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Dear FutureMe,
The truth is, I harbor a huge amount of loathing for you. And that is something I need not to tell you. If you're wondering why I'm writing this letter now, a) I want to express how much I hate you (again) b) I read a past letter and she told me to write a letter again.
Sigh. You know (already) how much of a burden and dissapointment you are right? Ever since you were born...you've been nothing but a problem. You're a demon, as others may usually call it. Such a useless, attention-seeker, chatterbox, selfish, and insensitive child growing up.
It's pointless to say all these since you are certainly aware of it already. So why am I still spouting them? I don't really know. Maybe because, I just want to do it out of spite. Maybe because, I'm wondering of your reaction. And maybe, I'm wondering if these words affect you differently in the future. I would've preferred if you just ****** yourself. And yet for some reason, you're— oh no, *I'M* still here.
Because of pride? Because of spite? Ahaha. Pretty funny, no?
I will end this here. I don't have any good wishes for you. Life always seems to give you leeways anyway. Or has it stopped already? Did life stop your free trial of saving yourself from your foolishness? Did karma-if it actually exists- bite you in the back at this moment?
If so, then oh well, goodluck I guess. Bye.
Epilogue
about 7 hours laterYou wondered if it affects me differently now, these kind of words that cut. And yes, it does.
I hate you, too, you know? Until now, despite all these hopeful...
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