I am the destroyer. Everything I touch ends broken and wherever my gaze falls ruin is sure to follow. If I had been on the Hindenburg or the Titanic I would not fault history for laying the blame of their wreckage at my feet. Like blind Samson I know my strength and the damage it can do, but can’t see the results of my actions until the weight of my havoc falls onto my head. It’s been so long since I was a baby, kicking over blocks and scattering Legos about the room, but in truth I am still that child inside. Only the proportions of my destruction have grown. I feel like a King-Kong sized infant learning to walk; stumbling from sky-scraper to sky-scraper, toppling them like giant dominoes. Then I fall back and the weight of my crashing shakes the earth beneath people’s feet, and rattles their nerves as well.
I have burned every bridge that I have ever crossed with the same flame I use to torch the harvests that I plant. Such a waste. The crops lie charred on ground that is now barren, and when I reach to pluck the fruits of my labor they rot and splash on this same blackened earth to be consumed by the maggots of my remorse. Even when the maggots grow and buzz in my ears I never listen to their warnings or let them deter me from my next blunder.
These blunders are grand. They span the scope of my life like the Mongol empire once spanned Asia. Here I am, Genghis Khan on a rampage with Paul Bunyan’s axe and the mind of Oppenheimer, chopping down every meaningful structure in my life with the force of a thousand hydrogen bombs.
This village of mine wasn’t simply razed. It has been scorched and the ground sown with salt just like that which I pour into my wounds so I can make them ache all the more.
I have done my best at the worst: to destroy the world of every person that I love.
And in the process I have utterly destroyed myself.
– Inmate at Denver County Jail, 2014