Stay with it, and you can live a lifetime in that split second. Your whole life flashes by, heartbreak and scars. When you're looking down the barrel of a gun, time slows down. Einstein was right, time is relative to the observer.I chased lesser mysteries, other people's crimes. With no way to deal with the past, I kept my eyes on the road, off the rear-view mirror and the road-kill behind me.What was clear in a dream, suddenly makes no sense. When you're waking up, the world is a blur.Their words would keep you awake at night. It wasn't that they weren't eager to talk quite the contrary, the dead had plenty to say and once they started, they would never shut up. Like always, the dead had all the answers I was missing.
There are things in life you cannot choose: how you feel.Right then, more than anything, I wanted her. "The things that I want", by Max Payne.No amount of painkillers would disable it.
These moments, blinding as snow, they kill you, change you. The bullet, real or imagined, lodged in her head routing her synapses. To kill those who were trying to kill her.
I didn't know what Mona wanted, if it was the same thing that I was after. 
As you piece it together, you cut yourself, your image keeps shifting.
The past is a puzzle, like a broken mirror. As surely as the bullet rips through the victim's flesh, organ and bone, it shatters the image of the man who pulls the trigger. She has brought me here, to this moment of clarity, where time slows down, and I choose to look back, to see myself. Now, like all my loves, she is mine forever. The trouble with wanting something is the fear of losing it, or never getting it. If you had done something differently, it wouldn't be you, it would be someone else looking back, asking a different set of questions. When you look back and see the branches, like a pruned bonsai tree, or forked lightning. The illusion comes afterwards, when you ask "why me?" and "what if?". Our fear of it makes us play safe, blocks out emotion. Until you fall back down to the same hole you were trying to escape from, only the hole's grown deeper. He kisses her to wake himself up from the nightmare that has brought him there. No one who slept for a hundred years is likely to wake up. The prince didn't kiss her to wake her up. All this time we got the fable of Sleeping Beauty wrong. The genius of the hole: no matter how long you spend climbing out, you can still fall back down in an instant. Like all the bad things in my life, it started with the death of a woman. Throw the rules out the window, odds are you'll go that way too. But it's like looking down into the grave of your love, or kissing the mouth of a gun, a bullet trembling in its dark nest, ready to blow your head off. Your only chance is to turn around and face it. You try to run from it, but the more you run, the deeper, more terrible it grows behind you, its edges yawning at your heels. A lightning bolt could re-animate you without a warning. If you think nothing can get to you, you're lying to yourself. Mona had come through here, the dead cleaners is a sign of her passage. #HOW TO DOWNLOAD CELTX SCRIPT FREE#
Makes you think about free will: have our choices been made for us because of who we are? Take it or leave it is the only choice given.
A funhouse is a linear sequence of scares. Closing your eyes forces you to look at the darkness inside. Something in the night felt like a door had been opened, an echo of the past, an old monster snapping its eyes open in the depths of my brain. I felt elation, but with it, fear that all the past evils had come along for the ride. Mona's appearance had triggered a dislocation. Kissing her, I think of the cold laws of cause and effect. I wanted to dig inside my skull and scrape out the pain. There was a blind spot in my head, a bullet-shaped hole where the answers should be. The colors started to run, got smudged and gray. Somewhere down the road, the line went blurry. Everything had started out as black and white. The bullet lodged in my brain moved a fatal, microscopic distance. I was still alive, my loved ones were still dead. This hadn't been my first fall in the night, still just a prelude to the real deal, still a long way to the bottom. Life knows two miseries getting what you don't want and not getting what you want.
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