So, this is where I'm meant to use my blog for therapeutic purposes, for when I feel like killing things. It's not normal, you know, to be so inwardly violent. Or at least, that's what the books tell me. Then again, most books follow the line of "be normal, be happy". What if being a psychopath is happy? If I stopped concentrating on being functional for a day, maybe I'd snap and kill someone in a gruesome, gory way. And maybe, just maybe, I'd feel a little bit better about the world.
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I hate you.
People think I'm joking when I say that I don't hate very many people. But it's true. I hate a minority, I love a minority, and I strongly dislike a lot of people, and I'm indifferent to the rest.
So congratulations, you've made the list of people I hate, my own personal Burn Book. They tried to get me to think about what I'd say to you if I ever got the chance, but really... I probably wouldn't say anything. Back in the day, I might've screamed, yelled profanities at you at the top of my lungs, but now... I don't think I have it in me. Knowing myself now, I think I'd probably either run, or curl up in the fetal position and wait for things to be over.
That's the real reason I hate you. Everything you did, everything you went through and dragged me through with you, I can get over. I might even have been able to forgive you. But you couldn't leave it at that, you couldn't just walk away.
I can't watch horror movies or read scary stories without being reminded that real monsters exist in the world.
I can't walk into a dark room without being scared shitless that something's gonna jump me from behind.
I can't even look in the fucking mirror without noticing how much I've changed because of you.
My life has changed so much since then, and it's entirely your fault. Or maybe it was a little bit my fault too, for being naiive enough to trust you. I've lost my faith in humanity, and I'll never get it back, because for each amazing, beautiful person in the world, there are two monsters like you.
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