Feel

Fucking hell.

How many words are there in the English language? Surely "hate" isn't enough. "Resentment," maybe. "Agony." That's stretching it, and it's still all I can think of.

Whatever, I know language isn't the problem anyways. I'm just too dumb to understand the problem. I'm the problem, I always am. But hey, still have to write it down, don't I? God, this exercise is fucking stupid.

Today, I got yelled at. Again. Half the class missed their homework and we got yelled at. Report cards came in, and I got yelled at. Stayed in my room, minded my own fucking business, read some books, and of course I get yelled at.

At least I'm used to all that, though.

Worse happened today, and god I can't even write it down. I never want to see it again, in the off-chance I ever choose to flip through this library of shit. I'm too hateful, resentful, agonized, whatever. I made a mistake again, as anyone who knows me could fucking imagine, because all I do is make mistakes. That's the important bit.

Nothing to gain by throwing myself a fucking pity party in here. Guess I'll just wait until tomorrow, when I laugh this entry off like the rest of them.


Faceless strangers shuffling by, nothing intuitable about them beyond a wish to get from Point A to Point B. Tedious architecture vomiting people onto the streets and sweeping them in again. Distracting lights, incongruent colours, and cheap plastic polluting vision for miles around.

Lack of perception must make for a truly dull life, Kim thought.

Easy as it would be to carry a permanently pessimistic disposition, Kim tended towards the arduous task of hunting for positives. It was a talent of hers; she possessed an acute eye and an active mind, with just a slight tendency to over-extrapolate. Now wasn't the time for that, though. Kim had a job to do. It didn't take too long for her to find her target, considering that the streets were positively brimming with potential subjects, but as soon as Kim saw the invisible fury behind the eyes of the

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