Let me be your charity card.
Your law bypass tool.
Spells of hope for more demonic ends.
Ultimately, you've created a life that is a worse fate than death.
You never cared about me or anything except to use me.
Fuck you.
You leave me to essentially bleed to death while being hit with rocks by some demonic four-year-old.
They only use me as a moment to reflect on their divine genes and how good I am to realize my patheticness. It is true. I'm pretty pathetic, but we have a Big Pity Party.
Can we have a volunteer suicide massacre because we know the criminals will never die? we can go together. There is no hope. Let's just give the corpses to the fire. We're only enabling them.
Dying is so traumatic. We'll tie me. The stupid body shuts down and suspends your ass. The bitch came back and said, "How did she survive?" Here's a secret... if it's brutal enough, you have more of a chance. You wake up the next day and they didn't even harvest your organs.
I'd love to see them go, but we know they are "chosen" and "beyond those who reside in the wasteland." Rejoice as we leave. May you all be One.
There will be like one person who actually even knows me when I die beside my grandma. She'll cry. She'll be there soon at 90. Just take the ashes and throw them off a cliff. Do not let my body rot. I don't even want a grave maker.
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