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I spent my life folded between the pages of books.
I am a being comprised of letters, a character created by sentences, a figment of imagination formed through fiction.
I begin to wonder if it’s coincidence that the one person most unafraid to touch me is a monster himself.
I’ve come to believe that the most dangerous man in the world is the one who feels no remorse. The one who never apologizes and therefore seeks no forgiveness. Because in the end it is our emotions that make us weak, not our actions.