The truth.
You want the truth?
Now, at the end?
at the bitter, bitter end - as they say?
Of course - where else should it be?
I mean, why go through the whole story,
all that long way, if the moral was right there,
at the start..
That would be silly.
The truth.
The truth is I was bored; that's all.
I was bored, so I went crazy.
First I went to the mall.
You know, 'going to the mall':
I thought I'd go down to the mall -
thought I'd check things out..
do some browsing..
a little cappuccino..
buy some products..
and services;
the usual mall stuff.
But I was still bored; so then i went insane.
It was a syndrome thing;
it turned out to be a syndrome, all along.
Could have happened to anyone; i'm not blaming myself;
I know that's bad - self blame;
I know it could have happened to anyone;
like dog shit - that's nobody's fault either,
not majorly.
I forgot the name, but I know it was a long name;
'something, something' 'syndrome';
it was at least two somethings;
and it meant that nobody was to blame, not really.
No one was to blame for what happened;
I mean, for what didn't really happen;
for what I only imagined happened, due to my
something-something, thing...
Could have happened to anyone, or not.
It was like a freak accident,
like a car wreck,
where the driver sneezes and then runs up on the side walk;
one of those shit things that just happens,
like a mad pet and a four year old.
That's the truth.
The truth is: I was in 'the wrong place at the wrong time.'
As they say.
Besides, I kind of knew;
all along;
I knew I should have stayed home that day..