~And the Chorus Swells~

No matter what anyone says, I am still an artist.

The paintings that hang on my wall that I did in a better time...they are the past. But the way I kill...now that is art.

I kill those who deserve it. I select my victims carefully. It is an art form in the purest way.

I am happy.

I watch out the window as rain falls like a curtain of glittering diamonds. Beautiful.

I can appreciate those things. I am an artist.

I killed a man this morning who called me a faggot. I hate that ass-lancing word. Used a scythe. Got the blood on my jacket. I am a person ... I do not deserve the senseless cruelty of others.

I took a girl's life today. I can't remember why. Used a knife. Got blood on my gloves.

I realized then that I am a hypocrite.

But then again...the ultimate purpose of one's life is to be happy. I am happy. That's all that matters.

The blood never gets on my skin. My hands are clean.

Clean. I wear gloves.

Yesterday I killed a man on one of my machines downstairs. I couldn't remember what he did. It was an experiment to see if they device would work.

It did.

My hands are not clean. I must watch them constantly to rid the smell of blood. But they always remind me of death.

I am happy...right?

I feel justified. I am a beautiful person, inside. ... Right?

Nailbunny stopped talking. So did Psycho D-boy and Mr. Eff. Just me and Burger Boy, reminding me that I suffer.

No. Not suffer. I am happy.

I wish Nailbunny were here. I miss him. He took a part of me away with him.

No...that's not true. That part was already missing. He just carved away an extra piece.

Bastard.

Still...I wish I could hear his "voice" again.

My bony hand is trembling as I lay it on the cold metal of the gun.

No. Nailbunny doesn't want me to die.

I am happy.

My fingers leave the gun's cold barrel, but the air in my house isn't any warmer.

God, my hands.... the things I've done....what I suffered through....god.

But I am happy. I am happy because I know I am right. I am justified.

But I killed a little girl for reasons I can't recall....that was not justified.

The things I've seen...oh shit, I wish I couldn't see them in my memories anymore. I want to fix what's wrong with me. I want to...shit, I don't know what I want.

I have no fucking idea.

Who the hell am I kidding...I have no justification. Never can. Will that stop me from killing? No. It is the last art I have. Nailbunny wanted me to keep making art.

I miss you, Nailbunny. I'm sorry I killed you. Both times.

God, I'm so sorry....

I realize I have been crying. Crying, for me, is like sleeping...I don't want it to happen, but I don't realize it happened until it's over.

I hate them. Crying and sleeping. Weaknesses, both.

The tears are so warm against my cold, gaunt face.

I'm not happy.

Bunny? Can you hear me? I'm not happy.

Can anyone hear me? Someone fix me. Someone make me happy.

Oh God...

Someone please explain it all to me.

I don't want to be myself anymore.

I'm not happy.

As I sip my Brain Freezy, I tap the play button with my thin forefinger and the music starts to play.

Beethoven's Ode to Joy.

~fini~