I split myself in two today. It was a
euphoric experience on par with inhaling your weight in marijuana and
shaking hands with God. I remember My First Half went to a street
corner and started giving out money to people, all the while
preaching about loving each other and the virtues of non-violence.
The populace spat on him and hurled insults too vulgar to recall
here. My Second Half sneaked up behind him with devils in his eyes
and wrapped his arms around My First Half's neck. As My Second Half
squeezed with terroristic rage, he laughed while My First Half's face
turned blue and regurgitated his insides to the sidewalk. When his
victim was dead, My Second Half stood and smiled. Then the people,
who were just wishing death upon the man he just killed, started
jeering him as they did his victim. They called him a “cruel
murderer” and threw everything they could get their hands on at
him. And that's when My Second Half exploded, leaving nothing behind
but a small baby, crying to be respected.
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