Another night spent on another assignment.
I don’t want to go out tonight. It’s cold, dark, rainy. Kind of suits how I’m feeling about this latest assignment. Nothing about this is new, but I dread it more and more every time. I want to just ignore it, run away and forget about assignments and these stupid numbers. But that little voice, that tiny nudge that grows into an insistent push, won’t let me.
The numbers mock me. Not because of what they are, but who they represent.
I hate them. They make me feel like an animal.
I give my assignments names. The numbers make me feel cold, calculated. I need a name to make me feel less. Less crazy, less psychotic, less like a monster.
I know I have no choice. I have a job to do. But I can wish. I can wish that it would all go away. That I didn’t have to do this all again. That my life would change and allow me to be a good person, a normal person. Someone who gets up, goes to a nice job, comes home, cooks dinner, falls in love, has children. But that never worked before, and it won’t work now. Believe me, I have tried. My instinct, my very nature, allows nothing, but this. I have no other out, no where to go. This is my life.
It all feels so repetitious. Its always the same: numbers, assignments, safe house, codes. Round and round it goes until I feel like I can’t take it anymore.
With each time it goes around, the need to do it again grows. That’s what I hate the most. It is so frustrating. I don’t want to do this. I have to do this. I know most people say that about things they hate doing, but I have tried to be different and it always leads me back here, always back to this.
Some would call it addiction or obsession. But its not really that. It’s more than that. It’s a need that’s driven by my very being, the very essence of who I am is this.
These feelings, these assignments, these instincts, they won’t ever let me stop.
Maybe I need to be the next assignment, the next set of numbers. Maybe that’s the only way this stops