derivative

[the incessant babbling of a future mental patient]

I met myself.  I must say, I was not impressed.

This was not the me that I know, or think I know.  This was another me, one that rears his head when least expected, to plant the seeds of negativity in the minds of those around me, while I am left to deal with the rampant crop of idiocy that blooms soon after.  In others, he inspires doubt, disbelief and uncertainty towards me, my integrity, my ideals and my resolve.  Through action, through words, he commands a presence of a nature that is the polar opposite of that which I strive to be.  Ignorance and apathy are his playthings, lies become his weapons, and cruelty his entertainment.  He is contradiction.  He is violent anger and withdrawn depression.  He exists as my favorite enemy, a nemesis to be sure.

Would it be considered suicide for me to kill this veritable doppelganger?

This me I speak of I hold in the highest form of contempt.  I have lashed out at him, even threatened him with legal and violent action, but all to no avail, for he knows how empty those threats to be.  He has conspired to do worse than simply make me look bad, his every intention is focused on my wholesale destruction.  Would that I let him…

I had a meeting with this anti-me recently, in my mind’s eye.  Or perhaps I was asleep, I cannot be certain.  During this melding of thought and idea, I have come to understand his motivations, his darkest secrets, his inane sense of self.  To this end, I fancied to discover a way to obliterate this nuisance once and for all.  How surprised was I to realize that to do so would deprive me of my very existence.  A conundrum is born.

It is something rather humorous to him that he should be such a part of me, firmly established, but mostly out of view (perhaps hiding in plain sight?).  That I have actually seen him apart from myself must be attributed to my own imagination, but I had never fathomed it could be so overactive!  He reigns on high as my temper, my carelessness, and my selfishness.  He laughs, even as I write this, until he sees the contents of the following sentence.  You see, he no longer holds power over me.

That’s right, “me,” shut your pie hole.