That's quite the contradiction, don't you think, Ciarán Cú?
[ He can smell it in the air. He can smell the poison and can only be happy that it seems like it is something that can only cause harm if it touches the skin. His gaze shifts to look toward the black muck that has been spit upon the street. He drifts his eyes up -- there is something like disappointment that briefly shows before it fades away.
A dog is a dog no matter what he does to try to hide it. ]
"She means nothing to me. I want to kill her. She still means nothing to me. The life I live is to spite her." [ His shoulders lift and fall. Truly, a mad dog that is snarling and barking at an old, abusive master. ] Yet now you can feel and don't even know how to do with those feelings.
You should attempt to be more honest. [ He huffs out something like a laugh. Indeed, if the person before him was not trying to "live," he may have been a little concerned for himself. But no, the person that walks beside him is someone that has taken on the morals of others. He may end up badly beaten, but he won't be killed.
There is solace in that, because it means that Ciarán Cú could and has been properly muzzled to keep himself from doing so. A muzzle and chain of his own making -- and all in order to live a life for himself. ]
She's still your entire world. You don't know how to live your life without thinking of how it will hurt her. Even if you don't realize it, you compare every moment to what has happened to you. You think if it is something that would upset or anger her... that you've won. [ He stops. ] You didn't choose that name for yourself, did you?
No, you wouldn't even know what to call yourself. You're still nothing more than a wish a selfish woman made. I don't know what life you are living, but I can only say... it's still for her that you live it.
no subject
[ He can smell it in the air. He can smell the poison and can only be happy that it seems like it is something that can only cause harm if it touches the skin. His gaze shifts to look toward the black muck that has been spit upon the street. He drifts his eyes up -- there is something like disappointment that briefly shows before it fades away.
A dog is a dog no matter what he does to try to hide it. ]
"She means nothing to me. I want to kill her. She still means nothing to me. The life I live is to spite her." [ His shoulders lift and fall. Truly, a mad dog that is snarling and barking at an old, abusive master. ] Yet now you can feel and don't even know how to do with those feelings.
You should attempt to be more honest. [ He huffs out something like a laugh. Indeed, if the person before him was not trying to "live," he may have been a little concerned for himself. But no, the person that walks beside him is someone that has taken on the morals of others. He may end up badly beaten, but he won't be killed.
There is solace in that, because it means that Ciarán Cú could and has been properly muzzled to keep himself from doing so. A muzzle and chain of his own making -- and all in order to live a life for himself. ]
She's still your entire world. You don't know how to live your life without thinking of how it will hurt her. Even if you don't realize it, you compare every moment to what has happened to you. You think if it is something that would upset or anger her... that you've won. [ He stops. ] You didn't choose that name for yourself, did you?
No, you wouldn't even know what to call yourself. You're still nothing more than a wish a selfish woman made. I don't know what life you are living, but I can only say... it's still for her that you live it.