world in two with only that inhuman strength, with nothing more than the force of his hatred.
Sedatives gave him only the barest of pause, and my memory of his actions afterward is riddled with gaps. It's nearly comforting in a sense: the simple bliss of ignorance, the pretense that it is not my throat choked with rage, not my hands which have broken and bruised and destroyed - but I cannot allow myself such a luxury, not anymore.
The medical restraints
were similarly ineffective.
Must I accept that what immobilizes Henry Jekyll barely stymies Edward Hyde? Must I descend to this place where I will never again be myself?
That self I once barely knew- but this has gone beyond me. There are those who cannot be saved, even those for whom I feel only the shell of remorse, this too is a consequence. I must keep this secret in silence, for to share it would discredit all I have done, the value of which cannot be tainted by my mistakes! I still believe in its necessity, I believe what can be salvaged must be, twenty years of struggle simply cannot be left behind this way.
To set the wheels in motion would be enough. Words I have spoken yet not wholly understood until this moment, that it is within my power to end this...all of this. If I leave this world by my own hands the world (she) will wonder and
it hurts. to be away from her.
Damn you hyde, leacve me be
my tinme is so short. if i leave trhis world by myu own hand - the wotrk i have begun can be completed by another, someone strongerthan i can resume whehre i end i know you're afraid of this i know i know you'll die if i die leave me ALONE
My time
is short.
Sedatives gave him only the barest of pause, and my memory of his actions afterward is riddled with gaps. It's nearly comforting in a sense: the simple bliss of ignorance, the pretense that it is not my throat choked with rage, not my hands which have broken and bruised and destroyed - but I cannot allow myself such a luxury, not anymore.
The medical restraints
were similarly ineffective.
Must I accept that what immobilizes Henry Jekyll barely stymies Edward Hyde? Must I descend to this place where I will never again be myself?
That self I once barely knew- but this has gone beyond me. There are those who cannot be saved, even those for whom I feel only the shell of remorse, this too is a consequence. I must keep this secret in silence, for to share it would discredit all I have done, the value of which cannot be tainted by my mistakes! I still believe in its necessity, I believe what can be salvaged must be, twenty years of struggle simply cannot be left behind this way.
To set the wheels in motion would be enough. Words I have spoken yet not wholly understood until this moment, that it is within my power to end this...all of this. If I leave this world by my own hands the world (she) will wonder and
it hurts. to be away from her.
Damn you hyde, leacve me be
my tinme is so short. if i leave trhis world by myu own hand - the wotrk i have begun can be completed by another, someone strongerthan i can resume whehre i end i know you're afraid of this i know i know you'll die if i die leave me ALONE
My time
is short.