Coldest story ever told.
He stood there started to write a story of the sorrow and despair. He was mumbling words... you wouldn’t hear. He looked shaky and dangerous. His moves were unpredictable and scary. He was capable of everything. And anything. Then he wrote his first words.. “My dear; Remember karma? I have nothing to do with you. Hot + cold - high + low. Just knock it out. I despise you. I loathe your choices. You have a tin heart and brain, I have my iron lungs... till the day I die. Would you find a greater source to give you a limitless power of fucking things up. Maybe you already did. I have nothing to do with you. Let me share my own fucking lyrics for a song I’ve never published before... for situations like this —-— — Monster — You call me monster, Yeah you blame me about that But you don’t have any fucking idea Why am I like this I saw you two times yesterday You were betraying me in a cruel way You gotta ask yourself Just fucking ask yourself Why I wanna cut your throat I wanna chop you int