Who Are We?

it’s halloween night.      people will be expecting this sort of madness,   this sort of meanness,   to happen.     and expectation tends to   suck the life   out of charlotte;     it,   a thin,   cold stiletto     -     deflating her form like a balloon.     she takes a breath while she can,    sucking at the frigid air,    and rolls her eyes.     it’s   disgusting   to think,    no  -  to know,   that someone like   tyler durden   is savvy to her most selfish thoughts.     he knows everything i want,   everything i’ve felt,    everything   soft   bit of flesh that hasn’t been eaten away by rot.     it’s disgusting and so is he.

charlotte flinches when his voice touches the shell of her ear.     she lifts a shoulder in reflex   when the air shifts the wrong way   and she can sense his height looming over her.    he becomes something a shadow,   phantom footsteps following.     “   i never forget my hunger,   ”     she shoots back.     “   but   you,   you’ve lost your touch.   ”     charlotte pushes through the roof door and props it open with her knapsack.     her hand itches for a   vice   that she does not have and she’s left glaring at tyler.     “   you want to hurt the people,    you have to go after something they   really   care about…     we could burn every   starbucks   in a five mile radius.   ”

funny  how  halloween  is  no  better  than  the  daily  mess  we  live  in .  masks  and  costumes  hiding  those  looking  to  get  a  treat .  the  holiday  is  used  as  an  excuse  to  carry  out  heinous  acts .   rebel  against  whatever  you  will .   become  what  society  rejects .  what  they’re  afraid  of .    being your truest self .      tyler ,   free  in  all  ways .  free  of  all  ties  to  a  society  hive  mind .  lifeless  bodies  walking  to  the  edge  and  never  looking  at  what’s  at  the  bottom .  they  fall  over  each  other ,  running  and  jumping  to  find  the  next  major  trend  the  media  pushes  out .

THIS GUY. THIS FUCKING GUY.

mr. robot and elliot don’t usually agree on much. they’ve been agreeing a lot more lately, though, especially on who to dislike, and it’s sort of gratifying to have someone to hate who’s in the same room as them. no nebulous top one percent of the one percent here. just - another piece of himself, apparently, which also checks out, all things considered. self-loathing is nothing new here.

❝ fuck off, ❞ elliot says just about instantly, at the same time that mr. robot scoffs and says, quite simply, go fuck yourself.

like control is a simple concept. it’s not. and maybe neither one of them are in control, but that won’t stop either him or mr. robot from digging their fucking heels in. learning lessons from each other on where to apply pressure, on where to make things hurt, on where to drag things back. on where the line is, and what it means when you draw it. ❝ so you want to try another revolution, but with a face? no. we’ve got a week, not six months and a team already lined up. there’s limited time and limited resources. we are not pouring it into whatever eleventh hour shit you’re on. bring it back around if we make it past this week. ❞

this isn’t about revolution now. it’s about revenge. when you have a week, you don’t start a new fucking project. you start writing your will and you get your affairs in order, and if you have nothing to put in order, then you can pursue something like this. like revenge.

    “  how small your mind must be ,   have you thought out executing this revenge ?   if you want to get anywhere  close  to having this work without fail  ...   you need a distraction .  it’s a staple in planning shit against someone .   obviously you two shit for brains can’t  comprehend  the means of a revolution because yours failed  so terribly .  where is f society today ?   where are the members ?   the memory  too hazy  for you ?   ”       he knew the reality of what happen .   watched from afar while they endangered the lives of those who wanted to help bring light to the eyes of the sheep following the crowd .   unbind them from their shackles  /  free your people .    bound to  consumerism  and staring at screens all day .  give them something to look at .  a behind the scenes preview ...   two birds one stone as the saying goes .    “  revenge always lies in family .    you wanna get back at ‘em for what they did .  blondie is gone ,  you gonna hack that bitch’s shit to get revenge ?   your methods  won’t do shit  in this situation .  hacking and trying to go under their nose by tech isn’t gonna get you results .    ”

     “   losing someone takes it’s toll on us all ,  doesn’t it ?   ”      tone  is  calm ,    soft  spoken .    makes  for  an  intriguing ,   yet  mysterious  stranger .    something  that’ll  always  linger  when  it  comes  to  tyler durden .    she appears absent minded .     lost  within  her  own  thoughts .   he’ll  sigh ,    pretending  to  be  saddened  by  the  thought  of  losing  someone .    tongue speaks as a messiah .      the  god  of  the  new  age .       do  you  pray  to  a  god ?       “   i lost my father young .   ” 

it’s  a  sad  thing  isn’t  it ?   men  in  power .   we -  eeeell  the  wrong  men  in  power .   they  usually  consist  of  weak men  wanting  to  feel  power .   and  what  better  way  than  to  have  control .  managers ,  ceo’s ,  bosses ,   whatever  you  will  have  ...   even fathers .    never being on top has them craving for some role of power .        a  method  of  acquiring  this  might  be  violent .   don’t you know it .        “     fathers  have  a  funny  way  of  showing  their  love ,   their  so  called  affection  huh ?     ”       as thought it’s so difficult to grasp the idea ,     a  father  showing  affection  to  their  child .  easy  enough .        easy for some but not all .       he’s  looking  up  at  them  from  a  park  bench ,   hunched  over  with  his  elbows  on  his  knees .         “   controlling his children is the only way a weak man feels power .   ”

she  lays  on  her  bed ,   or  scratch  that  the  plastic  covering  her  bed .   eyes  stare  at  the  small  bumps  in  the  ceiling .    paying  for  this  shitty  apartment  you’d  think  they  would’ve  tried  making  it  look  decent .   wanting  something  but  coming  up  short  …   isn’t  that  the  story  of  her  life .       tyler ,       the chaotic man himself .    dr. jekyll and mr. hyde in the flesh .   though rotting exterior .  always bruised and beaten .

