It is sad, isn't it? Our loved ones should always know who we are. I cannot help but feel as though people twist things inside of them ... that they no longer are able to see the truth. That they are no longer able to see you even though you are standing before them. Then they kill you. Something feels like betrayal but at the same time... it feels like home.
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It is sad, isn't it? Our loved ones should always know who we are. I cannot help but feel as though people twist things inside of them ... that they no longer are able to see the truth. That they are no longer able to see you even though you are standing before them. Then they kill you. Something feels like betrayal but at the same time... it feels like home.
But I may be ... I may be mistaken.