Blackjack **This was send from an unknown writer

A flood of organisaitons has run this
reedomous country. The countries were all folded from east to west.
To this organisaiton. This was where a stalking of herds took place
which could shiver and break everyone's spine. The creatures of the
night would roam the halls with their chilly screams as they
succumbed to the floor in the concrete. These are the words and
consequental acts of a madman. And all of the salt that reigns the
earth was prepared to be destroyed. By the reigns of the fields who
broke them. All of their voices have time. All of their voices have
come to time, Paths, Mirrors, And dandelions. All of them sound way
to patriacity.

As a child picked a flower I can not
help but wonder what those dreams mean. My psychitairtrist told me it
was a part that made me one of the more special chosen patients. All
of them I remember was red roses on walls. Bleedingfull,
Unmeaningfull roses. And all of it brought me to slumber. As I wore
the lumberjack coat around all they could say was to walk of and go
away. But that's not where I continued my realm. Humans are strange
creatures because first they like you and after that they'll tell you
to fuck of. As humanity works on its own vessel filling the curtains
with blood. And making them paint their chilly screams.

This certain flowers around the area
have been painted red with the colors of what you hate.

Do you hate enough? And they'd reply
with that I didn't hate them enough. Sudden colors reminding me who
he was. Playing cards such as the golve he was playing poker staring
at me from the kitchen table as I made every move. I never understood
why he hated me too much. Was it something I've done I've possibly
done nothing wrong. It's in his eyes that I'm wrong. But what did I
see? WhaAt HaD bEComE oF mE. IS mY fAUlt.

'Morning sorry, Sorry for the morning
glory.' The man snickered across the room. The fat man with the white
and the curled hair. As I replied 'How are you working out?” “A”
as I recalled his name. The AgOny Was GoiNg BeaRING hIM in the
knuckle. As he left a chuckle

'Sorry, we don't use the name AD around
here, It's blackjack. Sir haven't you had played cards?”

'What the hell do you mean?' said the
man before him. I didn't knew this guy he could never be my son my
son was sweet, kind, charming. Romantic but when he went out he acted
the worsr.

'You know you've acted the worst around
me.” “You know you've died yet you're back. Screw me up.” 'I
dare you to screw me up and here you are, Dangling around my
appartement.”
He killed his bloody own man and he doesn't regret
anything he was knowingly known to fake disorders and brought up with
it. I could've never been the reason as to why he went insane. Like a
chewbacca with the weight packed in.

'I'm asking youi to leave, and never
return with your stupid family who played cards.”
So I looked
through the documented files stabbing in my neck and shirt. Glass
fragments. All of it still hurt despite me being dead. I feel dead
that's how I are.

As the realizaiton was.

He killed us to not be alone anymore.

He killed us and brought us all
together.

Forever so we could live in
impossibility to live alone.

We should have never played those
tricks on him.

'Why are you sorry?”

“We should have taken him seriously

and we didn't

we all payed for our price.