The Vøid in Yøur Eyes

Fuck My Life

It has been nine months and John has kept himself completely sober.
Well, drug wise anyway.
He went back to lonely shots of whiskey in different bars past midnight.
As per usual.
It's as if what kept him going back to the drugs was not addiction but only Slacker's simple presence.
Poor bastard was tearing himself apart over what happened to his friend.

♫
♪Is this the real life?♪
♪Is this just fantasy?♪
♪Caught in a landside♪
♪No escape from reality♪
♪Open your eyes♪
♪Look up to the skies and see♪
♪I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy♪
♪Because I'm easy come, easy go♪
♪Little high, little low♪
♪Any way the wind blows doesn't really matter to♪
♪Me, to me♪
♫
♪Mamaaa♪
♪Just killed a man♪
♪Put a gun against his head, pulled my trigger♪
♪Now he's dead♪
♪Mamaaa, life had just begun♪
♪But now I've gone and thrown it all away♪
♪Mama, oooh♪
♪Didn't mean to make you cry♪
♪If I'm not back again this time tomorrow♪
♪Carry on, carry on as if nothing really matters♪
♫
♪Too late, my time has come♪
♪Sends shivers down my spine, body's aching all♪
♪The time♪
♪Goodbye, everybody, I've got to go♪
♪Gotta leave you all behind and face the truth♪
♪Mama, oooh♪
♪I don't want to die♪
♪I sometimes wish I'd never been born at all♪
♫

Why was this music being played at a bar late at night?
Who knows.

Tøny: "Are you gonna keep sobbing and weeping all pathetic like until you overdose and die from patheticness? C'mon, forget about it. You lost a good friend. So what? Add it to the list. Stop wasting time. It's been nine fucking months! Get up and go murder some people. I want blood."

John: "I'm tired of killing people. I'm tired of seeing people die. I'm tired of death."

Tøny: "You seriously gonna sit and sob until you're bloody dead?! I'm not gonna allow that! No, not on my watch, you won't!"

John: "I am and hopefully it'll be sooner than later. You can't do shit, so shut up."

Bartender: "You feeling okay, sir?"

"I think I just had a bit too much to drink. Don't worry 'bout it."

"Oh okay then."

"Have you ever lost someone close to you?"

"I sure have."

"How many?"

"Well, let's see here, first it was my nanny, may she rest in peace. Second was my dad, he was a—

"Yeah yeah yeah, great, great. Ya wanna know how many I've lost? I'd say around... at least fifty people. Have you lost that many?"

"No, I can't say I have."

"And y'know what's funny? Out of all those people, about forty six of them were killed by me."

"Oh. Well that's quite a few people you've killed."

"No no, I've killed dozens more than that, I'm a hitman. Well I... used to be anyway."

Tøny: "Ugh. You should be ashamed of yourself."

"I see."

"It's like, there's this voice inside my head. And it always tells me to do things. And I want to blame the voice for everything I've done so badly, but I can't. Because truth is, the voice is just me. It's just my thoughts. I just personified my most fucked up thoughts and actions into a another version of me in my mind. That's why I got no one to blame but me. Me and myself. It's been eating me up from the inside. The thoughts have been eating me up from the inside. It gives me anger issues. I throw tantrums all the time. But the kind of tantrums that get other people killed and me left drowning in a pool of blood. At first it was fun. Exciting even. I was never a guy who got easily excited so it was the only way I could feel adrenaline rush through my veins. I loved it. Got really good at it too. Killed more people that I could count. I was proud of myself. I always hated people anyway. Not a single person out there that I could care less about, I thought. But then it stopped being fun. So I just did it for the money. In my head I've kept telling myself that it was still exciting, that I was still having fun, over and over again. But deep down inside, I knew it wasn't. Then I met a woman. She made me happy, changed my way of thought, it made me think of stopping the hitman work for good. Living with her, going on long trips together. But we didn't workout. I was addicted to killing. The voice kept bugging me about it. And she didn't like that. So we broke up, and I... broke her. Just think of it as another hit, I thought. But it wasn't. It didn't feel that way. I never managed to forget. Until I met Jack. He preferred to go by Slacker. Dumb nickname I know. He introduced me to all kinds of crazy drugs. Took care of me when I was high outta my mind. Always making sure I was alright. I don't know how he did it. He took triple the drugs I took. He was used to it I guess. I went on crazy trips all around the world with him. And for once in my life, the voice went away. I didn't have those thoughts anymore. And the thought of my dead lover finally left my mind. He was my last hope. My last open gate to feeling some joy in this shitty, meaningless life. I was truly having fun. I wanted to keep at it forever. But the gate closed. And I was left... all alone again... with my damned thoughts... and my damned memories. I hate my life. I hate how it always builds up just to tear itself all the way down to hell. No matter what you do, you can't keep it up. It always goes back down. I'm tired, man. I'm tired of it."

"Cool, cool, nice chit chat we had here, friend. Listen um... the bar is closing so... I'm gonna have to ask you to leave."

"Oh, of course. I'll take a bottle of scotch to go."

Lenny walked into the bar.
Having heard the stories of the vicious Butcher's brutal massacres, he was shaking and sweating real bad.

Lenny: "Mr. Pardo, I'm Lenny Huffman, federal agent, and I'm here to inform you that you're under arrest. If you may come with me now please. Resistance would be futile, I'm afraid."

John: "Sure, sure. I was wondering when you people would show up."

John stood up, paid his bill, grabbed the bottle of scotch and chugged it all down and then he allowed himself to get handcuffed, and walked to Lenny's car with him.

Tøny: "Just what the hell do you think you're doing? You wanna live the rest of your old miserable life in prison? Huh?! You make me sick!"

John bashed his head against the car window hard.

John: "Shut up. Shut up!"