HOOD

Worthless

     This is always fun. You know, the little bits of time between being busy and being bothered by madness. The small amounts of free-time. Free from everything. Can't let my thoughts overwhelm me, though. It's why I like to stay busy. Why I hate being alone... but, then again, madness can drive a person, whether it be to the top or to the end. Although, I feel like it's music that drives me the most. Personally, I like Thrash and Grunge. Depressing? Not at all. My favorite is a ninety's band called Narvini. I also like the bands titled Graan Dey and Popo Raoch.

     Oh, well. We can't include all of that. It's too boring to listen to for extended periods of time. Let's skip to something more interesting. Like, maybe,  sixty percent of people actually cared about the broadcast from before talking about what I did. I've seen some interesting discussion-forums either informing people about it or speculating about what it could mean. C'mon, was it not obvious enough on it's own. I was just trying to save myself...

     Ok, maybe it wasn't that obvious, but, still. I'm not affected by it. Why should people care that I came up out of nowhere, did that, and vanished. It only killed a few people. Numbers. Statistics. Worthless. Gone. Dead. Forever. I did that. I won't let the past haunt me. Not any more than it already has.

     I learned just recently that Dalis killed herself.. in the AI form, I guess. That's the simplified version. Realistically she sort of made the college-level mistake of downloading .exe files to her software. Rest in peace? Oh, well. I'm sure she has more meaning than a lazy author would give. 

     Mathew has been working on a backflip. He keeps landing on his back. It's fun to watch. I might be skilled but I'm not over powered, yeah? I can't do everything. 

     The next week passes. Then a few days. It might be Thursday? Oh, well. It's a day. We just kind of sit around now. Why? Falsetto? What's going on? What's in your head. He notices me staring at him. He can read my eyes. He speaks.

     "If you wanna know the truth, then ask me a question. I'll tell you something that you may want to hear... but I'll lie."

     Can he say that? Let's just say he can and go with it. 

     "Nothing," I say.

     This is going nowhere.

     "Do a backflip!"

     "Bet!"

     I spoke first and Mathew spoke second. I'm not entirely sure what's happening right now. It's beginning to feel as if I'm lying to myself. 

     You are.

     Dad? 

     You doing both everything and nothing. Your life is headed nowhere. You die in a month.

     Wow, how positive. What are you, intuitive? My subconscious? Why a month? A month exactly?

     Yes. No. Intuition. Sadly, yes.

     What if I can stop it or if you're wrong?

     You can't and I'm not.

     At least I have a deadline. Oh, and I guess voices in my head.