Preparations underway.
Gotta get rid of this burden called love.
Monumental tasks have never been this easy.
I'm looking it from the wrong way.
I'ts easy to drop a bomb, or pull a trigger.
I'll suffer through the aftermath of this for certain.
What must be done, must be done.
I'll no longer be an emotional threat to the girl I probably could have had married and settled down with. Theres nobody else in the world I want right now, nobody else could possibly better the way she makes me feel... after a few hours with her I felt as if I could move mountains... enough nostaliga, thats all going to change starting tonight.

The next time I read these words I'm going to have changed. Maybe even changed back. How many people will I explain to this as magic? How many people will I tote the proccess as nothing but the power of suggestion I have over myself. To admit that would make it seem fraudulent, and observer would think admittance of such active brainwashing should enlighten or scare away the boundaries... but I'm not the one who built these cages. That is what I must remember to tell everyone. The dumb ones can think it's some pagan god, but all the chanting of latin and nordic runes summoned Pointy.

If it all goes to plan he is/was now active in my concious mind, filtering out my obession with this poor girl. I can only wonder with utterly morbid fascination how this pact will evolve and result given the curcumstances that brought it into play. Pointy knows that I am in control, but I've granted authority, and risked the negative flow associated with such unprecedented assistance. No matter what passes, his lock on my shall remain until the next full moon, only then does the struggle allow for such pacts to be initiated or revoked.

Goodbye, love.
Next time I see her, hear her, or think about her she'll be no different from the rest.
Just another piece of meat spraying words and feelings within its predefined world.