...

What if you realized that someone is not entirely truthful?

What would you do?

I utterly despise the abject pilferer, whose archetype personality could only pitifully render surreptitious activities in areas where the sun don't shine. This simpleton unconsciously leads a servile life, probably plotting some childlike strategy to captialize on opportunities behind the scene, like how a wretched beggar would anxiously race after a pack of half-eaten stew, savaged by wild dogs a minute ago and thrown away by the owners a minute after. I could imagine how the scene would appear - an abandoned mongrel salivating and chasing frantically at the new-found meal. Such inferior complex are amazing and the action are downright ignominious because it's certainly beneath and beyond my individual conduct to engage even a fraction of its original intent.

In all classic occasions, I won't even fucking stir in my seat or even attempt to wriggle my hands to wave the annoying fly away, which perpetually stick around like a vexatious prick because such irritable nonsense generally perish and cease to exist before it requires any formal intervention.

What shocked me greatly is that I have found out that there are endorsement given to pricks to be legitimate pricks. Hence it explains the longevity of such absurdity when I was subconsciously given the illusionary confidence that all is well.

I recalled in robust details about the time where such rueful endorsement were approved tacitly in the distant past. It was awfully choking - so intense that it left an excessive acrimonious after-taste emotionally. In mere thoughts alone, the experience almost seemed surreal and vicarious, but impact were hardly virtual.

The pain bleeds so badly that I never knew how I recovered. I was never conscious about the healing process - perhaps it might not even occur, since after all, I am an undead.

I fucking hate deception, as much as I hate things that are going around me with the gamble that I am unaware of anything, just because there seemed to be an ongoing liberty to do absolutely anything without the need to justify emotional logic. Then, I hate the over-compensation which follows shortly, because it simply hardly feels geniune.

I hate fuckers who tries means and ways to scheme in the dark, lurking in corners and shadows, like crooks ready to mug you.

But these are pale in comparison - as compared to the astronomical unappreciation and seemingly living a second-class citizen in your own kingdom.

SO TELL ME WHY THE FUCK DO YOU CLING ONTO PRINCIPLES YOU HAVE KEPT SO CLOSE TO YOUR HEART WHEN PEOPLE CONTINOUSLY TRASHED THE SHIT OUT OF YOU AND RENDER YOU AND THE PRINCIPLES SEEMINGLY OBSOLETE? YOU PEN IT DOWN YOURSELF 11 YEARS AGO - THAT NOBODY PLAYS BY RULE AND THAT THE END IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN THE MEANS.

I recalled the times when evil tainted me and with sheer willpower, I pulled back as I literally resist against all odds to evolve into that direction.

Now thinking back... what's all that compunction for?

Seriously Mark, just fuck it before it fuck you.