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Comments 16

modest_sinclair December 22 2006, 00:17:15 UTC
Man, I used to feel a whole lot like that sometimes, but I've got to tell you, death is even worse.

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playing_villain December 25 2006, 05:49:28 UTC
Lisa quirks a brow. The corner of her lips tug up slightly, but barely. She looks at you, touches her upper lip with her tongue, and then glances down towards the floor.

I know death. I know it like I know myself.

It isn't as bad as it seems.

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modest_sinclair December 26 2006, 04:37:25 UTC
Yeah, not so bad as some make it out to be, but not quite as good either. There’s no “escape”, no “rest”. All the people and things that made life so shit keep going on, keeping their secrets and there’s one less person who knows how shit they really are. It's fucking infuriating, man.

He scoffs, blowing hair out of his eyes.

So how'd you get to know death, eh?

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playing_villain December 28 2006, 05:13:09 UTC
Lisa raises a brow, curious.

You speak about it like you fucking know it first hand. Like you've lived it. Maybe that's not the right word. But fuck it. You get what I mean.

She shifts in her chair, whipping out a cigarette. She sticks the end in her mouth, lights it, and takes a long puff. She rests her hand on top of her crossed legs, flicking the cigarette with her thumb. She looks at you for a few seconds, before glancing away and around.

Everything in my fucking life has been about death. In a place like this, the prospect of death is .. fucking greater than any reason they can give you to stay alive. It's bullshit, but it's how it goes here.

I'll spare you the details. Most people don't like hearing them, and you seem like a person I'd care to keep around. I don't want to kill you like I do with most fucking people.

Lisa winks slightly, then takes another drag on her cigarette.

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