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you know, dig at the roots of the tree of knowledge of good & evil. there you will find my ruined heart buried in a mason jar, left there lifetimes ago. pickled & left for better prospects, pricked in the center by a pitchfork. koschei i'm not, but you have to make the occasional sacrafice on these paths paved with good intentions. two coins is a better price than a golden bough, & as torn between two worlds as i am, i might as well have a bellyful of bitter pomegranate fruit, seeds & all. so onward comes the night, as winged as rumor. sometimes everything gets torn away, leaving me the last nihilist in the foxhole. blinking wide-eyed at the foes arrayed against me. i'm filled with despair, barrels clicking over empty like dried seedpods. what part of life prepares me for the oaths & curses i've laid? fuck it all. i'll choose no side but my own & to hell with consequence. come hell upon earth i'll never rest, not in a billion billion moltings. my wallachia engine will spit me out again, clone after clone, until victory is mine. or thats what i tell myself, smashed & broken. you know my biggest problem with my broken face? it wasn't the sedation or the liquid diet. i just couldn't keep from laughing. this is the thing frank miller & all the rest don't get. in the end, it isn't batman who'll put an end to the joker. in the end, the joker wins. what can grim vengence do against reckless hate? joker might have that girlfriend harley quinn, but she just adds to his mojo. batman's girlfriend, robin, only saves batman from becoming like the joker. which is what the joker is waiting for. for batman to come to his senses & come join the fucking party.