A cold reflection lingers as the world whispers hateful songs about you. Maybe you deserve it. Maybe not. Some call it karma. Some, a circumstance. What used to be sweet music to your ears has been replaced by dead air. A shattering noise. The kind of cacophony that you deserve. For all your cunningness, deceit, and condescension, it’s a considerably light sentence. Because frankly, you deserve worse.
And it will get worse. Tragedy is near. War is imminent. Your life will slowly come crashing down on you. Prepare for battle. Expect defeat. There’s no escaping it. It’s a company you keep. It’s a choice you can’t unmake…
But feel my hand secretly helping you get up. I am the unseen air that’s keeping you alive. I am the many different kinds of neurons circling through your damaged brain that help you think. You can’t just hate everyone. I mean, how could you? You cant when you haven’t even met everyone. But let me tell you this- It’s not the people that drag you down that keep you under. It’s the trust that you let go at the commencement of this chaos and confusion. It’s your hand letting go of my hand. It’s your fingers’ departure from my fingers. It’s your well-staged exodus that exposed the past to a naked vulnerability that now everyone can see.
You see, the minister of bad things is a friend you want to keep. It’s the nightmare no one wants to have. It’s the pain you want to be suppressed. It’s the bridge you don’t want to be burned. With all its careless power wrapped in anonymity, a Deja vu of your wicked evil actions is surely bound to repeat. And the happiness you seek will forever be just a satisfying dream. Now relax. Soon, the world will be exposed to the secrets that you keep. Not unless you wash your hands before you sleep. Not unless you tell the truth you dare not speak. And not unless you hide somewhere you cannot peek.
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