I never screamed that loud in my life. On the inside, of course. On the outside, it's easy to scream, but on the inside, it takes a lot to make me scream that loud to myself. I had behaved cruelly and viciously, almost blindly, without feeling, I had discarded emotion for convenience, and like a rampaging dinosaur I trampled those I loved. Hooks appeared and sank themselves deep within me, shocking me awake, stinging my awareness; "you are like a brick, emotionless," and by this point, my emotions told me they were right, and so I deserved what I got, which was, being pulled apart by saudadic vengeance as sharp as a string quartet.

At some point, I will throw my hands up in the air and announce that I am quitting. That the best of my intentions will always turn out poisoned, and it's best to simply start all over, without you around. That will be another case of my discarding emotion for convenience, but I will do it with purpose, and with feeling, and I will do it then and there for the very last time; your vengeance will have worked, and you will feel still lonelier and lonelier, and I will become so emotional, so non-brick-like, because I will have left your hooks behind. This is what I imagine when I am most truly aware of the punishment you inflict. Your hooks are hypocrites; but they are sharp nonetheless.