peculiar
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the writer / poem / thoughts
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Disease
Wednesday, November 18, 2015
This world is fucking sick.
Everybody blame each other for their own sick thoughts. Their ego has replaced their sanity.
Nothing is right, something is always wrong. Always.
Eyes and ears closed shut. Mouth opens wide.
They deny everything they think, if they can think, is wrong.
Some people claiming it's right.
Some people just don't care.
Even animals are better than humans nowadays.
Why are they so stupid? Can't they think, really think with their brain, which has been given to them, each one with the same capacity? Or were some people born idiot (not the disabled one)? Or is it their purpose, their destiny in the world, to be an asshole, to spread stupidity in the world?
And what for?
You didn't matter anyway. The earth will still rotates if you keep your opinions to yourself. Or if you die.
The people who you think are important - or you are important to them - will still be alive and live their life.
You are nothing but a burden. Your existence didn't matter. The world can find its way to replace you.

Humans are disgusting.
So am I. 




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'And, when you want something, all the universe
conspires in helping you to achieve it.'