Everything

Everything.

The word is useless. I can not stand it right now because it is impotent ... it is worthless. Incompetent. I am angry with it for being so pathetic and not worth the syllables it takes to form it on my tongue. I hate it because I need it to express myself and yet I find it falling terribly short of the mark I wish it to reach. And yet I keep using it like some deranged lunatic stuck in an unbreakable cycle of insanity that plays over and over in an inescapable loop.

And that is all very dramatic for saying .. I am frustrated.

I have a terrible temper. It consumes me sometimes. Like plain's fire it rushes over me in white hot heat that sets all my skin ablaze and I find myself saying and doing things so different than what I want. So separate from what ... who I think I am. I attempt not to deny this .. I attempt to make it very clear to people. I come with warnings .. self expressed and I think that is going out of my way really to compensate for this .. this thing I can not control.

I am at war within myself. I rage at myself for needing protection and I rage at the darkness for protecting me when I do not want to be protected. It does about as much good as getting rid of my Ubar's guard. It happens .. not often ... and not without a lot of careful planning and devious plotting. Most of the time I do not have that kind of time available to me.

I was angry at T'zuri and I let loose with her .. yet again. Not physically .. but my tongue can lash and cut just as easily if not more effectively. I was angry at her for being human. For allowing circumstance and time to sweep away at everything. As if she had control of these things. I was angry at her for caring about Kaz .. for begging for his life as if I am nothing but a monster. I am .. but I do not like being faced with it. Not from someone whose opinion matters to me. It hurt .. it was like her voice ... that fear in her eyes .... that panic brought back every face of every person I have ever set my blade to and tortured to death. Every cry and scream for mercy was written all over her face and I died a little inside. That man is supposed to be kept behind the mask. That night I was exposed for who I am and .. I did not like it much.

Was it all written there in my eyes? In the blackness? All the darkness all the pain and torture .. did she know it then? Could she read it like the message of the drums as my blood pounded in my veins and pulsed at my temples ... did she recognize that beast for what it was?

But I said none of this to her.

I tore her down and ripped her apart and did what I do best.

And then .. she gave me everything.