I’m calm, composed and yet I feel my internal organs are collapsing one by one. I can’t say how many of them have malfunctioned already and how many are left. So much for worrying about my vital signs.. I think I have been shot, but I don’t know where and who did it, and why.. Through the smiles I feel I’m bleeding. It happens only so briefly that I can’t switch my expressions. It’s like the mechanism has become rusty. I used to be good at this, switching faces. Elegantly, swiftly swapping masks. I had a secret chest I kept my masks in. The smiling one, the cold one, the blank one, the overused normal one, and my personal favorite, the laughing one. I suppose my dark chest dropped off of my head somewhere along the way..I was tired of carrying it anyway.. I miss the masks though.. I hope someone wise finds it. It’s an art using the masks really.. I’m gifted I got many “me’s”. It was going all nice and well until some of the “me’s” died. A lethal infection broke out. The survivors were too infected they started eating my insides. It’s an addiction. I tell them it’s counterproductive, but they wouldn’t listen. Me and my morbid and unprofessional “me’s”. I hear successful people have all their “them’s” striving for one cause. You know all channeling their energies to that one place, one point hence achieving “success”. I am alien to this notion so I wouldn’t know. It sounds boring to me really. I can’t imagine an un-hollow me. No one to eat away my insides? Horrible, horrible thought. Sends thunderbolts down my spine. I’m smart. But lately ever since I’ve been shot I’m hearing my “me’s” have sold their souls to them.. greed, malice, love..I remember vaguely who shot me..You know 5 ft 8′, thin, spoke with an accent..Wait..Hold on..Goddamn it!