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Untitled Part 2

    I am laying down.

    This warm euphoria, swimming through my body, pooling in my stomach, making my legs tingle in delight. A sense of dysphoria is subtle, yet there.

    I am so alone, but for now, I am happy. The artificial joy painkillers bring me are the only way I can feel any sense of happiness. Fuck. I'm so fucked.

   My bed is so warm and comfy, I want to stay here exactly like this until I die.

    But I can't. I have work to do. 

    Alright, I'll just slap my face around and force myself to sober up enough to get this done with quickly. Does my purse have everything? Yes, it does. Perfect. Ok, car keys car keys...there we go! I start my trans am and turn on Bartok. As fucking lame as it sounds, it helps me feel more, I dunno? Efficient? Mmm, nothing like going 100 on the freeway, window down, hair blowing freely in the wind, cigarettes being easier to ash. Good times. Hmm...where to park? 7/11 works. I'm parked in a dark corner, with my hand already fishing the blonde wig out of my purse. Platinum, short, and with thick bangs. Cute, right? Just because the jobs bloody doesn't mean it can't be beautiful. Actually, the blood just adds to the beauty.

    I'll just walk from here. Wearing a trench coat was a good move, it's sorta chilly. Look at me, contemplating the weather whilst making my way to end a man's life. Ha! I'm hilarious.

  Henchmen surrounding the building? Great, now I gotta be all stealthy and shit.

Oh, and some advice for those who haven't killed before and felt like God, consider solipsism! These people are nothing but sheep to me, and it definitely helps. My knife is under the fifth or so guys throat, and before his eyes can even widen the blood swims out of his neck. I let his body fall with a thud as I focus on getting to the next guy. Next obstacle, more like. Just like playing a video game, I want to get to the final level. Before I even fully realize it, I'm in an office. No, I'm in the office.