De memoires van Cassandra en Cassanova, final chapter.
24-10-2009
Don't you die on me, you haven't made your peace, live life, breathe, breathe...
Dark wings they are descending, see shadows, gathering around....
Unable to give what you want, you blame me for it. I'm not perfect, and you can't stand it. You feel sorry for yourself having to cope with me. I crash, die inside, can't tell you what I know, your dishonnesty would punish me anyways...
Waking up, feeling the torture, another promise not kept. You can't let it go. You don't understand why I want it, Why I made such a fuzz about it. So you take it away. Another experiment to see how I'd react to it. And I did it again, crashed, panicked, reasons you'd never understand, and if I told you were to blame, you'd only feel sorry for yourself. I can't accuse you of it, because you're never wrong. If you are, it would kill you. And
so I crash. Because I can't give you other reasons, because I can't
make you stop doing this. I can't tell you the truth for the truth will
destroy you, and there's no logical explaination besides the truth.
That shortwires me. Sets me of. Tantrum, hysteria, everything was
there. You slap me, I crash harder, you try to hold me while all I want
is run, run like hell. I can't cope with it. I can't stand trying and
failing, over and over again. You tell me you want to know
everything. Then stop punishing me when I do what you ask me. Truth is
always ugly. And if you can keep things from me because you know
they'll upset me, why can't you trust me that I only keep things from
you that would kill you? If I told you what I see. You'd kill
yourself. Because you fail to see, that it's no big deal, that I accept
you for who you are. Stop the paranoïa, there's nothing I can do,
there's nothing I'm doing, but waiting, 'till you allow me to live
again. And stop pinning things on me that you are doing. I know what
you want, I know what you think, I even know how you feel. I really am
that connected to you, whether I like it or not. I can fucking read your
mind. And I know you know it. Why on earth are you still testing
that? Why the fuck would you want to hurt me so bad? You know I could
never tell you what I see in your head, I need real life evidence, black
on white. Whatever's in your head, you can deny it. Doesn't matter
whether I see it or not. And you'd ask me to stop, and I can't. It
doesn't work like that. I'm IN your head, if you ask me to stop, you'd
have to leave me, get as far away as possible, and then it might end, if
you hurt me enough by loving someone else. Then I'd retreat to protect
myself. No sooner. I'm waiting for it to come crashing down. You're
based on lies, charades, like all the others, you think you're better,
but you're just the same. Human. Nothing more, nothing less, you are
human. And now I see it's you that's killing me, insnaring me, this is me dying in your arms...
