He sat upon the street corner, silent as could be, trying not to make any disturbances, lest the police come and either arrest him or move him long. This city had been his home at one point, but now he barely even recognized it, bomb craters, broken bricks, half destroyed burned out houses still littered the layout. All of it was cruel memories from so long ago, merely looking at it made him want to break down and cry. Yet there would be no one to hear him in his sorrows. As far as he knew he was alone in the world at this point. Eight years in captivity had brutalized him and probably killed everyone dear to him.
He sat aimlessly on the street corner, his tattered coat doing nothing against the chilling wind that wove its fingers across the city. He had every mind to move to the Bradenburger, there were more people there that might help him out. Or just incarcerat
He watched, from the balcony of the tower, the sad numbers of wretches being led to the back buildings. Pitiful were they so easily given an escape. Behind the glasses that rested low upon the bridge of his nose, his scrutinizing eyes watched each and every one of those /things/ walk onwards. Oh, how he wished that he could do more about these parasites, they needed to be eliminated, but some of them could still prove useful to him before they were disposed of. Sometimes pure luck did not choose wisely among these insects. As he looked on, he could see some of the ones that had been trouble makers, ones that he had dealt with himself.
The tall one right there or
That man or
The one that had the scar on his cheek or
Those two over there.
How he hated them. He hated each and every one of them. Heathens and villains they all were. They deserved to die. H
People don't seem to understand how I think. Yes, indeed, I am focused and what I say may hurt, let alone can do terrible things in the short term, but they do not seem to understand that I think in the long expanses of time. They do not seem to realize that I am not an elitist. I do not speak down from a place of greatness and as a saint but rather up. Up from the place of a sinner who has gone through this before and is trying to protect others.
Love is not simple, nor is it beautiful.
If you believe in that definition you are a simpleton.
If you want love and not infatuation you might as well have to kill yourself to get it. These children expect all roses and daisies laid at their feet when they fall head over heels for someone. They don't seem to realize that love is like a ball and chain. It attaches itself to you and you can't ignore it. Its like a parasite, it saps your will to exist and infiltrates into your system like a potent concoction.