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Hatred submitted 2009.04.30 02:54 AM by Symbolic_ viewed 1351 times


((DISCLAIMER FICTION))





I hate how that's all I can think about, you and your silly ways. You and your silly victory, chances are you'll never read this nor comprehend the words I will use nor their weight. The true measure of a man isn't so much what he does with his life, but what he can do and chooses not to.

Socrates at any moment could've escaped execution, Jesus Christ at any moment could've lived had he only said the words.

I hate how I can destroy your life if I chose yet you want me to, almost as if you're begging me to. This last escapade these last words you chose to incite they are the pinnacle of all that is man. They are the destructive and sincere, and you do not repent. When questioned of your feelings, you merely state you are glad you said such unkind words, you care not the feelings you've hurt only that you have gained the ground you feel you deserve. You exposed such a thing and showed me the cowardice behind door number one.

Congratulations, you've won, but you won a long time ago and I already conceded you your victory prize. I cared not then and moved on to more successful hunting grounds. You followed me there to see if what you won was worth the trouble, I said then when you won the gloves would be coming off should we ever meet again because I saw the kind of person you were. I saw the disgusting mind of just who you are, which made me stop and think to myself

"There's no reasoning with this person, there is no rationality behind any of their methods, they will keep finding excuses that suit them till their way is met. No matter whom they trample, or what allies they destroy."

Then you followed me just where I thought you might. Despite me being generous towards you, despite me being patient with you, you decided to try and invoke such anger from me. You succeeded,


Is that where your happiness lies? The awakening of such beasts in man? To bring to the surface the horrible monster he's been caging from the rest of humanity? To bring to the surface the monster that's been eating away at his flesh? Day after day, night after night, feeling like his hands aren't his own but the starting point of the transformation of this monster. Then the mans face, the mans face he just feels like taking a razor blade to it and carving away. Carving away to give that monster the air it desperately craves. Does it make you feel better knowing that this is the one man with such a monster that at all costs knows that's not the way to live? I would rather sacrifice my own body and mind than let it get the air it craves.

Still, admittance to this surely would tickle you pink, and blue. You would revel in the fact that I am in such a hatred with you, I have so much contempt for my fellow man. This would excite, and these words would serve as your trophy should you ever read them, and perhaps that's what they are. Or perhaps they're the exposure of just how ugly hatred really can be.

So we're all clear on this tomorrow. There is nobody who posts or reads on here that this applies to.



rating: 5


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