when i am sad, i break pencils. but i won't tell anyone about it. because they will simply say that i damage property. property that does not belong to them. they also say that apathy is a sin and one should not listen to their sadness. i dutifully obey.
most often, pencils obey easily, without crumbling or digging into the skin. but sometimes strong ones come across, and i'm afraid to break them. it's difficult, loud and unpleasant.
when i'm angry, i break skulls. but those that fell from my arms can't tell anyone about it anymore. they become my property.
skulls have never let me down.
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