No matter how utterly splendid the arguments turn out, one thing will always remain certain...
I will not yield, nor will I empathize.
Despite your cunning attempts to faze my blossoming consciousness, my eyes see your ambiguous soul quite clearly.
This ambiguity, which sprouts anger.
What I am is purely the absence of guilt. Indifference best describes me in your presence. How deprived I was of joy has returned in wrath, ten fold.
Fury is but an understatement. Fire is the fodder. I feel nothing.
Apathy is not a sin, but a choice.
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