I cannot find words to express my feelings…

In fact, I don’t think I have any feelings any longer… The only emotions that I have, that I experience are hostility, anger, repulsion, disgust… I am also tired…

All I want is to go into an era, long forgotten, long past…
All I want is to go into a fight. No rules, no limits, no restraints, no remorse… Just be in a fight…

Walk into the arena… No loyalties, no alliances, no friends, no enemies. Just survival. You will betray. You will be betrayed. Accept it, embrace it, live with it. You will have enemies, not friends. You can only rely on primitive feelings, archetypal memories deeply buried under years of suppressed feelings. I will betray you, I will taunt you, I will use you, I will love you, I will hurt you and I will kill you, irrelevant of what I will feel afterwards… I will enjoy every single moment of it, because I know of the pain that will follow…

I will walk in the middle of the arena, I will stare everyone, straight in the eyes and I will challenge every single one; taunt them, provoke them… Try to make them attack me… Try to make them hostile… It will make everything easier after that…

Coming from every direction, it is easier to deal with… All I need to do is flow amongst them, hit anywhere there is an opening; dodge the strong ones, allow the weak ones to connect, make them think that I am getting tired, that I am weakening… Make them drop their defenses, make them be less aware…

And then… I will hit… Hard… aim to kill, aim to hurt… No pattern, no sequence, no plan… no more calculated actions, no longer connected to conscience and reason… Soon, I am beat… Soon I will lose… But I am filled with energy… pain reminds me that I still feel… I need to numb my senses, I need to obscure my mind… Pause, for a glimpse… I look at my hands… covered in blood, torn so much and so hard from the teeth of my victims and their bones… the skin is no longer on the knuckles, my fingers broken… that image is stimulating my anger, the pain feeds my rage… my old friend returns… rage… everything is covered in a red vale…

I look again, only to see that I am the last man standing, my hands wrapped around the neck of an unknown, innocent for all intents and purposes man, dead, with a snapped neck, glassy eyes and a contorted face, a mask representing the pain I caused him before I terminated his life…