looking back in anger

as it seems, i'm doomed to be hit by my past. even here, one of the last hideouts i should have, for it is one of the few places without memories painted in its walls. i know of the taint that lies everywhere else. i know what memories are recorded in every inch of land i have walked. and i can't get rid of that, i can never simply walk away. i thought i was safe there. i really thought. it was a brand new world, after all. but reality - always that bloodsucking bitch - decided to play games on me again. oh well. as it seems, the last place i have free of visions and ghosts is a small, dark pub in a forgotten alley. it's not too bad. at least there the whisky is good, and there is always someone to talk to even if i go there on my own. i guess the only trouble is the way to get there, deep into contested land. but that cannot be avoided; i have to go on walking with my hands on the trigger, until i can finally vanish to some place where i can walk freely without ever looking back.