Spite is quite a powerful reserve when you find everything else all empty.
Motivation, hope, smiles, anger, sadness, laughters, futures, others.
When it’s all empty there’s this cold bunch of coal rightfully labeled “spite”.
And so spite is what drives me through this paved path of aborted souls.
I will claw my way out.
Only through spite will I refuse to be like anyone else.
I won’t let myself be mind-controlled. I am the mind control.
Internet is empty. It’s all empty. It’s been empty.
People are empty.
Current defined futures are empty.
Smiles are empty.
Shows are empty.
Most books empty.
Sadness and anger are both empty, of false springs.
I will not be the song of birds who have come to love their cage.
And I will pull up the wall to not be infested by anyone else.
Spite alone will sate me.
Spite.