They hate me, and nothing will change that fact.

There is no present or future that can change my past.

If they hate my past, they hate me, all of them.

May the heart that has already died rot inside, but may such a heart not infect the veins with its resentment and hatred.

Falling...

Steal and you're a thief, don't steal and you're poor.

Work and you're condemned...

"Slavery" is the only way to feed yourself.

You spend years of your life trying to get that "Slavery".

It's not like if you had a choice...

Oh, oh, the misery...

Be an angel... Free to walk in the limited hands of a being who commands you..

Or be a demon.. bound by the chains of freedom...

Your blood overflows twice as much, you are a living shield that cares.

But you know that no one looks at you as a sword, but rather as a shield that serves only to suffer.

One day the Punching Bag will tear again, and you won't have any more thread and needle to sew it back together.

Nothing is infinite, the Punching Bag won't the able to handle so many punches.

Imagine being God, you would have the power to choose...

All idiots, all hypocrites...

So mean, so mean...

I hate them...

All of them.

Rip out your guts, your heart, your veins, and more.

Unfortunately, for some reason, your friends ATTACH themselves to you, and they want you ALIVE, to SUFFER.

They make you CHEW and SWALLOW the same FLESH, until you VOMIT and lose your TEETH.