bittersweet

Immortal and haunting words from the master of goth, Edgar Allan Poe. Enjoy.

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"The thousand injuries of Fortunato I had borne as I best could, but when he ventured upon insult, I vowed revenge. You, who so well know the nature of my soul, will not suppose, however, that I gave utterance to a threat.

At length I would be avenged; this was a point definitively settled — but the very definitiveness with which it was resolved precluded the idea of risk. I must not only punish, but punish with impunity. A wrong is unredressed when retribution overtakes its redresser. It is equally unredressed when the avenger fails to make himself felt as such to him who has done the wrong."

- The Cask of Amontillado, Edgar Allan Poe

There. Tests of maturity well on its way to make my life more miserable exciting.

Usually, when I’m pissed at someone, they end up dead and their corpses are usually found on the gutter. I’m kidding! Or am I?

Anyways, my motto in life has always been Nemo Me Impune Lacessit. It’s Latin for "Whoever hurts me shall not go unpunished." It came from Edgar Allan Poe’s Cask of Amontillado. It was the Montresor’s family motto. These immortal and haunting words were emblazoned on the family crest. This infamous crest is similarly chilling as it depicts a foot stepping on the snake that bit it.

I’ve read the story when I was fourteen and the words just stuck to me. I had adopted the motto ever since. It has been a rule, a personal guide. Whoever hurts me shall not go unpunished.

It’s damn intimidating and just might scare people away from messing with me. When they actually do, let’s just say I have the means of actualizing this guide in life.

Words become flesh. And blood. Preferably oozing until its owner is exsanguinated.

For years, people have fleeted in fear, dismay and confusion. However, and fortunate at that, I do change. Or mature. Or saturate. Or ferment. Whatever. And there are times that come when I am tempted to go back to the old ways. Then I think of the risks and sacrifices involved. I close my eyes, sigh deeply, count to twenty-three and let it go.

My pride and motto aren’t worth another tangle in the imbroglio. Not now.