This world is full of broken things: broken hearts, broken promises, broken people. This world, too, is a fragile construct, a honeycomb place where the past leaches into the present, where the weight of blood and guilt and old sins causes the lives to collapse and forces children to lie with the remains of their fathers in the tangled ruins of the aftermath. I am broken, and I have broken in return. Now I wonder how much hurt can be visited upon others before the universe takes action, before some outside force decides that enough has been endured. I once thought that it was a question of balance, but I no longer believe that. I think that what I have done was all out of proportion to what was done to me, but that is the nature of revenge. It escalates. It cannot be controlled. One hurt invites another, on and on until the original injury is all but forgotten in the chaos of what follows. I was a revenger once. I will be no more. But this world is full of broken things. Forget the past, live the present, and die for the future. I am me, I am not who u say i am, for that is not me, for if i was not me I sure as hell wouldnt want to be u cause being me is my favorite thing