How does one numb himself to the world around?
Watching these little sheep scurry and rush towards a tragic demise...
I should hate them.
I do hate them.
With a fiery passion.
Spitting poison at whoever dares cross me with a plastic smile pasted upon their clay faces.
Oh how do I yearn to make them all drip red...
But why...
Just why?
Can one little sheep pierce this rotten heart?
Is it.... emotion... I feel?
Unlike the boiling rage that seethes beneath this pale flesh... it's... warming...
Especially when she smiles...
Hmm... I'm thinking I need to separate her head from the rest of her body.
She.... frightens me.
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