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On Crank and Glass
Kristina Speaks Up
I’m not exactly sure where to begin, but to describe where my heart was at the beginning and how it got lost along the way. Any way you look at things, I’d like it to be known that I’ve always wanted to do the right thing. Even when it came right down to destruction and carnage in my wake, I looked upon myself in a kind of helpless and detached way: a flailing passenger on a tumultuous runaway train destined to destroy everything in my path, knowing my own demise will be eminent upon encountering the slightest obstacle yet unable still to do anything but watch on autopilot and hang on for dear life.
I don’t blame anyone for my actions, or try to blame a bad childhood for my faults—in all actuality, I had a very privileged upbringing. I didn’t really see it as such, being your typical teenager, but my problems weren’t anything to put into a storybook. I believed I was “blooming” when I began acting out, and I really did create a kind of alter-ego to carry the guts-and-glory part of things through. Without that part of me I may have actually become valedictorian and gone on to college. It’s a tiny bit scary that this same me could quite possibly have been a judge or lawyer and responsible for defending or condemning the very same kinds of people that I ultimately became, isn’t it?
My only reason for showing little to no resistance to the dark side …
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