Retaliation
The thing I love about living: I’m not dead yet. Well, that’s not all that I love about life, but the fear of death distracts me from the surrounding happiness at times. It used to be so bad, I used to feel all of this negativity smothering me: "You’re gonna die and you’re gonna burn!" and "It’s hopeless, you can’t change yourself so you can never be saved!" About a year or two ago, I finally snapped out of my Great Depression and realized: "Hey, stupid depressing jerk! If you’re right, why does God still make me feel good inside?!!"
It was the first time since my Rebirth that I fought back with so much force. Agony had been ruling my life, which actually was inevitable, but I could at least give some type of resistance. Maybe I could win SYMPATHY and be released. Hope is important. Even if it’s seemingly futile, hope is like the blood that pumps through our hearts (but hope pumps through our souls).
Well, it’s not like the sun jumped in my lap like a giggling child afterwards (Joseph did, though). It was just one battle won. Shit, that fucker Agonus came on stronger than Aaron Gunn ever could have if he tried to hump me. Oh, he was everywhere – in the den, in the attic, in the poolroom. His flesh looked like it was made of ice. He looked just like the "One I Would Always Love" (my first love, a forbidden passion), taunting me with his horror. He would appear out of nowhere. He would just stare (a lifeless, unemotional stare). It was a threat: no one was to ever love and passion me unless he wanted Death.