Dear Life,

What is wrong with you? Do you really have nothing better to do than cook up problems and challenges for everyone? Are you enjoying watching people suffer and hate the world because you are so cruel to create stories of despair out of their lives just because you think it’d be a bestseller? I know you’d never take up the responsibility of giving shits after shits to a person until he or she can’t take anymore. You’d have that excuse that you’re simply giving them the freedom to choose, and unfortunately, they chose the wrong option. So it’s their fault if their life is shitty and hopeless. Everyone said you’re beautiful and perhaps that made you kinda vain. You always want to be a topic of everyone’s conversations and you even cook up some trashy story about how people should look for their purpose when you gave them the gift of existence. I know optimistic and radical people would think that I’m just whining. Well, maybe I am. But so what? I just want you to know that this, this story you’ve written about the world so far? Too tragic to even be considered for publishing, I’m telling you. How can you watch every one of your people die every day just because some people are led to believe that the purpose of the gift you’ve given them is to spread terror to the world? How fucked up is your twist? I know antagonists are important in a story but your antagonists are people too and do you really want them to continue believing that they are simply doing your bidding and that it’s normal? How many of them do you think have sleepless nights thinking about all those people they killed? How twisted did you make their minds to become for them to be able to look at a person in the eye while they pulled the trigger?

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