         asking  for  more  than  bodies  colliding  within  his  sheets  was  apparently  too  much .   asshole .      but  what  other  way  is  there .  we ,   the  women  and  girls  of  the  world  ,   accept  being  treated  as  such  and  for  a  moment  feel  loved .   it’s  become  a  fad .  god  isn’t  that  sick ?   relationships  are  no  longer  strived  for .  with  news  of  side  chicks  and  side  men  …  why  risk  it ?   it’s  the  age  of  netflix  and  chill .  friends  with  benefits .  or  relationships  with  no  labels  …               true  meaning  being  no  attachments .

she’ll  arrive  at  the  broken  down  house ,  pushing  the  door  open  and  walking  through .   hips  sway  to  either  side  as  she  walks .  quite  the  positive  mood .   but she’s seeing tyler .  finding  him  making  coffee  in  the  kitchen .   marble  back  splash  and  counters  stained  to  filth ,  however  it’s  no  what  she’s  focused  on .    “   thrift stores provide the left overs .  the unwanted products of our generation .   and the buyers ?   we buy the sloppy seconds .  and the cycle goes on and on …   isn’t that lovely ?   ”      marla  smiles  while  tilting  her  head  in  his  direction .   somewhat  proud  of  her  own  analogy 

@durdn·

at  least  a  dog  could  understand  commands .   meanwhile  marla  doesn’t  seem  to  understand  boundaries .  so  deprived  of  love  she  seeks  it  in  the  bodies  of  men she  doesn’t  know .   a  dance  with  a  stranger .   she  compared  it  to  cinderella  at  a  time .  the  condom  being  the  glass  slipper .     worn once then thrown away .       marla  herself  could  compare  to  a  condom .   bought  easily ,   worn  and  used ,  then  tossed  to  the  street  without  a  care .  without  a  worry .   

            a  psychologist  could  pick  and  prod  at  her  brain  and  find  the  answer  lies  within ...  hmm  what’d  they  call  it ?    daddy  issues .   isn’t  that  the  go  to  for  women  with  problems .   a  diagnosis  these  doctors  love  to  joke  about .   sons  and  daughters  plagued  with  a  mind  that  knows  nothing  of  a  love  they’ve  be  deprived  of .   mothers  and  fathers  abandoning  their  children   ;   either  literally  or  emotionally .   it  leaves  a  scar ,    but  it’s  evident .

“    little miss detective lover ,  ”     he’ll  chuckle .   hmm  what’s  a  good  way  to  get  back  into  fighting  the  war  against  us ?   religion  manipulation  is  on  the  rise .  using  passages  from  the  rotting  book  inside  a  night  stand  to  push  beliefs  and  shame  those  against ...   it’s  pathetic .       “    you’ve become distracted .  i say we go burn a church .  ”

@durdn​

HE’S JUST EXHAUSTED. like he could sleep for a few fucking years, maybe, when all this is over. and he’s getting there, to things being over one way or another. elliot and mr. robot both know how this is going to end. they have one week until either they succeed or they don’t, until they’re dead or they’re not, until all that time runs out.

the key is: there isn’t enough time.

they have one goal. they have one way out. diversions are fundamentally a fucking problem, especially when they come up in your own brain and won’t go away, and really, is this the guy he is when he’s looking the other way? when he’s talking to vera? when he’s someone he can’t remember? is this just one of his selves? this version didn’t see fit to show up all the other times when things were bad and getting worse, and now he just shows up with a grand plan.

he and mr. robot have both learned a lot about grand plans over the past year. mostly that they’re shitty, and they backfire, and they never work out.

❝ i don’t have the time for this.  ❞   okay. try again.   ❝  we do not have the fucking time for this. there is enough shit going on right now. we are not going backwards like this in what is probably our last week to live. we’ve done enough damage already.  ❞

aren’t  we  being  chipper  this  evening .   there’s  a  timer  on  our  demise  isn’t  there ?  fuckin’  around  talkin’  about  what  to  do  wont  get  shit  done .  planning  and  talking ...  talking  and  planning .  it’s  all  the  two  of  you  have  been  doing .   where’s  that  gotten  us ?   no  where .   everything  reeks  of  chaos .    we  need  space  monkeys  ready  to  be  launched .  this  isn’t  a  one  man  job .  hell  not  even  a   three   man  job .  as  much  as  we  love  a  good  threesome  it’s  getting  crowded  in  this  head .

diversions  buy  us  time .  attempting  to  figure  shit  out  and  execute  isn’t  gonna  get  it  done .  put  out  some  honey  and  catch  flies .  they’ll  be  tied  up  with  whatever  shit  you  throw  at  them ,   meanwhile  you  hack  your  little  project  and  voila .