A ghost and a living person have a soul in common, fragmented though it might be. But I suspect you don't know anything about that. Pity.
[They have a grin on their face now, that would almost seem sinister if it there weren't an undercurrent of pain to it.]
Because friendships... they're always shallow. Always extensions of ego. All relationships are just a battle of ego in the end, a tug-of-war where each party knows best with no real understanding of the other side. What is the point of trusting anyone? They'll break, betray you, leave you buried in a garden like a bad memory as they flourish into a beautiful bouquet.
It's the easiest way to get hurt. It's the only way to get hurt. It's easier if the corpses are all strangers. They won't question where the flowers come from that way.
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[They have a grin on their face now, that would almost seem sinister if it there weren't an undercurrent of pain to it.]
Because friendships... they're always shallow. Always extensions of ego. All relationships are just a battle of ego in the end, a tug-of-war where each party knows best with no real understanding of the other side. What is the point of trusting anyone? They'll break, betray you, leave you buried in a garden like a bad memory as they flourish into a beautiful bouquet.
It's the easiest way to get hurt. It's the only way to get hurt. It's easier if the corpses are all strangers. They won't question where the flowers come from that way.