After all this I'm almost sure I can take any thing shot my way. I only reassure myself by thinking the ammuniton must be running low.
I hate to feel defenseless and unarmed, especially since life has never shown me much of peace. Seems like I've always had to fight or brace myself from these kinds of circumstances that keep arising. Time and time again I've come to realize I can only depend on my own resources. It makes me feel so naked and vulnerable this way. Been feeling that alot lately in the past few months. They were all inconsistent, but I am slowly making reparations. I can't afford to be that way...
The more I think about this, and my life, the more this makes sense. This reflex is in me. So dammit, keep on shooting. And if you sink one, it's just a flesh wound. When the little bugger runs out it best take caution. Cause that will be my time to retaliate.
& everything in between
Musics
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"It's only a flesh wound!"
Indeed such trials can be rough, and perhaps that's the point. I suppose that I can claim responsibility for what happened to me, and I know that you'd care to argue, but I could lay out the points in such a way that there would be no rebuttle. And yet, I don't claim full responsibility.
I've always, for some odd reason, tried to train myself for the worst case scenarios. I've planned for the end of the world, and honed my senses to be on the prowl for things that will never accost me. And yet, I wasn't prepared for this heartbreak. The shooting is easy, for me. It's the shooter that hurts, not the fact that I'm being shot at. I never trained myself for an enemy with a face...
And I let that shield down, and down and down, and then I was struck. I knew I would be, but for some reason I couldn't admit it. And so that is the fault of mine. I could have parried the blow... But now I just need to dust the cobwebs off that shield and charge out into the darkness. Again alone, but perhaps safer...
Anyways...
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