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| Message to The Reader |
I write to purify my soul.
To scour that which lurks in the corners, growing, slinking, naughty.
It makes me a little saner.
I'm saner than the human who just sits there, hoping that nippy little corner in your dark half doesn't show his evil face.
You're all prissy and bows, aren't you?
Oh so goddamn perfect.
Bullshit.
Everyone has the nasty bastard in there somewhere.
And he'll show up eventually.
He's there.
I just excise him proudly.
I like him.
I am him.
But so are you.
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