My body is a blade, I feel points coming out of parts of myself, spikes that’ll cut you and spread my soul into other hollow shells, so maybe it was okay nobody ever wanted to touch me in the first place, just left me wandering around in circles for such a long time and now they’re mad that this is what got me out of it, that I’m ascending, this death spiral toward burning up in the sun, that’s where I’m going, and my eyes have become so glassy, when I look up I don’t even see it anymore, I don’t see anything, there’re pieces of dead skin flaking off my body more and more every day fluttering down in the wind to the ground and becoming dirt, like the rest of my body will, like yours is now, I killed you and I feel great about it, I feel amazing even, I wish I had the guts to do it again, to bring you back and make it slower this time, because there’s no hell for people like you or me there’s just whatever you left on the body of your victim, or your killer, so if I pulled out every part of you that made you tick and painted myself with it, that’d be the only proof you existed anymore, because you’re dead and I’m not! You’re dead and I’m not! But I’m worried if you cut me open that’s not even what you’d find, just rust, and and and and… and and…
Video 16.