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Only reflections.
Mirrors—cracked and fogged—where I glimpse parts of myself I abandoned long ago.
Hatred is a child’s armor. It rattles loudly, makes them feel tall. But it is hollow.
I shed that illusion the day I understood: every enemy is a teacher.
Every insult, a lesson. Every wound, a doorway to clarity.
Those who strike me down? Not villains.
Only echoes of pain I refused to heal.
I walk this path not out of pride—but necessity.
To suffer, and still smile. To lose, and still reach out.
To exist and not become bitter… that is the rebellion.
There is no good. No evil.
Only gravity.
Only the silent weight of choice.
And so I choose—no hate, no vengeance, no flame.
Because in the end…
it was never personal.
He just didn’t rotate on B.
And we lost the round.
And I watched everything I believed in collapse.
I have no enemies.
Only teammates who dry peek with a Judge and die instantly.
I would pee on a guy😊
I’m in need of a guy🙁
Apple tree, Apple pie🍎
If i was green, i would die🤢
I would bleed, i would die😵
I’m in need of a guide.🙄
Have a bee that’ll die🐝
I would eat up a guy🙃
I would heat up a pie🥧
I believe I will die🤪
I believe I’m a guy🦾
I believe I can fly🚁
I wish Bieber would die🙊