My mask...

The mask does more then protecting the face… It’s my symbol. An identity that allows me to escape, and become much more then human. I wish I could explain how it feels to have men almost bring themselves to tears at the mere sight of you, or the fulfillment one receives after saving a life. Putting on the mask has become a drug; I keep sayin that because I see myself losing control night after night and not wanting to return to my daily life. I would have never thought putting on an old Halloween mask could change so many things in my life. There are nights I try so hard to spend time with my family but cant because I want to be consumed by it again. No one cared who I was till I put on the mask, till I took that step out into the night, into the deepest and darkest regions of Philadelphia. Not till I let the darkness mold me into this Dark angel of hope for the city. And weather this city knows or not, my mask will become the first symbol of a stand against the chaos that controls it. I’m only here to take back the streets from the crime and drug lords that step on the weak, to bring some kind of peace back within the streets. Here to break the criminally insane and corrupt citizens that poison the streets with terror and death. The mask is here to bring fear to those behind these actions, to show that anyone meaning harm to this city will fall before me. Faith has left this city, and the citizens need something or someone to believe in to bring it back. I swear the more I put it on, the more I can’t get enough of it. And if I should fall, I can only hope that I’ve left as many criminal empires and serial killers broken and defeated before my history of violence is told, Amen.