OAO; A hardened, bitter, weathered shell of a man by the age of fifteen.
My hatred of you knows no limits. Except for, you know, the maximum output of hatred that the electro-magnetic pulses of my brain can produce. But I suspect you can tell hyperbole when you read it.
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I have seen all things that are done under the sun; all is vanity and a chase after wind.
Hybrid Mode
