so you think you can tell...

you think you understand us, but you won't.

you think you know us, but you don't.

you think we weren't prepared to lose one thing, when i was always prepared to lose anything. away from the cameras and lights, carnal rage and sin must be played close to the vest. anything spoken to you was a lie, the truths hidden from you so you wouldn't have to die.

...or pull the trigger.

...you could never pull the trigger.

...you wouldn't know how to shoot him unarmed.

these words of ours you base your inferences upon are only metaphors. metaphors do not relay reality to society, but let them escape from the harsh, unsubtle realizations of how our life works. there were actions that unveil the truths. unspeakable moments in time that would have you turn away from my face, from his scars...because you cannot look upon such a sin without regret or empathy.

psycho bitch ivy, you believe you unraveled an identity. parlor tricks shouldn't fool the sage and wise, but i suppose we've given you more credit than we should have.

but rest assured, these meaningless shots in the dark do not anger us. it is your constant willingness to not take responsibility for your role. it is your struggling acceptance of what you need to become.

you may not want to fix the fWo's problems, psycho bitch...

...but if you don't...

...it will die once more.

We can make you free.

We can make you believe.

but we will not make you, who you need to be.

that's on you, psycho bitch.

the fWo is on you, ivy.

we are killjoy.