Charley,
I feel like our potential is
limitless. “Our” potential being that of
yours and that of mine and every other person’s. Be it
applied individually or in a group, it doesn't matter. We’re all so capable. So very capable. That’s what I keep telling myself anyway.
The
will to follow through with this potential is something else entirely. Some of us don’t possess that will at
all. At least, it doesn't seem that way
anyway. Many of us are perfectly content
with moving along day to day at the same steady pace, living normal,
relatively-happy lives. We may not ever
reach a fraction of that potential we possess, and we may not go down in the
history books, but we die happy nonetheless.
Or, probably more commonly it seems, we die having forgotten the names
of the people who kneel beside our deathbeds.
Dementia and that sort. Perhaps
we die from a bullet in the heart, an innocent (or not so innocent?) victim of
a drug cartel. Maybe we die by our own
doing. I hope not, but I watch the news. I’m not ignorant. I know how things go.
Besides,
I don’t blame those who take their own lives.
I wouldn’t. Take my own life, I
mean. I wouldn’t do that. But I don’t
blame them. It’s a fucked up world out
there, full of liars and cheats. The
selfish types, you know. The world is
full of those. So, sometimes, how are
you to trust anyone? Even your family
and friends. Hell, say that one
particularly bad day, a day when the selfish nature of all those damned people
out there was made quite clear to you through various instances, large and
small. On that particularly bad day, I
wouldn’t be surprised if you looked at the adoring eyes of your dog, who only
wants a pat on the head and perhaps a little chow in the food bowl, and saw
only evil in the poor little thing. I
wouldn’t be surprised if you convinced yourself that the canine was plotting
against you as well, like every other mutherfucker out there, and you picked
the poor thing up and dropped him over the banister in order to mutilate him,
perhaps kill him. Maybe you’d finish the
job. I wouldn’t be surprised if you
did. If the day was bad enough. Hell, I might not even be upset by your
act. Who can expect something else? Who can?
Well,
it seems that plenty of people do.
Including yourself, I’m sure.
Admittedly, including myself also, but at least I tend to keep an open
mind. On some things.
We all
have such great potential, and we nearly all tend to waste it. Perhaps I do too. My potential, I mean. The tools I keep in my closet are cleaned
nightly, but that doesn’t erase the acts to which I apply them. I
guess I feel as if what I do is the right thing. The proper thing. I believe it, rather. Is it wrong that I take advantage of my own
potential to end the potential of others?
Probably, but who is going to stop me?
Certainly not you. Cus I know
you, just like I know every other person who will ever read this note. You don’t have it in you. You don’t have it in you to hunt me down and
slit my throat. Maybe you just don’t
care. Maybe you’re afraid. Maybe you don’t have the means or the
ability. But the simple truth is that I
allowed myself to foster my potential.
And you, you choose to squander yours with every passing moment.
So take
this note, take it and remember that you failed. That you will continue to fail. That the person who lies dead in front of you
also failed. And that I, well I will
continue to prosper. There’s nothing I
can’t achieve now within my chosen walk of life.
Turn
away, turn away and bury the person in front of you. Bury your potential. Bury the victor, the champion, the conqueror that lives inside you. Bury the killer
that continues to try and claw its way out of your pacified and civilized
brain. I know it’s there. Oh, I know it’s there. But you’ll bury it. You won’t catch me. You won’t find me. Truth is, you got it in you, but you won’t. Live on.
Live your mediocre life. Without
that person in front of you, of course.
But live on. I promise I will
be.
With
all sincerity,
The
Killer of Your Wife
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