I have a sinister streak. It is something that I have known for a long time, something I have known since I woke up within myself. There is a time in your life when you wake up, when you begin to poke around, explore the mind. You might discover a fetish, a prejudice, a fear. Me? I have found this terrible duplicity (I have found a lot more, actually...). I have lived with it, watched it develop. The way it may twist a truth, redefine a fact, shake my tongue. Many times, like the audience in a movie theatre, I have seen it do shocking, amazing things, things that have left me gasping. Yet, all the while, as I gasp, I have been thrilled, I have been delighted to expose myself to the horror, sitting through yet another murderous thriller.
This is where I should give an example of my sinistral acts. I think not.
The consequences of the streak live within me. They alter my perception of those around me; if I am like this, what are they like? I am not sure if it is right to judge others based upon the knowledge of myself, then again, what else do I know? The ramification of my deception is to live forever in doubt of the authenticity of my experience. I know how easy it is to distort reality, to live within the multiple levels of a web of deceit. Do others seek to entangle me as I do them? With no answers, all I can do is prepare my traps and wait for dinner. Unfortunately, I am not as nimble as a spider; sometimes as I weave the thread I find I have caught myself.
Sometimes I fear the filter of my perception is clouding the clarity of what is really 'out there'. I imagine the fear of one that becomes trapped by their own mind, the inescapable enclosure of the thoughts we ride upon. I have seen men in the streets scream at bricks in a wall as though they were an arch-nemesis, I have seen a person chat to thin air as though a close friend. Thin air, from my point of view...
