Friday, August 19, 2005

Crawling on My Belly -- Believer

Good evening, Madam Gorgon, Enchantress, Heather, Fellow Travelers, Residents and Reptiles. I greet you all and wish you a very happy and prosperous New Year. I am required by the House of Reptiles and the small print in our tour contract to give a presentation tonight. I stand before you at a loss with nothing to present but a confession. I hope you will forgive me if what I am about to say scarcely fits the festive mood of this splendid banquet.

You see before you a liar and a thief.

I don't make my living this way, although if the opportunity presented itself I certainly would. On the contrary, I engage in these activities simply for my own enjoyment. I am not yet a murderer, but I have no doubt the time will come when it will suit my purpose to take a life and I shall do so with only minimal regret. Considering how long I've been luring people into precarious situations just to watch them struggle and claw their way out, killing's not a big step.

I have been labeled two-faced and duplicitous, called a chameleon, a snake in the grass (forgive me) and a vulture and I cannot in good conscience deny any of these. Conscience is the only reason for this confession, this unburdening of what little soul I have left, but don't be deluded into thinking it means that I repent or resolve to change.

No, I will continue to present myself as a kind-hearted, trustworthy person in order to steal the words overheard in libraries and churches, spy on lovers as they quarrel and innocent children as they play. I will still encourage sweet old ladies in supermarkets to tell me their life stories and then roam the back alleys and pick over the bones of those who live in the shadows to discover their miseries and vices along with that one spark of hope that keeps them alive.

Like a jewel thief who re-cuts and resets each sparkling gem to remain free, I'll twist and rearrange every incident and encounter until it is unrecognizable, denying my victims even the small pleasure of recognizing themselves and their lives.

Ah, I see a gleam of self knowledge in the eyes of some of my older listeners, as well as a trace of pity in the young. Do not be deceived, we are all treading the same path! What I do today or have done--you will do tomorrow. There is no turning back, there is no escape. We are writers.

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