cabron copies

i saw her name again.

it's been a while.

when there is zero stimuli, it doesn't feel like it exists. but it does. just because the darkness of night obfuscates obstacles, doesn't mean there aren't any.

i don't want to deal with her. she's played the game so well with her god given strengths that even my best efforts only managed to ricochet off her and severely damaged someone else. in the game of manipulating people, you only play to win. and i lost.

i'll of course never be the same again. regrettably so. i've become more vigilant of the game, so much so that i confuse spectators with competitors. i've been trying so hard to keep my boots hanged, cause i've grown so tired of playing. but i forget that shoes don't make a player.

i wish to unlearn everything. go back to a significantly simpler time. unaware of the rules and its workarounds. blind to the offensive and defensive strategies. dulled to the point of harmlessness.

but her strength has always been in being the most innocent looking terrorist.

she made me realize that anyone can be keeping the bomb.

even if you have the tightest security.

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