"I want quite desperately to be a person, but I’m not. I’m a billion different conflicting characters, trying to inhabit a gelatinous slab. Sometimes I imagine them. A billion different versions of myself, marching towards me across a grassy knoll. I snipe them down from my clock tower. Bam. Bam. Bam. I blanket the green in exquisite red; brains split, splice, splat, splash, splosh, splatter and sputter, and I flutter as I slaughter my contradictions, leaving only one survivor. Finally, I am coherent. I know who I am. I’m that guy. That guy on the grass, and no one can take that away from me. But then, sometimes, and I don’t know why, I pull the trigger on him too."
Benedict Smith (via benedictsmith