What It Means To Be Alone - The Dear Hunter from Act III: Life And Death
Archetypes | PYROMANIA
It’s the smell that gets to me the most, you know? It smells like Hell. Like you just stepped off a one-way train taking you to a meet and greet with Hades. It’s not until long after the fanatical satisfaction wears away that you feel something of responsibility. The walls close in on you; they shame you for your inability to, yet again, control yourself. It’s not until the aftermath do you think about the consequences, or even care about them, if at all. The emotional buildup is all that you think about. It has a way of squandering the willpower others have — a reminder you are different — and all you see is red. Red flames. Red fire. Red. Everywhere. I can’t explain the gratification from seeing it burn, from having started it myself. I made a continuum of chaos happen. Do you know what that feels like? In an instant you may have incinerated something, but at least you are the master of your own universe. Yeah. That’s what it’s like. Master of your universe.
1) Press play.
2) Attempt to go about your business.
3) Completely fail to do so because suddenly your life is an adventure.