I don’t have many friends. Alot of people that I talk to, that I say hello to. But I don’t consider any of them friends. Friends implies that you know something about that person, that you trust that person. But time and time again, you find out that even though you may think this, there will always be that one that will make you regret it. Because though your enemies may be able to maim you, you can only be betrayed by someone you trusted, right? And when you’ve been fooled into thinking otherwise for as many times as I have, you start to let it affect you. You start to question everything and everyone, until you no longer know who you can trust. And then, in one last resort to keep your heart, your soul, from breaking from the so many knives thats been put through it, when you lose all faith and the good of humanity, and that the world is all evil You become what I have. A lost and bitter soul, longing for someone to prove you wrong.
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