Long-time-no-see, do you think I should give myself a name, or let you figure out who I am?
You want to hurt them, don't you? Dave, your father. Sandy, your mother. what about sweet ole Fillip, your baby brother? I notice you standing over them at night with your mother's favorite chef's knife, contemplating whether you should slit their throats or poison Sandy's famous pastries. And dear ole Daddy, oh no, it would take too much planning and manipulation to get him off the throne.
You took your mother's eyes and reassembled Fillip's organs into something a mere child could understand. caressing your mother's head, you sing her your favorite good night song.
Melodies roam the air, you tell me life isn't fair. Now you feel my anger, I keep getting strangers. Help me, I'm falling, you're dead, but your voice keeps calling.
ns 15.158.61.23da2
