Over the years, revenge has become the only obsession in my heart, and the only word in my mind is revenge.
Revenge makes his hands covered with blood.
Why didn't the person I killed have a home? He had a wife and children at home.
Why don't they hate themselves?
As much as I hate spiders.
What's the difference between me and them?
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Tired, I'm really tired.
Living in hatred is really tiring.
Can I be happy even though I'm covered in blood?