And along with her tears, the pending ache of crying, she wrote, 'You hate me. You hate me. You hate me', on every piece of paper in the house and when she finally ran out of paper, she turned to the walls until they were full. Then, out of desperation, she took a sharpie and on every furniture, appliance and floor she wrote, 'You hate me. You hate me. You hate me.' And with her last final effort she wrote above her bed, in a beautiful Scarlet, 'You hate me. That's OK. I hate you too.'
Life is filled with the small. It all ranges from sad to happy, heartbroken to dreamer, life to death, and so on. So, take a look dear reader and see what this world offers. Not everything is sugar sweet and not everything is a bitter thorn. [Updating Sparingly]
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