In all the time I've had to dream, to think, to analyse, to take and to give... I would never destroy our first precious few minutes with dishonesty.. with deceit, I would never tarnish our trust.
And I do, and I will trust you.. because you are mine. Despite the part of you that belongs to your mother we can both attest to her capabilities of ... instinctively cruel nature, so in that..
Maybe you have the best of us both.. maybe you have the truest of our seeds. But in any case, I trust you and you will soon trust me too.
I know, son. [ And that is said relatively warmly despite the considerably cold nature of their natural afflictions. ] I'm proud of you, and I am honored by your work.
[His smile is obvious in the change in his tone, it's more friendly and sounds more like a man and less like a boy.]
Yeah? Together: that'd be perfect. Dad, you can show me how you do it. I've tried, I fucked it up... I don't have your skills, your knowledge. I want what I do to be worthy of you.
You think so? I didn't think of it as art. I just, I start thinking about her and I get so fucking angry. It's not, premeditated [he's read a lot about this, about crimes, and the psychology of killers like him and his father] like yours.
What true artist doesn't hurt a lot of people? You do know that the field of psychology was formed on top of blood and pain--just as many other fields of work.
You found an outlet for your anger. But if the end results do not contribute to your happiness then perhaps fine tuning your skills will provide you with happier results.
Every profession, hobby, and interest takes a few trial and errors.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
{ voice }
Date: 2014-12-09 09:34 pm (UTC)From:[It can't be, the one person whose opinion matters.]
.....dad?
{ voice }
Date: 2014-12-10 03:22 am (UTC)From:{ voice }
Date: 2014-12-10 03:25 am (UTC)From:[His voice is small, plaintive, vulnerable.]
I want to trust you, I want you to trust me.
{ voice }
Date: 2014-12-10 03:28 am (UTC)From:Maybe you have the best of us both.. maybe you have the truest of our seeds. But in any case, I trust you and you will soon trust me too.
{ voice }
Date: 2014-12-10 03:30 am (UTC)From:{ voice }
Date: 2014-12-10 03:35 am (UTC)From:We can continue, now, together.
{ voice }
Date: 2014-12-10 03:43 am (UTC)From:Yeah? Together: that'd be perfect. Dad, you can show me how you do it. I've tried, I fucked it up... I don't have your skills, your knowledge. I want what I do to be worthy of you.
{ voice }
Date: 2014-12-10 03:51 am (UTC)From:But, son, don't sell yourself short. There is beauty in the art of chaos, misdirection, compulsion, ... imitation.
You will show me all you know too, son.
{ voice }
Date: 2014-12-10 04:09 am (UTC)From:But-- but I've hurt a lot of people.
{ voice }
Date: 2014-12-10 04:22 am (UTC)From:You found an outlet for your anger. But if the end results do not contribute to your happiness then perhaps fine tuning your skills will provide you with happier results.
Every profession, hobby, and interest takes a few trial and errors.
{ voice }
Date: 2014-12-10 04:27 am (UTC)From:[His dad is good, incomparably good. This is the most exciting thing that's ever happened to him]
But if you show me how to do it better, if we do it together, I know I'd be happier. I'd be happy.
{ voice }
Date: 2014-12-10 04:29 am (UTC)From:Son.