It's not like I don't have doubts, I do. I never let them show and no one's called my bluff yet but that doesn't change the fact I have to live with them. Passing through airports and hotel restaurants are the times when the doubt rises up to bite me the most. I relax, look around and smell the roses that are not mine. I look at the couples and families around me and ask, "What if?"
What if I were in a relationship, would I still be an assassin? Would the needs that drive me here disappear, enabling a path to me that's now denied? What if I'm not who I think I am? Thing is, I can go by no one's thinking but my own. I shared myself once - and it was as wonderful as the stars - but I could not confess my assassinating ways in the end. Now the person I most want to be with the most least wants to be with me. I don't want to be with me either...
If I were on trial judged by limited human minds I'd always be convicted. They have no idea of their skewed thinking and false moralities. To their simple minds, everyone must fit in the same box, end of story. Of course, it's just another trick to avoid self-examination but when one has no true morality false morality must suffice. But I have no choice but to face myself and I cannot live in your 9-5 concentration camp.
I have to admit on one hand it's exhilarating living outside the system and societal norms. That's what feeds me and keeps me playing the "What if?" game as I stare through the impenetrable glass wall that separates me from paradise. I especially remember that moment in that Dallas hotel, peering down at rush hour traffic snaking its way through backstreets, lives rules by stop lights and wasted time. Thank God I'm not part of that river of death! Just because your willful self ignorance prevents you from realizing what you do does not give you the right to mandate my death.
Sitting in the resort sun listening to high-powered CEO's gloat on their expense paid seminars is like eavesdropping on a KKK meeting: they open up when believing they are surrounded by like minds. Most are in their position more from ambition than ability. It's the fact they are so undeserving of the lifestyle they lead they cherish the most. It's their own private god and the underlying giddiness at having fooled the world has them feeling as men of special worth. One day, they will be the last in line.
When I'm around such people I don't feel so bad. They are leeches living off the honest efforts of the builders and innovators of the world. Were such artificial souls left to fend for themselves they'd live in dire, helpless squalor. Maybe that's why they despise and disdain those who exist in squalor the most. I only wish I could walk over to them with some sort of mirror so they could see themselves as I see them. But how can an assassin lecture anyone?
Yes, for the most part I walk around with a sense of inferiority. I don't think anything of my intelligence. That's merely a trait, like having brown eyes. A home can be a prison but having no place to rest is also a prison. I try not to get too down on myself when I see the families interacting at the airport lounges. In simple honest moments of a mother tending her child I'm struck by the vast wasteland that is my life. I look at all those who are a part of things and I feel I am the lowest of the low.
It's just the way I'm wired, killing people doesn't bother me. I only feel good when I'm doing bad. Killing relationships, however, haunts me a lifetime. Is that what "Thou shall not kill" truly means? There has to be a way out I'm not seeing. To give up my career is to die. To give up relationships is to die. How can I ever combine the two? Are feelings alone really enough? How can I bring my lawless ways into the life of she I respect the most? I crumble in the guilt and shame.
Goupil: International Hit Man. Who gives a flying fuck?
To provide hope for my cold discomfort farm, I solaced myself with the idea of the moral superiority of my fellow earthly inhabitants. I need only join the non-killer elite to find refuge and redemption. You are the ones pursuing your lives. I am the one pursuing death. I can look to you for guidance and knowledge of life. Even if I never take advantage of it, just knowing that was out there when lighting my nightly lonely fire provided my one hope. I, the great Goupil, sit at your feet.
But, oh, what a shot to the head to find your souls to be just as lost as mine! Like a man who had bet his life on the sun rising in the west, the veil slowly lifted as I watched in stupefied horror the sun rising in the east. My supposed world turned upside down. "It can't be! It can't be! It's only the moral who have families!" But they send their children off to war, to coldly kill just like I do! No no no! Not everyone can be a killer! Where's the hope in that?
Have you see the returning American soldier? He walks with a furrowed brow and confused eyes praised by his braying parents. In Mexico (where I refuse jobs because I trust NONE of those fuckers), the Americans fund drug wars killing 100,000 while terrorizing an entire nation. Hundreds of thousands of child soldiers are drugged and used as cannon fodder around the world. Slave parents beat the life out of children until they too accept slavery. Why create a family only to destroy it?
Oh, shit. I cannot rely on you for survival. Like a CEO, I'm a leach upon the moral too. I wanted a free ride while the "responsible majority" keep us alive. But there is no responsible majority! This has taken all the joy out of my work. I must look to myself to be the responsible one. Fuck! This awakening has been by far the worst, most earth shattering experience of my god forsaken life. Everyone's a goddam killer just like I am!