I accrue debt against myself with the cruel ease of a loan-shark. Every deficit marked-- inversely-- with cold and unyielding tender. Every time I open my mouth, I manage to spit out another oily, damning coin into my upturned palm. Each slimy disk is a due or debit owed to someone else for grievances rendered. The cost of callous thoughtlessness is steep, you see. The growing pile of metal in my hands gleams with inevitability. I watch it mount with dread.
I try and pawn off my broken currency to others. Alleviating myself of the tin-and-brass guilt a fraction at a time. But the bulk of the credit against myself is owed to very few. And those few have learned to not barter in my thinning blood and good faith, any more.
11:19 p.m. - 2014-12-17
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