Я к людям добрый, злобы нет...Откуда злобе взяться...Ведь для меня они обед...
To them I am simply an object from the past

that they wish will disappear

Then why do I exist?

Why am I alive?

When thought about this

I could find no answer

But as you live you need a reason

otherwise its the same as being dead

I then came to this conclusion

I exist to kill every human besides myself

Fighting only for yourself

living while only loving yourself

If you think that everybody else

simply exist to allow you to experiense that feeling

nothing is better that that world

for me to kill and continue to feel that joy of thing

my existense will not vanish...