Third blog

I hate this damn city sm.

This city is the only one I've known since I was born. I've never traveled anywhere else. I've gotten to the point where I can't go anywhere else where I know every street inside and out. I've never felt empathy for anyone here because, honestly, none of these caged animals I call neighbors have ever tried to understand the value of respect in their entire fucking lives. They screw around and screw around, they can't shut up and stop throwing shit because of those stupid mouths they have.

If you have things like a hospital, a restaurant that doesn't sell the most disgusting shit, good-quality products, take advantage of them. There's nothing in this shitty city, and when I say nothing, it's because more than one house is abandoned in this filth.

No one deserves to live here their whole life. It's a forgotten dump; not even foreigners come here.

Continuing with personal topics... I'm starting to write a dystopian book, so far I'm only working on the prologue. I really think I'll never finish it unless I deign to practice my spelling on this website. This is the only place where I write everything I can think of in this garbage-filled, internet-fueled little head. I hate it. I hate it.

You talk so much shit about me that you've made me hate myself and you, you fucking bastards. If I talk about you, you turn into saints. Don't tell lies about me if you don't want me to tell the truth about you, you shits.

I know you don't text me because you talk shit about me in Instagram groups, Messenger, TikTok, and all that basic shit. You bastard bitches, don't think I haven't even noticed, you don't hide it, and if that's not your goal, I don't give a damn if this isn't something you pay attention to. Now I understand why you got angry with the shit I wrote to you; you took it as an insult because it's the damn truth, you hurt pieces of shit.

And I haven't even begun to truly hate them.