NEUROTIC DEPRESSIVE, NOT OTHERWISE SPECIFIED

I don the veil of oblivion fresh, fragrant and warm from the dryer.
Am I the means to your end, Mr. Death Wish,
or the end of your means?
Do you speak with eloquence or in spite of it?
You know, I've an offer to propose just to get you off my back-
an Eternity's supply of Super Bowl tickets for you and a new recruit of your choice
and two brand spankin' new Italian silk upholstered couches-
But that is not all!
You will also receive that much coveted heart of gold,
all ready to hock whenever you're hard up for cash.
But, the Grande Bribe?
The brains of your most coveted Proteges jarred in formeldehyde!

You see, we all have something of bribing value to offer others,
but ironically seemingly nothing for ourselves.
You're not the only one, Mr. Death Wish,, who seeks redemption at the pricey cost
of Salvation, bartered all too eagerly for a place on the chain gang of Blind Obedience & pithy Elitism.
Oh, let us count the ways and let us fill our days with endless Antagonism,
so that we may know one to take one for a scapegoat for the torture we truly feel like
inflicting upon ourselves, for we just cannot bear feeling alone in our idle, petty tyrranies
and pseudo-sadistic pursuits.

Do you really see your reflection in me, Mr. Death Wish?
If so, I am not at all flattered.
Not looking for that kind of enmeshment.
Perhaps I am the one who can grasp you, while I continue to perplex your one-track mind.
How much difference does it make, whether I give or whether I take?
Whether I stay or whether I go?
Whether I truly know what I think I know?
What more is there to prove when there is nothing left to lose or to gain,
as I hover, perched perilously upon the Plateau of Potentia, shivering with scared delight?
How can I speak of the Panic which rises up to meet the sullen earth,
which is blood-soaked from my own self-slaying?
This bent we have towards destruction truly a facade to mask
the fear of committing to that truest internal dictator-amour-propre.

And finally, to lend my wit and candor to your riddle Mr. Death Wish:
How many times can others destroy me?
Innumerable.
How many times can I destroy myself.
Definitive.