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Words are like knives, they kill people regardless of if you know it at that moment or not. With each letter I come closer to signing my death certificate. I could see your name etched in blood on my arm with a gun to my head ... cocked ... loaded ... trigger ... pull ... bang... a pool of my blood with your stinging words eternally repeated, engraved on my headstone.

You loom, forever, royalty sitting on their throne, untouchable. Hated by some, loved by others. Supporters praised, everyone else executed in cruel, barbaric ways; unconscious, unknowing, oblivious. Why can't you finally make your next move? I can't seem to tolerate the delay any longer; you have exhausted me with your silly ways.

It's ridiculous, just like life completely unfair, but tough. Every day, I wonder what I'm doing, it's routine, dull and boring. That's just life. Every day seems much worse than the last and with the future looking just as grim as the past. Ha, but as I said it only seems to be, it doesn't mean it is (it's all in your head or maybe just a point of view). What can I say, that is just life... "With the bad comes the good...."

I want to sit under the midnight sky and gaze at the stars.

Tricky Shapeshifter

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interesting, sorta scary though.

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