Hello Mr shadow
There's a few things I’d like to say to you
So just sit back
And listen sir
No interruptions
Or questions
Until the end
Got it?
Great.
Let’s start.
Firstly, I’d like to say, fuck you. It’s because of you that I’ve sabotaged my own life countless times. So many potential relationships, so much fear, so much ego, all because you’re a punk. You’ve pushed me to my limits here sir, and I need you to fuck off. I don’t trust women, and I am blaming you for that. Like many Americans, I am a perfectionist–and I blame you for this also. I used to be afraid to try, due to fear of failure, without realizing failure is as natural as breathing. You view yourself as this genius champion, when truthfully sir, you are neither–and so far from either. You cannot allow yourself to be wrong, and this makes you a pretentious asshole. Talking down to people, and not realizing that is what you’re doing, is your inflated ego Mr. Shadow. You let life change you into the people you disdain. You became what you hated. Complicated relationships with women, and a father with an ‘old school’ mindset, a mother that never addressed her trauma’s or mental health issues, has turned you into a pessimist when it comes to relationships. You’re a spark Mr. Shadow–a spark that flutters in the stomach, and when the situation arises, you blossom into an unknown flame. You are hardly noticeable as a spark, camouflaged by my own psyche confirming my biases–and telling me the stories I need to hear–but you are always there, underneath the layers of delusions. This isn’t a great hello, I know this sir, but I am frustrated with my own blind-eye, when it comes to you. You’ve been with me for so long–my dark passenger–and I didn’t notice you for far too long for my liking. Just like the delusions, you have many layers–I know I am currently addressing a surface layer, and it’ll take many more letters, and many more mistakes, for me to get to the other layers that you exist under. You’re a maze inside of me, Mr. Shadow, one that I will spend the rest of my life navigating through. Somehow, we are supposed to become whole–not two separate things–not the maze and the explorer, for we are one being Mr Shadow; you and me. I’d prefer if you’d stop being such a pretentious ass-hole, and for you, Mr shadow, I will stop being such an insecure pussy. I am willing to work with you, just don’t leave me in the maze alone.
Now,
if you have anything you would like to say,
the floor is yours.
I’d like for you to name me, Clint. I deserve a name, don’t I? Surely I’ve earned that. Show me a little respect. You mustn’t forget, I am you; and sometimes, I am more you than you. I am all your insecurities, and I am all your responses to those insecurities. I own you, don’t I? For you are a man made up of insecurities, aren’t you? They fuel you, positively and negatively. That’s why you must embrace me. You’re barely more than an animal, you seek your pleasure to fill your holes. You turn to stimulation, instead of dealing with me. You turn to sex, instead of acknowledging that I exist. But we love sex, don’t we Clint? And one woman is never enough, is it--
'–Okay, times up.'
'Scared of me are you??'
'This is too much to share with them; let's keep some things just between you and me, okay?'
'We’ll see how long that lasts. We love sharing everything with an audience don’t we?
Mr middle child.
Mr failure.
Mr little man syndrome–'
'–well, its been great talking to you, Mr Shadow. I will come up with a name for you and reflect on what we’ve discussed today. You reflect too…
and let's try to get along, okay?'
'Whatever you say kid.'
-C.H.