Dear halimaw,

I see that you've come back. I thought I had purged every trace of your presence by avoiding your many forms of poison.

But apparently, you are inextinguishable.

Why do you constantly come? And what spurs your constant visits?

Is it because I am an escapist?

That is the most probable reason why, me thinks, I regularly have to wrestle with you. But I do not understand why you even need to be here. Because in your presence, you always manage to create a rupture, and in your aftermath, the relationships that I have with people who matter to me are often mucked up.

I thought I had stayed clear of you for the longest time, but it is only recently that I have come to realize that you are unavoidable.

To a certain extent, you are inevitable.

This morning, as I was reeling from you, I was able to see why I had to make you visit last night.

Last Thursday, I had an altercation with a family member, and not being too big on confrontations, I opted to evade dealing with it by suppression. Just last night, during dinner, this suppressed but gnawing hatred had been compounded by antagonism from people who did not understand that as it was, my mind was already wracked with all things brooding, dark, and evil.

I had to snap.

And you had to appear.

One thing that particularly baffles me is your ability to spew out filthy words in your onslaught. And once this happens, I can no longer stop you in your tirades, because you are inexhaustible.

For some reason, even when you always leave a bad aftertaste after the mayhem that you bring, I am constantly drawn to you. When the world, me thinks, has completely abandoned me and I need to have my own bittersweet escape from the torment that is living, you always provide me with that much-needed respite.

But this does not make you any less of a monster. You are still ugly, unpleasant, and the great complicator of relationships.

I wish you death. I really do. And in your wake, I wish to extinguish all possibilities of resurrection. For both our sakes.

Yours truly, claudiopoi