Emotional distress syndrome. The thing/disease/sensation/malady (I don’t know, whatchamacallit?) has afflicted me before. And it’s afflicting me again. Wonder whether I’ll be able to survive this attack.
I had no claim against them. I was just a freakin’ kid at school. Still in my tender years, I might have been a nuisance for the elders. Only sometimes. Nothing more than that. Perhaps Squire is right after all. My fate was probably worse than I deserved.
The difference between them and my own self was intellect. Nah, they were probably more intellectual than me. Oh, just kill this modesty. I was more genius than them. They knew it. Everyone knew it. But only genius. I was what you might call an abomination, a slur upon the name of those who claimed to be my friends. Like that kid Elva in the Inheritance Cycle. But then, Elva was useful too. Not me. I wasn’t any more useful than a pile of wet logs.
Liberalism. Fundamentalism. There lies the crux of the problem. That’s the dilemma. Perhaps you won’t understand. Perhaps you might think I am a bit crinkly around the edges. Trust me, I am. Everyone says so. I don’t know why I am saying this to you. Perhaps the raging inferno inside me has finally found a way to wreck havoc elsewhere. I have become a decrepit wreck. Perhaps, perhaps…oh, shut it! I can’t even cry. I forgot how to cry long ago. But why am I telling this to you?
They accuse me of being a fundamentalist. They accuse me of being a liberalist. What am I? A stone to be rolled between the curving peaks of two hills? Why this outrageous attitude? Why this exorbitant and malicious behavior? Why have I been condemned to d*mnation for nothing?
You like happy endings. It’s only fair, what with the somewhat primitive psyche humans have. I won’t give it to you. I won’t give it to anyone. I won’t roll between the hills anymore. I will jump. Jump from the edge of the cliff I stand upon. Jump in the abyss of darkness, jump in the chasm of unreality, dive in the ocean of despair. But then I will soar. Soar in the sky like an eagle does. For I am no more what I was. I might be no more what I as destined to be. I will change. I have changed. The heat of the transition burns my blood. It consumes the essence of my soul. And then I’ll float. Float like a butterfly, the epitome of beauty. The castle of joy is my destination. Come hither, my dear friends. We have but precious moments to pass in each other’s company. For we are going to depart. I just realized who I must be. I must be myself. And I am. Myself…