because

because he's dead.

because he died.

because some little girl managed to do a shitton more than me, and resisted whatever the hell he does.

did.  What he did.

I'm not a full on expert on the subject, but I've done my homework.  When this Almaga...Amalgamation Sage showed up to argue with whoever this is, I wasn't surprised.  They've met. In some form or another, at least. Given the fucked up shit I've read on his blog, well, I don't know what's going on with him.

But I *do* know what's going on with you, faker.

Heh, I sounded like Shadow a bit there. 

Here's the point.  I was at the spot you were, man.  I threw it all away, I wanted it done, I wanted it just to be mother fucking over.  I couldn't take the stress, the strain, the weird feeling I get whenever its nearby, like a mental scream that reminds me its unnatural, like a natural instinct upon seeing a snake or spider, we have learned to avoid and fear poisonous animals.....fuck I'm getting off topic.

You want to be someone you're not.  You want to hide.  Yeah, I get that.  I hide.  I've done it mentally, and I do it physically too.  Motherfuckin walkin round covered up, bandaged up, so no one can go 'what the fuck is wrong with you?'    Sure they stare, but I know WHY they stare, and that's alright.   I wear the gear, sure.  It used to feel 'cool' I guess at first, I was pretending, like you, to be someone in control, in charge.  Fuck it felt good,  I would imagine people pissin their pants when I showed, because I was the fuckin show, and the spotlight was set.

I don't know if you were done dirty like me,  I don't know if you're some guy on the edge, lookin for a personality that ain't his.   I don't know if you're just a mother. fuckin. troll.   gettin his rocks off on other people's grief.   Maybe in that way, you ARE him.  There's a reason pictures of Redlight show him with a troll face.  But that's ALL you are.

I found it frustrating,  hell I was motherfuckin catatonic for a bit.  The idea of being on a string, dancing to another's tune.  It haunts me,  I'm not ashamed.  I don't want to be a plaything for noodle arms, for the Faceless.  I. Won't. Be. Yours.

Talk your trash, all you're getting from me is an ass kicking.